#like i think if robert even suspected he wanted to fuck ned he would turn HARD into the blondest bustiest women he could
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
my feelings on like, nedbert is that they could never get to the stavos point of actual fucking, like even with a massive amount of modern day therapy, i think both of them would approach ~being gay~ as like, queerness is something you Do not something you Are and i donât think either of them could ever recognize that what they feel is attraction to another man let alone acting on that feeling. whereas imo stannis is very aware of how heâs Not A Real Man and i think resents renly for being just a paragon of westerosi masculinity while also Doing Gayness & davos is imo aware that his feelings for stannis Are More Than Normal but has rationalized this as devotion to His King in a similar way to Lorasâ feelings about Renly being The True King and also ya kno, exactly like Nedâs own devotion to Robert (the fact that ALL THREE OF THOSE FAILURES got themselves dedicated husbands despite being objectively terrible picks to be kings?? god!!)
so like for some characters itâs like are they gay? thatâs their business not mine, thatâs between robert and the light of the seven okay if ned wants to come out to catelyn thatâs between them thatâs a private marriage and itâs not my business!!
#like i think if robert even suspected he wanted to fuck ned he would turn HARD into the blondest bustiest women he could#and he wouldnât even do it on purpose! he would have no idea heâs doing it!!#but i also think ned and robert would literally rather kill themselves publicly than suck a dick.#fuck thereâs two different comics i think itâs sloss and burt kreischer (how do u spell his name? the machine)#who both have a joke thatâs like i would never fuck a guy bc iâm worried i would like it too much and be too good at it#thatâs exactly ned and robert. and thatâs private i respect people who canât come out of the closet!!#aksjdjjdjd#getting on my soap box#nedbert#stavos
61 notes
·
View notes
Text
The dog
Summary: The Starks get a dog and initially Catelyn is not happy at all with it. But she comes around, to say the least.
Basically, this is the story about the unexpected friendship between a Cat and a dog.
The idea originally came from @vpba so all credit for this goes there. I changed it up a bit, but I hope you still like it! And Iâm so fucking sorry for that it took so long. Consider this an official apology
The kids had promised so sweetly that they would take care of it all on their own and that she would barely notice that it was there. She had always been more of a cat person, if truth be told, so she wasnât happy with it all. Perhaps that had been unavoidable considering the nickname that had been given to her.
But Ned had gone on and on about how it would teach the kids responsibility. So she had relented, she had let them bring home a little puppy who Rickon had named Shaggydog. He was an ugly thing and he did deserve his name, he was very shaggy.
They did take responsibility for him, just as they had promised. They took turns, played with him, took him for walks, fed him, bathed him. And they were all so happy. Catelyn was okay with it for about two weeks, then the furball started following her around. It annoyed her a lot, that he was always at her heels, looking at her with his large puppy eyes. It didnât matter what she was doing, he was always there, just watching her. She wasnât able to stand it, she was barely able to stand the dog even when it was not around her. It just haired. Everything in her house was covered in doghair and she hated it. He had only been there for a month and still he had managed to take over the whole house. And he made so much noice. Howling and barking at nothing. Every morning she woke and wondered why she had ever allowed them to take the fur demon into her home. She also wondered why they had not asked for a cat, it would have been so much nicer. She would have actually liked the pet.
The drop that made the goblet spill over was when she woke in the middle of the night to find the shaggy thing by her bedside. For a moment she considered to throw him out the window. Unfortunately it was generally quite frowned upon to throw your kidsâs pet out a window, so she couldnât really do that. She refused to acknowledge that she was in no way capable of murdering an, mostly innocent, animal.
âHow did you even get in?â she whispered angrily.
She looked over at the door, noticed that it wasnât closed. Ned had not closed it properly when he came in. Damn him.
She climbed out of the bed and pushed the dog out of the room, closing the door between them. The furry bastard just started scratching at the door, a sound so incredibly annoying that she could feel herself going crazy. Catelyn just stood there and stared at the door, tried to control her anger. The dog just wouldnât stop.
The noice woke her husband too.
âCat? What are you doing?â he asked, his voice hoarse with sleep. âAnd what is that noise?â
âItâs the dogâ she responded.
âLet him in then.â
Catelyn laughed despite her anger.
âLet him in? Let himâ I just got him out! I donât want that thing in my room!â
âHe wonât do anything and we need to sleep, just let him in.â
âNo.â
It was dark in the room so she couldnât see his face, but she heard his sigh. And she could imagine how he looked at her. Maybe she was being unreasonable. Or she wasnât, she had not wanted that dog and it had no reason to be in her room. Why couldnât he sleep with one of the kids? She had five of them, there was no lack for other rooms to sleep in. Sansa had a little basket by the end of her bed where the dog was supposed to sleep, surely that was nicer than the floor?
âCat, we cannot have this going on for the rest of the night. Let the dog in.â
âI hate you and I hate the bloody dogâ she mumbled as she opened the door again, letting the foul creature in once more.
The dog would most certainly completely ruin her morning. And the rest of the night. She walked back to the bed, slipped beneath the covers once more and felt how Ned wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close to him. She snuggled back against his chest as he buried his face in her hair.
She laid awake, listened to how the beast snuffed around the room. He sounded awful even when he was fairly quiet.
âItâs not too bad, is it?â Ned said after a while.
âHis presence bothers meâ she said. âWhy does he have to be in our room? Heâs not our dog.â
âHe likes you.â
âAnd I donât like him.â
âDeep down, you do like him.â
âI donât. I really donât. Iâve never gotten along with dogs. Do you remember the one Brandon had? I swear to the gods, Ned, she planned to murder me.â
She still shivered whenever she thought of the dog Brandon had had when they met. That dog had been evil all the way through and it had been easy to tell.
Ned laughed at that and she heard how the dog stopped moving. But quickly he continued his investigation of the room.
âCat. That dog hated everyone except for Brandon. Not all dogs are like that. most are very friendly, actually.â
âNot to me.â
âAnd what has Shaggydog done to you, my love?â
She didnât really have a good answer to that.
***
Catelyn Stark woke the next morning to the sensation of her husband nuzzling at her neck. For a moment she kept her eyes closed, just lost herself in the feeling of his mouth on her soft skin.
âMorningâ she mumbled.
âMorning.â
His hot breath sent a shiver down her spine and she twisted in his arms so that they were face to face. He kissed her and pulled her closer to him. She could feel his hands on her back, one was going up into her hair and the other traveled downwards. What a pleasant way to start the day.
Then she felt something at her feet and broke the kiss in confusion. Only to see the ugly puppy standing on the bed.
âOh my godsâ she whispered in barely contained anger.
She freed herself from Ned, picked up the puppy and walked out of the bedroom with it in her arms.
âRobb, get here!â she shouted. âNow!â
It took a minute, but then the door to Robbâs room opened and he peeked out. His hair was one great mess and he blinked in the light that poured in from the large window at the end of the corridor.
âWhat is it?â he asked irritated and squinted at her. âPlease, Mom, you canât start yelling before nine at a weekend, people are sleeping.â
âYou should be up taking responsibility for your dogâ she responded. âYou have to get the thing away from me, Iâm going crazy!â
âHe has a name.â
âI donât care, just keep him out of my bedroom.â
Robb looked at her with a bright smile, walked over to her and took the dog from her, kissing it between the ears. The dog barked happily and responded by twisting in Robbâs arms and licking him in the face.
Catelyn pulled a face, how could anyone look that happy with a dogâs tongue in their face? It could have been anywhere, dogs were not very hygienic.
âHe likes youâ he said, just like Ned had said the night before.
âWell, I donât like him.â
âWhat has he done to you, Mom?â
She couldnât really admit to her son that she got cockblocked by his puppy. But maybe he understood that anyway because Ned laughed from behind her.
âCome on, give him a chance, heâs kind!â
âIt doesnât matter if I like him or not, heâs not my dog.â
âNo, but you canât walk around and be mad about the dog. Heâs going to be around for a while, you know?â
Unfortunately, Robb had a valid point. The dog would be around for a while. The earliest it would be out was when Robb moved out. There was still at least two years left until that and he would have to fight his siblings for the right to bring the dog with him to wherever he moved.
âIâll try to get used to him, just give me some timeâ she muttered.
âPromise me youâll try to like himâ Robb said, sounding a lot like his father.
âI said Iâll try to get used to him, not that Iâll try to like him!â
âPromise your son that youâll try to like the puppy!â Ned called from within the room.
âYou canât tell me what to do.â
âCat, I know youâre stubborn as an ox, but you should consider standing back on this. The poor little fella hasnât done anything and heâll live with us for years.â
Damn him.
âFine!â she sighed. âIâll try to like the puppy.â
âLook at how happy he is now!â Robb said and smiled again.
The dog was watching her with his big eyes. He did look happy. She tried to tell herself that it just appeared to be that way because Robb had told her so. The dog couldnât possibly understand what they were saying. But she couldnât quite convince herself. Maybe he was a bit cute, after all.
âYou already like him, donât you?â Robb teased.
âI donât!â Catelyn said and looked away from Shaggydog.
âI could see the way you looked at him!â
âNo!â
âWhat are you talking about so loudly?â
Arya had poked her head out from her room. She seemed to have been fully awake for a while. She had always been an early riser, she had that after her father.
âMom wonât admit she likes Shaggydog!â
âI donât like Shaggydog.â
Arya smiled too.
âIâve never heard you say his name beforeâ she said. âI think you do like him.â
Catelyn sighed and held her hands up in the air.
âBelieve whatever you want, but thatâs not true.â
âSureâ Ned said.
She glared at him over her shoulder.
âDonât encourage them.â
âYes, darling.â
***
âMom, I really need to meet up with Myrcella to finish a project for school, could you please take Shaggy for a walk?â Arya shouted, and Catelyn suspected she was already halfway out the door.
She didnât have that much of a choice, did she? The dog needed to be walked even though none of the kids were at home. Of course she could tell Arya that she had to do it before â she heard the door close with a bang. She could not tell Arya to do it before she left.
She sighed and put aside her book, glanced at the clock on the wall. There was at least two hours until Ned would be home. He had went over to Robert to help him move into his new apartment, his wife had just began the process of divorcing him. And all the kids were with friends and wouldnât be home until it was time for dinner. A walk wouldnât be too bad, Catelyn supposed. She looked over at Shaggydog, who laid by the fireplace with his head on his paws. He had taken a liking to the rug in front of it.
She pushed herself up from her cozy spot on the couch.
âShould we go for a walk?â she asked him.
Not that he had much of a choice, but it felt better to ask him first. He immediately lifted his head and looked back at her, wagging his tail. Catelyn caught herself smiling at him.
âCome on, then.â
Shaggydog leapt up and walked by her side to the hall. He had grown quite large by then, but she had a feeling of that he still wasnât finished. She wondered what breed it was. She had no knowledge about any of that, she had never really understood dogs or why people liked them so much. But she was beginning to understand, at least a little.
The air was clear and cold outside, and little puffs of smoke formed in the air when she breathed. Catelyn had never been very fond of snow, Shaggydog seemed to love it though. He jumped through the snow by the side of the road. Her whole house would smell of wet dog when she came home. She hated the smell of wet dog. But it was amusing to see Shaggydog dive into large drifts of snow and almost disappear, only to burst out in clouds of glittering snow.
âOi, Stark!â
Catelyn looked up to see Maege Mormont and one of her daughters coming her way with Maegeâs two dogs. They looked more like bears then dogs, if she was going to be honest. She thought Shaggydog was quite large, but those things were huge. And Maege had had them for quite a few years.
âHello, Maege, Alysaneâ Catelyn greeted them with a smile.
It had been way too long since she last saw the Mormonts. She couldnât even remember the last time.
âAnd whoâs this little guy?â Maege asked and nodded towards Shaggydog.
âThis is Shaggydog. Rickon picked his name. They begged me for a dog, so here I am.â
âWell, he certainly lives up to his name! And heâs so cute!â Alysane said.
She crouched in front of Shaggydog and scratched him behind one ear. Catelyn almost expected him to purr, he looked very satisfied.
âHaving a hard time saying no to your kids, Stark?â Maege said.
Had Maege ended up with her dogs because all of her daughters had promised that they would take care of them all on their own? Or was she judging Catelyn for her weakness? She was tempted to ask.
âNot usually, but it was very hard now when the five of them and my husband all wanted the same thing.â
âI guess they worked all their charmâ Alysane laughed.
Catelyn had to chuckle.
âI must confess Iâm a tired parent and a weak woman, and theyâve never been more persuasive. In the end I couldnât tell them no.â
âI understand you better than you think. Itâs in those moments you wonder why you didnât stop at two like normal people doesâ Maege said.
âFinally someone gets it!â
Maege only winked at her.
âWe have to rush now, but it was nice seeing you again, Stark. Youâll have to come over some day, itâs been so long since we last saw you.â
âThat would be lovely, Maege!â
âI expect to see you soon then. Bye!â
âBye!â
And so she continued her walk. Shaggydog never seemed to get tired, her just kept on running and playing in the snow. Catelyn couldnât for her life understand where he got all the energy from, but it was certainly fun to watch. A bit like it had been to see the kids play in the snow when they had been younger. Oh gods, was she thinking of Shaggydog as her child? No, he was not her child. She didnât even really like him. She was just walking with him because she had to. There was no other reason.
It had began to grow dark outside when they returned to the empty house. And it was getting cold, she was shivering a bit. She hated the cold even more than the snow. And where was Ned when she needed him? So she got a fire burning in the fireplace and then she curled up under a blanket on the couch with her book once more. She wasnât terribly surprised when Shaggydog jumped up on the couch next to her, what made her surprised was that he laid down with his head in her lap. Her first instinct was to push him away, but she didnât. It was like he had realized that she was cold and wanted to warm her.
No, the dog was not that smart, she was just imagining things. It really wasnât good for her to be alone for too long. But she wouldnât get him of the couch because, no matter what his intentions was, he was keeping her warm. She would just have him there until Ned came home.
So that was how Ned found her when he came home.
âDonât you dare say a word about this to any of themâ she told him. âTheyâll be insufferable.â
She loved her children, but she would never hear the end of it if they found out about it.
âWell, look at you, are you sure you donât like the dog, my love?â he laughed.
She made a face at her husband.
âI donât like him, heâs just keeping me warm.â
âAm I getting replaced by a dog?â
âNo, I actually like you. Heâs just here because you werenât at home.â
âWell, Iâm glad you actually like me, this would have been very uncomfortable otherwise. Though Iâm afraid youâll have to keep the dog for a little longer, I need to make dinner for the small army that we have created.â
Ned had always been the one that cooked. She was a pretty good baker, but hopelessly bad at making actual food.
âCome here and kiss me before you make food for our offspringâ she smiled.
He gladly did as she told him. But Shaggydog didnât seem to like it at all. He raised his head and showed his teeth when Ned came close to Catelyn.
âThis is a one time thing, donât get cocky.â
Well, she had promised herself that sleeping with Ned was a one time thing too, because she had felt that she was done with Starks. Then she had ended up in a very happy marriage with five fantastic kids instead, and she was glad for that. Catelyn Stark was not a person who did things only once, on both good and bad.
She looked down at the dog. What was she doing? Something she would regret a week later, if she knew herself.
***
Regret. Catelyn felt deep regret. But the temptation had been too much. He had looked at her like all he wanted was for her to pet him. And she was weak.
Catelyn sat on the floor in her kitchen with both of her hands in Shaggydogâs fur. She couldnât even remember why she was in the kitchen. It felt like she was comitting an unforgivable sin, even though she was just petting her dog. NO, Shaggydog was not her dog. But he was so cuddly. He needed cuddles. She didnât have heart enough to not give him his cuddles.
âMom, what are you doing?â
She was a child who had been caught with her hands in the cookie jar by an adult. Except that adult was her middle son, and the cookie jar was a dog. And she was a grown woman.
âNothingâ she said slowly.
âI can see thatâ Bran said and raised his eyebrows.
âYou saw nothing.â
âOf course. I havenât seen a thing. There is nothing to see. I just came in here to get the dog because Iâm going to take him for a walk and you were not even here.â
âThatâs correct.â
Catelyn got up from the floor and started brushing dog hair off her clothes. She was covered in it. How could Shaggydog lose so much hair and still have so much left on his body?
âYou realize that what youâre doing is really weird, right?â
âI realize that. But you know your siblings. I canât admit it to them.â
âI suppose I also heard nothingâ Bran smiled.
âOf course you heard nothing, there was nothing to hear.â
âRight. Come on, Shaggy, letâs go for a walk.â
Shaggydog happily bounced after him out of the kitchen and left her there. Bran was right, what she was doing was very strange. And she couldnât keep on doing it forever.
***
It had been a very long day and Catelyn just wanted to shut down completely. opened the door and almost tripped over Shaggydog. He had made it a habit to sit by the door and wait for her to come home after work. Surely there were more interesting things to do instead of just sitting by the door and waiting, but that was what he chose to do. Catelyn really couldnât understand it, but maybe that was just how dogs worked.
âHello, boyâ she mumbled and petted his head, as she did every day.
âMom?â
Sansa had appearently also been waiting for her.
âYes?â
âWhereâs the dog food?â
What was she talking about?
âWhat?â
Sansa sighed and ran a hand through her hair, a gesture that made her look a lot like Ned. Catelyn had to hold back a smile. People often commented on that Sansa had her looks, but the girl was her fatherâs daughter.
âMy phone was out of battery, and so I asked Robb to call you so that you could buy more dog food on your way homeâ she said in a very irritated voice.
âIâm sorry, but Robb hasnât called me.â
âI fucking knew he wouldnât do itâ Sansa muttered.
âLanguage, young ladyâ Catelyn said.
âSorry. Iâm gonna call Dad.â
âDo so.â
Catelyn believed that the conversation would end there, but it didnât.
âDoes he wait for you every day?â Sansa asked.
âWho?â
âShaggy.â
âYes. Most days he waits for me.â
Her daughted frowned, once more looking very much like her father.
âHe never waits for me. Why does he like you so much?â
âI have no idea.â
Catelyn really did have no idea. She had been the only one that had not wanted him in the first place and while she had warmed up to him she still wasnât overly happy about having him in her home. Her kids adored him and still he preferred her. He was a strange creature.
âItâs unfair.â
âOh I would give it away if I could.â
âYeah, sure.â
It was true. Mostly true, at least.
***
Catelyn hated it when Ned was away. But unfortunately he had to travel with his work, and so she found herself alone at night more often than she would have liked. The bed was a bit too large for her taste when she didnât have someone to share it with.
Shaggydog had followed her around all nigth as he always did. He had sat by the door when she came home from work and since then he had only left her side once and that was when Sansa forced him to go outside. He had needed it, but still he had struggled and whined.
She had gotten used to that Shaggydog sometimes slept by her bedside, it was just the way it was. He had grown so much that she couldnât push him out if he didnât go willingly anymore. So she wasnât even a little surprised when he came trotting into the bedroom that night as she came out of the bathroom.
âGood eveningâ she said without even thinking of it.
He was a dog and couldnât answer her, but she had developed a habit of talking to him when no one was around. Was she a little crazy? Maybe.
He yawned, stretching his tongue out.
âTired, are we? Well, itâs been a long day. Not that youâve done much, but I certainly have.â
Catelyn loved being a teacher, but sometimes parents could be insufferable. Their little angels could never do anything wrong and everything was always Catelynâs fault, no matter what it was that had happened. Of course most parents were very nice and a joy to talk with. But she wanted to duct tape the mouths those who were rude to her for no reason while she had to be very polite even though she wanted to scream.
âBe glad you donât need a jobâ she muttered as she sat on the edge of the bed.
Though Shaggydog did not come to lie at floor beside the bed. She couldnât even see him anymore. Where had he gone? She looked around the room for a moment. And then she almost had a heart attack when he leapt up on the bed behind her.
âGods be good, you could have given me a warning!â
He didnât even look at her, he just spun around and made himself comfortable on Nedâs side of the bed.
âHey, youâre not suppposed to be in the bed!â
She had been very hard on that rule, because he was way too large to get up on the furniture and she had no wish to get doghair in her bed. The dog didnât seem to care the slightest about that. She found that deep down she didnât really care either in that moment. It was not like that side was taken, he could sleep there while Ned was away. If something it was nice with a bit of company, she had never liked sleeping alone.
âAs long as you donât tell Nedâ she said and smiled.
That night she fell asleep scratching Shaggydog behind one ear. Yeah, she did like the dog. Very much.
***
âCatelyn?â
âYes?â
âWhat is this?â
She looked up at her husband and smiled.
âWhat do you mean, my love?â she asked.
âI thought we had agreed on no dogs in the bed.â
They had agreed on no dogs in the bed, and she had been the one that insisted on it. But she had a very cuddly dog who enjoyed to lie next to her. And she didnât have heart to push him down.
âHeâs not doing any harm, is he?â
âI would like to go to bed.â
âBut he was here firstâ she chuckled.
Ned scowled.
âIâve been your husband for nineteen years!â
âFair point.â
He raised his head from his paws and looked at her like he knew that she was about to betray him for her beloved husband of more than nineteen years. She scratched him between his ears and kissed his nose.
âYou need to get down, Shaggy.â
He did do as she said, but only after giving her his best sad eyes.
âHe never listens to me that quicklyâ Ned muttered as he replaced the dog next to her and pulled her into his arms.
âHe listens if you say it nicelyâ Catelyn responded as she made herself comfortable against him.
Shaggy jumped up on the bed again, but curled up by the foot of the bed instead, making himself as small as he could. Good thing they had a large bed.
âLook, all three of us fitâ she said.
Shaggy glared at Ned. He didnât like sleeping at the foot of the bed, he much preferred to have more space.
âI really hope you would have chosen me over Shaggy if only two of us had fit.â
âI just chose you over Shaggy, didnât I?â
âYou hesitatedâ he chuckled.
She raised her head and kissed him.
âI love you, I promise.â
âIâll have to take you for your word then.â
***
âHi, buddy! Have you missed me? Yeah, Iâve missed you too!â
Had someone told Catelyn a year and a half earlier when they got Shaggy that she would greet the dog before her husband when she came home after visiting her brother over the weekend, she would have laughed at them. It was ridiculous. But there she was, on the floor, with her arms around her dog. She still had her jacket and her shoes on, and she had barely had time to put down her bag.
âThey better have been nice to you when I was away!â
âAre you afraid of that we mistreat him when youâre not at home?â
Ned seemed very amused.
âWell, are you?â
âNo. But looking at him when youâre gone one might think otherwise. Heâs been miserable.â
âAwww, have you been miserable? My poor baby.â
She kissed Shaggyâs nose.
âNot that it says much, weâre all miserable when youâre away.â
She got up from the floor and laid her arms around Ned instead, pulling him close to her. She had missed him even more than the dog.
âAwww, have you been miserable? My poor darlingâ she smiled.
âIâm glad youâre home.â
âIâm also glad Iâm home.â
She reached up and kissed him, only to be pushed away a moment later. For a second she believed it was Ned, and was deeply offended, but then she realized that it was the dog.
She couldnât help her laugh. Shaggy just demanded more and more of her attention. And he was getting a bit too confident for his own good.
âWeâve talked about this, Shaggy! You canât do that!â she exclaimed.
Shaggy had sat down between them. At least he wasnât growling, that had happened a couple of times.
âWell, heâs not sleeping in our bedroom todayâ Ned muttered. âWhatâs with that dog?â
She laughed again.
âDo you hear that, boy? You are not ruining that for me.â
He had ruined that for her. More than once. And Ned was just as irritated about it every time. She could understand him, but she still found it more amusing than anything else.
âOh he better not. Tonight I want you for myself.â
She smiled at her husband.
âNo need to worry.â
***
âAre you crying?â Jon asked.
âYes!â
They were taking her baby from her. It was just a week, sure, but she could barely remember when she had last been separated from Shaggy for that long.
âMomâ Robb sighed. âHeâs a dog.â
âI know heâs a dog.â
She sat on the floor with Shaggy almost in her lap and she couldnât see Robb and Jon behind the mountain of fur. They were going fishing for a week and had decided that taking Shaggy with them was a good idea because he needed to something other than their town.
âSome nature will do him good. Right, Shaggy?â Jon said.
Shaggy didnât answer him.
âThereâs nature here. Lots of natureâ Catelyn muttered. âI donât know if youâve noticed, but we live right next to a forest. And Shaggy doesnât want to leave.â
She and Ned took Shaggy for walks in the forest as often as they could. There was no lack of nature in that dogâs life.
âYes, he does. He just doesnât know it yetâ Ned said. âThere will be no problem at all. Heâll be perfectly happy.â
Ned had been looking forward to it since the moment Robb and Jon told them that they intended to take Shaggy with them on their trip.
âBut Iâll miss him!â
âYou know, sometimes I think that you love the dog more than you love me.â
âThatâs not true. I love you equally.â
Ned laughed.
âI canât believe Iâm such a failure for a husband that Iâm on the same level as our pet.â
Catelyn rolled her eyes.
âNow youâre just being dramatic!â
âBecause that comes from the right personâ he said and nodded towards her.
She stretched out her tongue at him, but actually got up from the floor. The look Shaggy gave her made her heart ache. Why could none of them see that he didnât want to go on a fishing trip? He wanted to stay at home.
âHave you given him a proper goodbye now?â Robb asked. âNo, wait, donât answer that. Weâre gonna leave now no matter what. Come on, Shaggy.â
She stood out on the porch together with Ned and watched as Shaggy trotted after Robb and Jon towards the car. She would miss him very much, but she supposed that it wouldnât do him any harm.
âHave a nice tripâ she said before Robb got into the driverâs seat.
âSee you in a week! Bye!â
âBye!â
Ned laid an arm around her waist and kissed the top of her head.
âI think this will be good for youâ he said.
âIt will be good for you, at leastâ she chuckled and leaned against him. âI know heâs been driving you mad lately.â
âI wouldnât say mad, but I donât like sharing my wife. Or my bed.â
Catelyn smiled and looked up at him.
âAnd now youâll have your side of the bed to yourself and my undivided attention for a whole week.â
The kids were only home for meals and during the nights during the summers. They left in the mornings, came back for dinner, left again, and then came home when it started to get dark. So she had nothing else that she needed to focus on.
He kissed her again, on the lips that time.
âWhatever will I do with so much power?â he said when he pulled away from her.
âI have an idea or twoâ she said.
It would actually be quite nice to be able to close the door to their bedroom without having to endure a howling dog outside. Because that was what he did when he wanted to get in and they didnât let him immediately. He howled so that it was easy to believe he had suffered a terrible injury.
âIs it too early to go to bed yet?â Ned asked and she felt how his arm around her waist tightened slightly.
âDefinitely. But thereâs no one at home to judge us.â
âSo what do you say?â
âI say that I would like you to take me to bed.â
#once more i'm so fucking sorry for that this took so long#it's been almost done for months i just never came around to finishing it#and it still isn't nearly as good as yours was#and not nearly as long#but here it is#Catelyn Stark#Ned Stark#Robb Stark#Sansa Stark#Arya Stark#bran stark#rickon stark#shaggydog#jon snow
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
About GoT Episode 4:
First of all, Iâm completely exhausted from turning a blind eye to the multiple flaws in the D & D scripts (and it was they who wrote this episode). The strength of Game of Thrones came right from the details thanks to the incredible world that George R. R. Martin created and D & D destroyed. So no, I will not spare you them.
- The beginning was good. I just do not understand why Jon made his speech without looking at the survivors of Winterfell.
- The party dinner was generally good. In these last seasons, Game of Thrones has managed to maintain a good quality in the interaction between characthers. Episode 2 was basically all that and it was good for me. The problem is when GoT starts off for the story  - which is already lost.
- Daenerysâs loneliness was well portrayed. Too bad the series prematurely killed Selmy Barristan, did not it?
- First failure of attention to detail that detracts from the seriesâ worldbuilding: Gendry Rivers, what? Is he from the Riverlands, by any chance? Bastard born and raised in Kingâs Landing is named after Waters. His name was Gendry Waters (actually it was just Gendry, since Robert never recognized him as his bastard son). Why change that, D & D? To be different?
- I wish Gendry good luck trying to persuade the Storm lords to bend over to a bastard who does not understand a thing about ruling a castle. But of course the series will not talk about that. At least they did not give Stormâs to Brienne or to Davos (by the way, when the Davos family will show up?)
- Leaving a bit out of order, but taking advantage of feudal politics, whatâs going on in Dorne?â D & D mentioned a new Prince of Dorne who swore loyalty to Daenerys. Hi? What? When? Who? WHY??? D & D had the brilliant idea of ââmaking the Martells exterminate each other and still reap the rewards of their genius. Dorne remains the worst arc in the series and quite possibly one of the worst book-media visual adaptations ever.
- They also mentioned Riverrun again. What happened to the Riverlands after the Freys all died? Where is Edmure Tully? Who controls Riverrun?
- Writers creating a whole scene by saying that Brienne is a virgin. Not necessary.
- There was not a crippled nephew of Daeron Targaryen. D & D creating Targaryens whenever they want, although there is a well-defined story in the books. (FIRE AND BLOOD)
- There was finally a scene between Sandor and Sansa. It only took 4 episodes to happen. Once again they put Sansa as the product of her suffering, justifying the idiot choices D & D made for her character. Nothing new, otherwise it was a totally forgettable dialogue (I already forgot).
- The Bronn Paradox: If Bronn is not serving Daenerys while the war is rolling, who guarantees that he will receive his castle in the end? Especially considering he was utterly disillusioned with the promises of the Lannisters to the point of being ready to kill his two best friends? In fact, did D & D forget that Jaime himself had offered Highgarden to the Bronn last season?
- Again, as for Gendry, I wish Bronn good luck in trying to establish his feudal dominion over the proud lords of Highgarden who did not even tolerate the right Tyrells, and the Tyrells were an old family and had already been entrenched in there for centuries. Of course, D & D do not care.
- The Paradox of the Wildlings: Why were they known as wildlings? Because they tried to conquer the Wall from time to time and were always looting the North in search of resources and riches. Because their land was a shit, where nothing grew and it was always winter, basically. Now the they finally made it through the Wall and gain access to the best lands, even more with the support of the Winterfell and Starks. What do they do? Thatâs right: they go back to their shit place because D & D have that same shit on their heads.
- What else is north of Winterfell and south of the Wall are lands with no one, thanks to the King of the Night.â But the wildlings choose to go back to Castle Black and, by all means, beyond the Wall. Seven Hells.
- I will not even comment on Jonâs scene sending Ghost away.â If it was for him to appear that way, it was better for the wolf to have been m.i.a as before.
- Sam Tarly is a Nightâs Watch man. Men of Nightâs Watch should not have children. When will anyone say that? Did not Jon even mention it? What happened to Nightâs Watch? Why is Sam still dressed in black? If heâs out, why did not he become Lord Tarly?
- The arc of Nightâs Watch is going to be without conclusion anyway? Are they gone?
- The army of the living has lost only half its men? It was not what it looked like in episode 3. But okay, D & D create and describe armies whenever they think itâs valid - just like Nightâs Watch, apparently.
- As they are doing this season, D & D cut important dialogue scenes because they do not know what to write. In the first episode they cut off Daenerys before she finished threatening Sansa. In the second episode they cut their scene together before Dany could answer the question âWhat about the North?â. At the end of it cut the scene Jon x Dany in the crypts. Now they cut the scene of Sansa and Arya discovering that Jon is not their brother. Why, man? What is the reason? Iâm shocked that D & D did not cut Jonâs reaction to finding out that heâs a bastard of Rhaegar and Lyanna (yes, heâs a bastard, D & D, no matter how many fanfics they write).
- Arya in the first moment: we are a family! Arya in 2nd moment: left Kingâs Landing, goodbye Winterfell, until never again! and yes she left for good, she said she ainât coming back!
That was the good part of the episode. Letâs go to the bad part!!
- So you want to tell me that Euron can hit three harpoons in a dragon in mid-flight?â
- So you want to tell me that Daenerys from the sky was unable to see the Greyjoy fleet hidden behind an islet?â
- So you want to tell me that Daenerys never considered the possibility that it was a bad idea to sail to Dragonstone as they knew Euron controlled the seas there?â
- So you want to tell me that Rhaegal was not killed by the zombie dragon brother in the apocalyptic Battle of the long night fighting for the fate of the menâs kingdom only to die in the next episode in a few seconds for Euron Greyjoyâs magical harpoons?
-So you want to tell me how easy it is to kill dragons like that?â It amazes me that Aegon conquered Westeros three hundred years ago.
- Daenerys should have flown directly to Kingâs Landing and fired at everything after the Rhaegalâs death. Fire and Blood!!
- Jaime returning to Cersei: hi? What the fuck? If it is to join her and not kill her right away, Jaime will be the greatest example of character assassination that D & D has committed since Stannis Baratheon.
- How did Team Dany know that Missandei had been captured? Euron made propaganda, sent in the email?
- Is Varys loyal to Jon Snow? REALLY? What does Varys know about Jon Snow? When did he meet Jon Snow? When did they share at least one scene together? They never talked. Varys never saw him rule. Where do the writers get these crazy ideas?
- Nonsense to be creating intrigue over the marriage between Jon and Daenerys. She will need to get married to have children and continue the dynasty. Who is she getting married to, Hot Pie?
- By the way, there have been marriages between uncles and nieces among the Starks. Brothers Jonnel and Edric Stark married their nieces Serena and Sansa Stark some 150 years ago to try to end a crisis of succession, since their father, Rickon, heir to Winterfell, had been killed in the conquest of Dorne. It would not surprise me if GRRM specifically placed these marriages in history just for this situation that was raised in the conversation between Tyrion and Varys. In fact, marriages between uncles and nieces were not exactly uncommon in our own history. In Brasil, Dom Pedro I was grandson of D. Maria I of Portugal, who was married to his uncle, D. Pedro III, precisely to avoid a dynastic crisis.
- Again the bullshit that Robertâs Rebellion was built on a lie. I imagine the Crazy King burning the Lord of Winterfell and his heir and begging for Ned and Robertâs head did not influence that at all.
- Dany is an emotional woman whoâs going crazy. So we need a rational man to help her.
- Dany is an emotional woman whoâs going crazy. So we need a rational man to help her!!
- Oh, excuse me if I repeated myself, but this nonsense does not go down. They disrespected Daenerys, disrespected her journey, disrespected even the âgirl powerâ they tried to do last season (Dany, Olenna Tyrell, Cersei and the Martells). The mysoginism of these so-called D & D appearing once more to claim another innocent victim.
- Why did Cersei not kill Tyrion?
- Why did Cersei not kill Daenerys?
- Euron does not suspect anything after Tyrion reveals he knew Cersei was pregnant?â Since Euron himelf knew only minutes ago?
- D & D really put an end to the apocalypse so we can have Cersei grinning in the last three episodes? Is this serious?
- Euron is Cerseiâs puppy. Euron in the series is another completely character , they should have changed his name in the adaptation as they did with the Asha (Yara).
- No turning back with the Night King. D & D make us muggles.
- Finally: whereâs the winter ??? It seems Kingâs Landing is in the tropics.
- Cancel this and the next two episodes. Let GoT finish in episode 3, at least so we would have something minimally satisfying. D & D continue to insult the viewerâs intelligence.
"At least the showâs songs never fails to please.â
*this analysis is not mine I translated from a brazilian friend
#game of thrones#jonerys#daenerys targaryen#jon snow#aegon targaryen#targaryen#jonsnow#got s8 e4#got season 8#got spoilers#Euron Greyjoy#Cersei Lannister#Tyrion Lannister#Gendry Baratheon#Gendry Waters#ser bronn#asoiaf spoilers#Kit Harington#emilia clarke
283 notes
·
View notes
Note
SanSan time! So in ASOIAF we get the Handâs Tourney scene with Sansa & Sandor, and the whole âhe was no true knightâ moment. It seems like Sandor is still thinking sheâs just a âlittle birdâ here - but later, her father as Hand attaints Gregor, stripping him of his titles for his violent crimes. How do you think this makes Sandor feel about Sansa & his perceived seriousness of her moral ideals, considering his trauma re: Gregor being anointed and his other crimes covered up by everyone but Ned?
I donât think Sandor was ready at the time to draw any positive conclusions between Sansa and her father, because his cynicism always gets in the way of that. While her compassion made him take notice, he doesnât regard her beliefs as a good thing. To him, they are still woefully naive and a weakness that will only lead to being victimized by the strong and cruel. If Sansa is so ill-prepared for the brutality and bleakness of reality, well, he would point a very judgemental finger at her parents for that. This is not to say Sandor wasnât quietly making observations about Ned, because I do think a few books in we see subtle indications that Nedâs character and decision to bring Gregor to justice perhaps did make an impression after all. And I think itâs his experience with Sansa that causes him to have a more charitable conception of Ned in hindsight rather than Ned influencing his view of Sansa.    Â
Itâs just that Sandor requires a lot of evidence over time before he will consider altering his opinions. He sees exactly what he expects to see, so his point of view is always validated. It takes more than just Sansa saying âhe was no true knight,â as groundbreaking as that moment was. Itâs precisely that fact that makes him want to work harder at trying to find the cracks in Sansaâs idealism to prove that it canât be real. Itâs only until the conclusion of the Blackwater scene that Sandor can finally accept that she is sincere in her beliefs by treating him with compassion when he least deserved it. To him, Sansa is such an anomaly that the idea of anyone else being that authentic and principled is an even bigger stretch of the imagination than she is. Â
And what experience does Sandor have with fathers doing right by their children? None. His own father covered up Gregorâs vicious attack and made him uphold the lie. Then heâs a witness to Tywin and Robert Baratheonâs parenting. Sandor always initially gives his life experiences more weight than any counterevidence he saw from Ned or Sansa.    Â
We are given a glimpse of Sandorâs reaction upon hearing the news that Beric Dondarrion was sent by Ned to put down Gregor Clegane through Littlefinger:Â Â
Robert was in a fury [over the loss of the white hart], until he heard talk of some monstrous boar deeper in the forest. Then nothing would do but he must have it. Prince Joffrey returned this morning, with the Royces, Ser Balon Swann, and some twenty others of the party. The rest are still with the king.â
âThe Hound?â Ned asked, frowning. Of all the Lannister party, Sandor Clegane was the one who concerned him the most, now that Ser Jaime had fled the city to join his father.
âOh, returned with Joffrey, and went straight to the queen.â Littlefinger smiled. âI would have given a hundred silver stags to have been a roach in the rushes when he learned that Lord Beric was off to behead his brother.â
âEven a blind man could see the Hound loathed his brother.â
âAh, but Gregor was his to loathe, not yours to kill. Once Dondarrion lops the summit off our Mountain, the Clegane lands and incomes will pass to Sandor, but I wouldnât hold my water waiting for his thanks, not that oneâŠÂ â  â Eddard XII AGOT
Granted Littlefinger is framing this information in a certain light to pique Nedâs paranoia as heâs been doing throughout their interactions. Ned just tipped his hand as to who heâs worried about and Littlefinger ran with it, making it seem like Ned just crossed Sandor personally. Early on, Sandor is still invested in the idea that killing his brother is the only way to end the pain of his trauma. Not that I think that he genuinely wants to be a kinslayer, but keeping the revenge fantasy alive is a coping mechanism that Sandor doesnât want to be taken from him. I have no doubt that Sandor did go to Cersei immediately to discuss the situation, but thereâs a lot more going on here. This is going to be a long recap and a good deal of rambling. You have been forewarned.Â
At the inn at the crossroads, Catelyn arrests Tyrion as a person of interest in the assassination attempt on Bran based on Littlefingerâs claim of who won the Valyrian steel dagger. She takes Tyrion to Lysa in the Eyrie, holding him prisoner. Word of Tyrionâs arrest reaches Kingâs Landing via Yoren. In retaliation, Jaime Lannister and his men attack Ned Stark in the streets, leaving Ned with a badly broken leg. Ned is unconscious with a fever for âsix days and seven nights.â When he awakens, he tries to speak to Robert about the conflict with the Lannisters, but Robert will not hear of it. The situation is escalating with both Riverrun and Casterly Rock calling their banners in anticipation for war. Robert decides heâd rather go hunting than deal with this mess, tells Ned they should just simply stop fighting and leaves the next day. Thanks, Robert. Â
Ned is back to holding court as Hand and dealing with official business. Marq Piper and Karyl Vance, Hoster Tullyâs bannermen, show up to accuse the Lannisters of sending Gregor Clegane to attack villages in the Riverlands under the guise of common brigands. They brought with them the few remaining survivors of the attacks to testify that despite the lack of sigils or banners, these brigands were definitely outfitted like proper knights. They had war horses, good weapons and armor, and their inhumanly large leader couldnât be anyone else other than the Mountain. Ned believes them and suspects what Tywin may be trying to accomplish: âshould Riverrun strike back [openly attacking Tywinâs soldiers or bannermen], Cersei and her father would insist that it had been the Tullys who broke the kingâs peace, not the Lannisters. The gods only knew what Robert would believe.â  The ruse gives Tywin plausible deniability of being responsible, but it is flimsy enough so the Riverlanders to take the bait. Thereâs no guarantee that Robert, the weak king that he is, wouldnât cave under pressure to side with his in-laws. We also learn later that Tywin was counting on Ned leading his forces personally to come to the aid of his wifeâs family. Away from Kingâs Landing, Ned could be killed, captured, or traded for Tyrion. Either way, the Starks would be removed from power; however, Nedâs leg was broken during the street fight with Jaime, who knew nothing of his fatherâs plan. Â
So Ned sends Beric Dondarrion to bring down Ser Gregor for his crimes against the villagers in the name of the kingâs justice, thwarting Tywinâs provocation of Riverrun to retaliate. By putting Robertâs stamp of approval on Gregorâs death sentence, heâs also gambling that this will position the king to side against his in-laws later. You know, when he finally gets Robert to have that big talk about his wife and kids. Sigh.Â
âLord Tywin is greatly wroth about the men you sent after Ser Gregor Clegane,â the maester confided. âI feared he would be. You will recall, I said as much in council.â
âLet him be wroth,â Ned said. Every time his leg throbbed, he remembered Jaime Lannisterâs smile, and Jory dead in his arms. âLet him write all the letters to the queen he likes. Lord Beric rides beneath the kingâs own banner. If Lord Tywin attempts to interfere with the kingâs justice, he will have Robert to answer to. The only thing His Grace enjoys more than hunting is making war on lords who defy him.â â Eddard XII, AGOT.
Ned sends Ser Robar Royce to Robertâs hunting party to inform the king (and Yohn Royce) of Dondarrionâs posse and Gregorâs attainment/death sentence.ïżœïżœ Fast forward to Robert on his deathbed, where he voices his displeasure with Ned putting him in a difficult spot with his wifeâs family. Â
âAh, fuck you, Ned,â the king said hoarsely. âI killed the [boar], didnât I?â A lock of matted black hair fell across his eyes as he glared up at Ned. âOught to do the same for you. Canât leave a man to hunt in peace. Ser Robar found me. Gregorâs head. Ugly thought. Never told the Hound. Let Cersei surprise him.â His laugh turned into a grunt as a spasm of pain hit him. â Eddard XIII, AGOT.
Robert admits to Ned that he never told Sandor himself. Surprise, Robert dodged an uncomfortable conversation and intended on leaving that task to Cersei so he could get back to having a good time. Because Sandor returned with Joffrey and the Royces, he most definitely heard the news through them. Why does this detail matter? Well, if you were Sandor, wouldnât you be irked that the king didnât have the basic courtesy (or balls) to tell you himself? The natural progression of that conversation would be discussing what that means for Sandorâs future, the inheritance of Clegane lands, and his standing with the Lannisters during this conflict. But Robert doesnât want to touch that topic with a ten-foot pole. What Iâm saying is, at that moment, heâs probably more pissed at Robert than anyone else. Following that would be Nedâs decision interfering with one of his primary coping mechanisms. So Sandor marches off straight to Cersei where he was probably told of Gregorâs purpose in the Riverlands and assured that Nedâs order would come to nothing. Indeed, Gregor was ready for Donddarion, ambushing his party from all sides at Mummerâs Ford, soundly defeating them. Meanwhile, Cersei was already making moves to remove both Ned and Robert. But how did Sandor feel about all this?Â
The grey light of dawn was streaming through his window when the thunder of hoofbeats awoke Eddard Stark from his brief, exhausted sleep. He lifted his head from the table to look down into the yard. Below, men in mail and leather and crimson cloaks were making the morning ring to the sound of swords, and riding down mock warriors stuffed with straw. Ned watched Sandor Clegane gallop across the hard-packed ground to drive an iron-tipped lance through a dummyâs head. Canvas ripped and straw exploded as Lannister guardsmen joked and cursed.
Is this brave show for my benefit, he wondered. If so, Cersei was a greater fool than heâd imagined. Damn her, he thought, why is the woman not fled? I have given her chance after chance ⊠â Eddard XIV AGOT
Heâs right there under Nedâs window, mocking and intimidating him. If there was any tiny glimmer in Sandor that maybe Gregor would be finally held accountable for any of his crimes, it was almost immediately overshadowed by his cynicism and confirmation bias. Knowing that Nedâs goose is cooked, Sandor would think Ned a great, naive fool for not understanding how the world really works and how outmatched he is. His worldview is validated yet again by the cunning of his masters. The only thing he can do is attempt to cure Sansa of the same infirmity before its too late for her.Â
Just before the Blackwater battle, Sandor brings up her father and tries to put some dents in his image to argue his points. For a little context, Sandor was alone on the roof of the Red Keep until Sansa showed up.  We can infer with his anxieties about the wildfire that Sandor was up there contemplating his own mortality, which is why he goes so particularly hard in needling Sansa.  It seems as if Sandor must have been in the middle of some pretty intense brooding.  If he dies in the battle by fire no less, it is in the thankless service of awful people, and Gregor still goes on living and unpunished.  If this is how it all ends, well, itâs pretty depressing and of course, as he should have always expected.  And here Sansa is still insisting on her idealistic worldview. He goes for a low blow.  In that process, he reveals his anger and trust issues with fathers.  Â
She hated the way he talked, always so harsh and angry. âDoes it give you joy to scare people?â
âNo, it gives me joy to kill people.â His mouth twitched. âWrinkle up your face all you like, but spare me this false piety. You were a high lordâs get. Donât tell me Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell never killed a man.â
âThat was his duty. He never liked it.â
âIs that what he told you?â Clegane laughed again. âYour father lied. Killing is the sweetest thing there is.â He drew his longsword. âHereâs your truth. Your precious father found that out on Baelorâs steps. Lord of Winterfell, Hand of the King, Warden of the North, the mighty Eddard Stark, of a line eight thousand years old ⊠but Ilyn Payneâs blade went through his neck all the same, didnât it? Do you remember the dance he did when his head came off his shoulders?â â Sansa IV, ACOK.
Of course, Ned must be a liar because his father was. Heâs got to be no different than Tywin, the high lord he knows best. All fathers and killers are the same. This is the truth as he sees it: those on top, who hold near-godlike power of life and death over their subjects, secretly enjoy exercising that power behind a virtuous countenance. Does Sandor honestly believe this about Ned, or is he trying really hard to convince himself of that? Because for a flickering moment there, it almost sounds like a part of Sandor thinks of Ned in a grand, larger-than-life image before he pauses in thoughtâŠÂ Â
And since heâs the one who brought up Ned and his execution, he also canât deny that he witnessed a man condemning himself as a traitor in exchange for the safety of the daughter the Lannisters held hostage. He did the very thing his own father would not do: endure the public shame and stigma for love of his child. That is proof that Nedâs honor wasnât just about his public image, which surely didnât go unnoticed by someone sensitive to such things, whether he was ready to accept that or not. That Ned wasnât just merely outmatched by more cunning players, he was the victim of treachery and deceit, failed by a negligent king uninterested in dealing with corruption. While he still does think Ned a fool, thereâs a sense that Sandor has adjusted to thinking of him as a decent, honorable, and tragic sort of fool, much like his daughter. What good did that integrity do him? None. The monsters won. Illyn Payne still took his head off while he and his daughter watched. Did you catch how the detail of Nedâs twitching limbs was burned into Sandorâs memory, the same one that plagued Sansaâs nightmares? Yeah, it affected him too. So I do think Sandor is trying to convince himself that Ned was actually a phony and a shitty person because Sandor doesnât want to empathize with anyone and yet finds himself doing so anyway. Like with Sansa, caring* means having confused and conflicted feelings that force him to re-examine his own life. Add to the fact that Sandor is also the child of a murdered father. I could see a young Sandor having very complicated feelings about mourning his own massive disappointment of a father if he allowed himself to mourn him at all. I donât see how those memories could not be dredged up.   Â
* Iâm still debating whether or not âcaringâ is too strong a word in regards to Ned. Letâs just say that upon later reflection, I think certain things about Nedâs life and death resonated with Sandor.  Â
Itâs a very small, but not unremarkable shift considering how much of a jaded idealist cynic Sandor is. Death probably also has a way of memorializing Ned in a similar way to how separation causes Sandor to reframe Sansaâs courteousness as something he highly esteems; however, Sandor just canât say that he was wrong these things openly, so you have to read between the lines. Later while telling Arya of his intention to return her to Catelyn and Robb, Sandor says heâs willing to wager that Robb wonât kill him:
If he doesnât take me, heâd be wise to kill me, but he wonât. Too much his fatherâs son, from what I hear. â Arya IX, ASOS.
What Sandor is hoping for first and foremost is for Robb to take him into his service, right after stating that heâs done with loathsome and unappreciative masters. In an indirect way, it is an admission that Ned, Sansa, and the other Starks are not just different, but better. Still foolish because it would be âwiserâ to kill someone like him, but definitely better. Sandor assumes Robb will be pointing his army toward Kingâs Landing to free Sansa, so he believes his Lannister intel will make him a valuable asset.  âMaybe Iâll even kill Gregor for him, heâd like that.â Whatâs also interesting is that he fantasizes about changing Robbâs negative opinion and winning his favor by taking down Gregor for him (in the name of the kingâs justice), essentially fulfilling the duty Ned charged Dondarrion with. While he may think heâs got one over on Robb and his long-awaited revenge will be the cherry on top, his wording points to a subconscious desire to please and serve Ned through his stand-in eldest son. That he wants a chance to earn positive recognition from a worthy king, someone who Sansa also loves and admires. The thought eases the pain of his failures and screw-ups regarding her during the Blackwater. Except this goes up in smoke with the Red Wedding. Â
I donât know if in the future Sandor will ever have any lines where he openly and positively speaks of Ned, but that would be something I would love to see. Since I am sure he and Sansa are bound to reunite, it would probably come up then. Or Nedâs presence could be quietly felt in the continuation of Sandorâs arc through his choices and actions. Or it could be both. We just have to wait until Winds to find out.                         Â
#valyrian scrolls#sandor clegane meta#sandor clegane#ned stark#sansa stark#sansan meta#robb stark#gregor clegane#beric dondarrion#asoiaf meta#my meta#character arcs#calamitylamb#sorry for the wait
166 notes
·
View notes
Text
III.27
Lyanna is stuck in King's Landing with a vulnerable babe and scheming lords.Â
Robert/Lyanna (Lyanna survived the Rebellion)
The room was silent except for the soft coos of Aemon, nestled against her chest. Lyanna had refused to be parted from her son, half terrified that anyone might use it as an excuse to kill him, and with Wylla taking a much needed rest she kept Aemon with her now.
Robert had a hard time looking at her when Aemon was with her, she imagined the clear mark of another man's attention to her body disgusted him. Except, he had yet to release her back to Winterfell, either.
Aemon was a bastard, Rhaegar had not lived to become king, to legitimize her child, and so he posed significantly less threat than Viserys did. Ned had taken it upon himself to remind Robert of that, frequently, and he had a surprising number of allies. Many had been horrified at what had happened to Elia and her children--they'd agreed Aegon would need to die somehow, but everyone had suspected it would be at the Wall or through some subtle poison. And Elia and Rhaenys...there was no reason for that outside of pure maliciousness.
"He looks like you, more than anything," Robert stated, into the silence.
It made Ned look up from the papers he'd been going through, assisting Jon Arryn in his tasks as Hand while they were stuck within the Red Keep. Lyanna watched Robert carefully, waiting for any signs of an outburst, but he just looked tired.
"He does favor me," she agreed, after a few moments of silence. "He looks a Stark. Perhaps if I'd done you all the favor of dying, Ned could have claimed he was Brandon's."
Both the men flinched. "Lya..." Ned began, but it was Robert who continued.
"Do you think that's what we want? You dead? Seven hells, Lyanna! There's no one gladder for your life than us!"
She scoffed. "You spun a tale that Rhaegar was some mad raper to help win you that throne and I'm proof he's not."
"We still haven't found a trace of the letters you've sent," Ned stated, frowning. "Whoever was intercepting them was thorough."
"The Mad King, obviously! Hoping we'd all slaughter each other and leave him on his throne!" Robert's fist pounded the table and Aemon startled, giving a distressed noise. "Ah, shit, sorry."
"You don't have to pretend to be sorry," Lyanna muttered as she tried to calm Aemon down.
Robert made a frustrated noise, looking like he only just remembered not to hit the table again. "I don't want to hurt the babe, Lyanna!"
"Like you didn't want Aegon hurt? Like you don't want Viserys hurt?"
He sputtered, standing up abruptly and setting his hands firmly on the table. Ned is tense, looking back and forth between the two of them, ready to intervene.
"I didn't ask for what happened! Tywin fucking Lannister did that! And I'm not going to kill your son! Ned's nephew!" He took a few great breaths, seeming to find calm somehow. "You said you weren't even planning to keep the babe."
Lyanna swallowed, looking down at Aemon, who stared up at her with such trusting innocence her heart ached. "What else can I do? He would have gone with Rhaegar, been raised with Elia as his mother. They're both dead. I won't leave him an orphan." She held him closer, squeezing her eyes shut. "He would have grown up a prince and I would have been free in Essos."
She heard Ned's frustrated sigh at that, remembered how offended he had been when he'd found out the truth. She'd have a child for Rhaegar, he'd give her money and an estate across the Narrow Sea. It had seemed like all three of them would win out. When she heard news of Rhaegar's death she thought that the deal could still, perhaps, happen. Elia had seemed excited for another child, as well, after all. But then...then....
The memory of Arthur coming into her room in the tower, the anguish on his face as he told her of what had transpired, still made her feel weak and shaky.
"And that's the crux of it, isn't it?" Robert's musings interrupted her thoughts, drawing her back to the present. "If you'd ever told me that, you wouldn't have needed to run off with my cousin! You think I want to be trapped on some throne in some castle dealing with lords I have to play nice with while they plot how to stab me in the back?"
Looking at him, at just how exhausted he seemed now that the fighting was over and the rebuilding had started, she could imagine it.
"I suppose if either of us had been a bit more truthful," she muttered, then glanced towards Ned, her eyes narrowing, "if any of us had been."
He had the sense to duck his head, knowing that his own fantasy versions of his sister and his best friend had interfered in what they'd known of each other. In how they'd thought of the other.
Robert shook his head. "That doesn't matter now, though, does it? I'm King and I'm told I have to stick to it."
"And Ned and I will return to Winterfell." There was silence again, Ned's nervousness making Lyanna's hackles rise. "What? What is it?"
"The lords...they're insisting Aemon stays here. Where men loyal to me can keep track of him."
"More loyal than Ned?" Grimacing, Robert made a helpless gesture in way of answer. "You honestly think I'll just abandon a babe to these jackals?"
"I didn't say that. I thought...." He looked nervous, now, too, nearly as much so as Ned. "I thought you would stay as my Queen."
Lyanna's jaw clenched, brain stalling as it tried to deal with the ridiculous statement. If it wasn't for the slight pulling of her hair by Aemon's tiny fist, she thought she might have lost track of where she was entirely.
"I've run off with another man and had his child," she pointed out.
"...Yes. But you are still the only female Stark, and now you have family ties with the Riverlands, who are tied with the Vale...."
She narrowed her eyes. "After everything, you still see me as some sort of trophy to be won, don't you? Something else you can take away from a Targaryen."
"What?! No!" Again, he looked so frustrated that he might hit something, but glanced at Aemon and refrained. "We, you and I, we got off to a bad start. I was too proud, too full of myself, to realize that. But we'd work well together, you've got to see that. You'd be a great Queen, Lyanna."
Ned couldn't quite hide his snort and Lyanna turned to glare at him. "What, you think I couldn't be?"
"I didn't say that."
"But you clearly think it." The challenge was making the whole thing seem more appealing--proving her brothers wrong had always been one of her favorite passtimes. "I'll consider it, Robert. But you've better make sure to give me more incentive than that."
He agreed, relaxing, and Lyanna turned her attention back to Aemon. If things didn't work out with Robert, at least this would give her time to plan her escape from Westeros with her son.
#character: lyanna stark#character: robert baratheon#character: ned stark#verse: survived the rebellion#character: jon snow
2 notes
·
View notes
Note
The problem with your defense of Daenerys is that every grand, bloody mistake of hers is a learning experience. Every time Daenerys makes a 'mistake', 'miscalculation', 'violent overreaction' someone dies. Then you discount the constant violent imagery and themes in her narrative and think she's the second coming of Christ for the people of Planetos. ROFL. ''''Dragons plant no trees", "Fire & Blood". Leading a murderous horde of civilization destroyers but it's all a learning experience.
Iâm assuming youâre the âqueen of the ashesâ anon? Apparently you didnât like my answer. I wonder why.
Tell me one thing: what bloody mistakes? What violent overreactions? Because the only things that what I can think about that classify as mistakes are Astapor and Yunkai, and the only âoverreactionsâ are the crucifixions and the torture of suspects. I donât count the crucifixions as overreaction, because the masters crucified 163 children. Thatâs a huge thing, Danyâs reaction was proportional. Was it justice? No. But it was not overreaction, and itâs understandable that Dany did that, because she had no Ned Stark to teach her about justice and sheâs a product of her society. And about the torture, torture in this world is seen as a legitimate means of getting information. Very few people in universe would condemn Dany for it. Are you going to blame Dany for being a product of her society? How about you also blame Jon Snow for torturing Cregan Karstark and wanting to torture Janos Slynt into compliance? Besides, Dany is the only ruler in ASOIAF to take a stance against torture (yep, she learns from her mistakes).
And about Astapor and Yunkai, what did you expect???? Do you really expect a 15 year old girl with no education to know everything she has to do to make her revolution successful? In the real world, even educated people made big mistakes in situations like this. Even in our world, slavery continues to be a problem, and the inequality after ending slavery continues. Danyâs mistakes are natural and to be expected, it would be completely unrealistic if she didnât make those mistakes, but youâre committed to hating women in power, so you canât see reason.
And like, youâre going to blame Dany for the âviolent imageryâ? Dany is surrounded by violence because sheâs in the middle of a war. What did you expect? Do you think that the masters would give up on slavery if Dany just asked them politely? Not to mention that you have zero understanding of what actually happened in Danyâs chapters. Dany was not making war when she was ruling Meereen. She was actually desperate to make peace, but you clearly donât remember that. When Dany chooses Fire and Blood, itâs because she has realized that the peace was unjust, that she had made too many compromises. If to have peace you have to accept slavery and accept that people will continue to be brutalized, thatâs no true peace. But itâs very clear that you donât care about the slaves. You only care about the poor slavers that are going to die during the war to end slavery. You care more about the lives of the slavers, than the lives of the slaves that are being tortured, mutilated, raped, overworked and killed everyday. Danyâs war is just, so yeah, Iâm going to defend her. Her mistake was in trying to make peace.
As for Westeros and the âhorde of civilization destroyersâ, if you really think that Dany is just going to burn things down and destroy everything in her path, then you really donât understand her character. So let me remind you:
The thought of home disquieted her. If her sun-and-stars had lived, he would have led his khalasar across the poison water and swept away her enemies, but his strength had left the world. Her bloodriders remained, sworn to her for life and skilled in slaughter, but only in the ways of the horselords. The Dothraki sacked cities and plundered kingdoms, they did not rule them. Dany had no wish to reduce Kingâs Landing to a blackened ruin full of unquiet ghosts. She had supped enough on tears. I want to make my kingdom beautiful, to fill it with fat men and pretty maids and laughing children. I want my people to smile when they see me ride by, the way Viserys said they smiled for my father.
But before she could do that she must conquer. - Daenerys II ACOK
âI was alone for a long time, Jorah. All alone but for my brother. I was such a small scared thing. Viserys should have protected me, but instead he hurt me and scared me worse. He shouldnât have done that. He wasnât just my brother, he was my king. Why do the gods make kings and queens, if not to protect the ones who canât protect themselves?â
âSome kings make themselves. Robert did.â
âHe was no true king,â Dany said scornfully. âHe did no justice. Justice ⊠thatâs what kings are for.â - Daenerys II ADWD
That morning she summoned her captains and commandersto the garden, rather than descending to the audience chamber. âAegon the Conqueror broughtfire and blood toWesteros, but afterward he gave them peace, prosperity, and justice. But all Ihave brought toSlaverâs Bay is death and ruin. I have been more khal than queen, smashing andplundering, then moving on.â
[âŠ]
âYouhave brought freedom as well,â Missandei pointed out.
âFreedom to starve?â asked Dany sharply.âFreedom to die? Am Ia dragon, or a harpy?â Am I mad? Do I have the taint?
âAdragon,â Ser Barristan said with certainty. âMeereen is not Westeros,Your Grace.â
âBut how can I rule sevenkingdoms if I cannot rule a single city?â He had no answer to that. Dany turned away from them,to gaze out over the city once again. âMychildren need time to heal and learn. My dragons need time to grow and testtheir wings. And I need the same. I will not let this city go the way ofAstapor. I will not let the harpy of Yunkai chain up those Iâve freed all overagain.â She turned back to look at their faces. âI will notmarch.â
âWhat will you do then, Khaleesi?â askedRakharo.
âStay,â she said. âRule. And be aqueen.â â Daenerys VI ASOS
Now fuck off, anon. My Dany defense is very fine, thank you very much, and Iâm not inventing anything when I say that willingness and capacity for learning is one of the core aspects of her character. If her story involves violence and people are dying, itâs because there are powerful people fighting against her and trying to stop her from helping people. And yes, I do think sheâs the closest thing to the second coming of Christ for the people of Planetos. Sheâs that amazing. Die mad about it.
45 notes
·
View notes
Text
So Iâve been kinda snide about the GoT finale, and thatâs -- not entirely fair, because it was, I mean, fine. It was fine, for what it was -- for what the show wanted to be, which it turns out was, âWill the Stark Kids make it out of these troubled times okay?â And they mostly did, and it was fine (sorry, Robb).
And just so I donât feel like the last living human without a Hot Take on Game of Thrones, I thought Iâd take a shot at why, in spite of having a number of strengths and being sometimes pretty great, the overall arc and particularly the ending made me unhappy as One of Those Annoying Book Fans. (Iâm going to say all this like itâs Objectively True, which surely we all understand nothing is, so insert all the relevant in-my-opinions and all that.)
So I *love* the books, the books were a life-changing revelation for me when I started reading them back in 1997 when I was a slip of a 21-year-old lifelong fantasy fan. And yeah, I know the reputation now is âooooh, arenât you a grimdark edgelord, so impressed with your gritty fantasy faux-realism,â but -- uh, Iâm not sorry. Because the thing is I wasnât reading for ârealismâ in the sense of âthis is like realityâ -- I like *narrative,* which reality unfortunately noticeably lacks, and ASOIAF was very clearly a crafted narrative that was trying to say extremely specific things *about narrative* and about the cognitive dissonance that arises when narrative-loving human brains have to cope with narrative-indifferent reality. That may seem like slicing the distinction pretty fine, but I think it matters. The books werenât just a bunch of shit happening because âin real life, thatâs what would happen, just a bunch of shit.â The specific shit that happened, and its ramifications and the way people processed said shit according to their distinctive needs and perspectives and hang-ups, was all extremely deliberate, and aimed straight at a Serious Thematic Point, which is that fantasy novels are obsessed with exactly the most irrelevant shit possible, and maybe thatâs a problem.
These are books that revolve around a crisis in succession and legitimacy of kingship, like practically all high fantasy does (even more so back then, but it still seems pretty common). An usurper sits on the throne and two legitimate heirs are in exile, and thereâs this constant sense of unease, because from the perspective of our main viewpoint character, thatâs -- good? Because even though the Baratheon dynasty took over illegitimately, Robert is a better king than the last one, and Ned supports him. Only Robert himself is uneasy and paranoid, his reign totally dependent on the goodwill of a family of rich assholes he hates and constantly haunted by the idea that the Targaryen children might come for their revenge, which by the cultural logic of Westeros, theyâll pretty much deserve. So here you have all this palace intrigue and political skullduggery, and itâs immediately interesting because instead of being about restoring the Rightful King, itâs about propping up the guy who had the Rightful King killed, because heâs not great but the first guy was worse.
But the deeper you get into it, the more you start to realize that above and beyond the âsubversiveâ flipped script of the idea of royal legitimacy, thereâs a second and *far fucking better* subversion happening.
The point of the books is that IT DOESNâT FUCKING MATTER who sits on the throne. That the entire âgameâ is not just flipped in the sense of âyou thought this person should be the king, but really it was a different person who should be the kingâ -- the game itself is illegitimate, and destructive, and fundamentally absurd, a bunch of assholes wreaking limitless chaos out of their fixed ideas about cosmic order, which are, every single one of them, wildly wrong.
It happens on two prongs simultaneously -- first, the Iron Throne doesnât matter because *whoever* is âin powerâ is immediately hamstrung. They canât actually do anything of any significance, because theyâre 100% occupied from the moment they step into the bullseye with fending off eight hundred other assholes who want to be king of the hill, so no succession in the entire series can happen in an âorderlyâ or âlegitimateâ way -- every one of them is bedeviled by uprisings and invasions and civil wars and assassination attempts and legal challenges, and the point is that this will continue to happen forever, while the world just kind of trudges on. The second arm of IT DOESNâT FUCKING MATTER is the long game, because Winter Is Coming, and not one person on the entire planet is remotely prepared to put their personal bullshit aside in order to figure out what to do with an ice zombie invasion. People are just going to keep offing each other for imaginary honors and getting knocked off in their turn, and one day theyâll wake up and realize they rule a world thatâs uninhabitable and NONE OF IT FUCKING MATTERED.
That was the point of ASOIAF to my reading, and thatâs what I loved about it. Its ârealismâ was that it drilled down hard into the brutal reality that we saturate ourselves in stories about how great itâs going to be when the Good Leader is on the throne at last, but *thatâs never going to happen,* because leaders are regular humans who run the gamut between âpretty all rightâ and âjust the fucking worst,â but they change pretty regularly, and waiting for the Good Leader to fix it all is a suckerâs game anyway, because people donât just show up and save the world and establish The Good Times and then the story is over. Thatâs *not a real thing,* and maybe we should tell at least the occasional story that doesnât end that way, so we wonât all be so goddamn obsessed with pinning our hopes on saviors who donât pan out.
The thing is...I donât know how you end a story like that. I more than a little bit suspect that GRRM also does not know how you end a story like that. When the whole point is that politics is an endless game with no real winners and that even the putative winners arenât really capable of stopping the tides of history, when do you ring the curtain down? I actually have no idea.
What I was not hoping for was a final season that is entirely, uncritically, about making sure we all feel good about who gets to be kings and queens and who doesnât. That -- DOESNâT FUCKING MATTER. I mean, I almost love having Bran take the throne, because thereâs this weird subtextual kind of âlol, who cares, have that guy do it I guessâ baked into the meaninglessness of Bran, who doesnât want anything or, mostly, even feel anything. But all the literal and figurative chair-shuffling at the end of the episode about whoâs going to serve on the council and whoâs in charge of what, I just.... It seems like the writers really thought that was the payoff. That what we all needed to know about the Game of Thrones is who ends up winning it.
And thatâs such a baldly, drastically, jaw-droppingly bad payoff for the ASOIAF that I loved. The suggestion that the realm will be brought to some kind of peace now that the Correct, Better Dynasty is enthroned in the allied Six Kingdoms/North is completely ass backwards from the entire point of the books. Winter coming and going harmlessly, the Others (White Walkers, whatever) dispatched in one single-night battle, just betrays the source material so audaciously that it feels like it had to be deliberate. That was the whole goddamn story! That Winter Was Coming!!!!! And then the show just -- didnât do that, and instead built its climax around A Good Leader dispatching A Bad Leader, whereby the realm is saved, yay.
Only the point was that power operates systemically, and power itself takes in the people who would wield it, and power replicates itself in the forms that are familiar, and that the problem isnât that we need to keep searching for the Rightful King, because *power doesnât suddenly become benevolent when itâs invested in someone with good intentions.*Â I know there are still people who will argue with me about that, and -- I mean, fine, thatâs a matter of differing political philosophies, but Team Great Man Theory of History can rest assured that basically every other epic story will back up their worldview, because that worldview makes for better, more satisfying stories.
ASOIAF was written for the rest of us. It was a big, rich, plotty, absorbing epic story about a world where people were only human and things were only ever going to get put right to the degree that the world has ever been put right, which is...not especially. But still, the characters were *human,* and what they chose to do mattered. At least, it mattered to exactly whichever degree you personally believe that the things people choose to do matter, and it kind of challenged you to answer that question for yourself: if you knew you were never going to win the game and never going to save the world, because itâs not that kind of a world, what would you do? Would you still try to be a hero? Would you take the world for everything you could get? Would you just keep your damn head down? Would you just chase what you loved instead of the fate of nations? Would you try all those things at different times, as seemed right to you in the moment, and then live with the consequences?
I donât know how the hell you make that into a tv show, or if itâs even remotely possible. I just know that the show they made needed an ending, and the one they went with just felt a lot like every book Iâve ever read in my life *except* these books. Which might have been inevitable from the beginning, but itâs still disappointing.
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
The tinfoil is strong with this one
Guys, Iâm super hyped about all the trailers and with season 7 being so close, I have to tell you one thing: I have my hopes up for Jonsa. Maybe I shouldnât, but thatâs just how it is. I know I shouldnât burden you with this, but I guess, thatâs who I am now. The cracy shipper-lady whoâs 99,9999999% certain her ship will be canon and drags everyone into the hell that his high expectations.
Anyway, I went back to the infamous original outline from 1993 one more time and I think Iâve made some ~ fun observations ~ that play into the recent fuckplot-euphoria and might be quite interesting -Â or at least amusing -Â to read. Â
In the spirit of full disclosure, I want you to know that coming up with this post looked something like this:
Youâve been warned. But if youâre down with that, put your tinfoils on and please, do continue under the cut.Â
First things first. I will put the relevant parts of the outline below, but you can read the original here or a transcript that someone posted to reddit here. If you havenât read it before - spoiler alert, I guess? Â
So here are the three paragraphs relevant to my âjonsa-theoreyâ:
Each of the contending families will learn it has a member of dubious loyalty in its midst. Sansa Stark, wed to Joffrey Baratheon, will bear him a son, the heir to the throne, and when the crunch comes she will choose her husband over her parents and siblings, a choice she will later bitterly rue. Tyrion Lannister, meanwhile, will befriend both Sansa and her sister Arya, while growing more and more disenchanted with his own family
....
Jon Snow, the bastard, will remain in the far north. He will mature into a ranger of great daring, and ultimately will succeed his uncle as the commander of the Nightâs Watch. When Winterfell burns, Catelyn Stark will be forced to run north with her son Bran and her daughter Arya. Hounded by Lannister riders, they will seek refuge at the Wall, but the men of the Nightâs Watch give up their families when they take the black, and Jon and Benjen will not be able to help, to Jonâs anguish. It will lead to a bitter estrangement between Jon and Bran. Arya will be more forgiving ⊠until she realises, with terror, that she has fallen in love with Jon, who is not only her half-brother but a man of the Nightâs Watch, sworn to celibacy. Their passion will continue to torment Jon and Arya throughout the trilogy, until the secret of Jonâs true parentage is finally revealed in the last book.
...
Tyrion Lannister will continue to travel, to plot, and to play the game of thrones, finally removing his nephew Joffrey in disgust at the boy kingâs brutality. Jaime Lannister will follow Joffrey on the throne of the Seven Kingdoms, by the simple expedient of killing everyone ahead of him in the line of succession and blaming his brother Tyrion for the murders. Exiled, Tyrion will change sides, making common cause with the surviving Starks to bring his brother down, and falling helplessly in love with Arya Stark while heâs at it. His passion is, alas, unreciprocated, but no less intense for that, and it will lead to a deadly rivalry between Tyrion and Jon Snow.Â
All read up? Good. Here it goes:Â
GRRM initially intended Jon/Arya/Tyrion to mirror Rhaegar/Lyanna/Robert and later changed his mind to have Jon/Sansa/(LF) mirror Ned/Catelyn/(LF).Â
No, WAIT! Before you roll your eyes and call me crazy in the comments, I ask you to do one thing: keep an open mind and read until the end. It will all make sense somehow. THEN you can roll your eyes and call me crazy in the comments.Â
First of all, like all good conspiracy theories we need to make some general assumptions before we get started:Â
While the story we all love / obsess over strayed far from GRRMâs original vision, he did incorporate most of the outlines story beats into the official series. The details changed a lot, yes, but one can find some sort of counterpart in the official story for everything grrm writes about in the original outline. Except for one thing: the tormented incest love triangle. More on that later.
We donât get any clear descriptions of the outline!characters, but Iâm going to assume that their âbase personalitysâ were the same. GRRM doesnât really go into the physical appearance or personality of his characters but I assume, you would still recognize outline!Ned as official!Ned, outline!Arya as official!Arya etc. The one big exception is outline!Jaime who gives me general official!Cersei-vibes.Â
GRRMâs love for âparallels over parallels and history repeating itselfâ has been around since 1993.Â
[...] until the secret of Jonâs true parentage is finally revealed [...] leads me to the conclusion that R+L=J was already a thing at this point. What leads me to the conclusion Robertâs rebellion was a thing as well.Â
The important pairings will be the same in Game Of Thrones and A Song of Ice and Fire. = Combining hints from the books and the show is a-okay.Â
I would say these five assumptions arenât too cocky? I wouldnât bet my dogs life on it, but I feel pretty confident about them.Â
The main reason I even consider canon!Jonrya or canon!Jonsa at all is the fact that GRRM had the idea in the first place. I would have never thought of a snow on stark romance, if it wasnât for that. The fact that the creator himself entertained that possibility elevates both pairings above the status of complete crackships. Jonrya more so than Jonsa, but âthey think theyâre siblings. That would never happen.â simply isnât a valid argument in this case. You canât call something a crackship if the writer himself wanted it to be canon at one point. That is a leap in logic I just donât understand and I will fight you on this.Â
But back to the issue at hand: As I said above you can find similarities between all events described in the outline and things happening in the official series. But, I honestly canât think of anything that even comes close to the tormented incest love triangle. Donât you think thatâs at least a little bit suspicious? GRRM tries to keep all his initial ideas in his story somehow, except for the plot he mentions in two paragraphs? A plot involving three of the original five key players? Is it really so crazy to think it just hasnât happened yet?Â
I know that so much has changed since 1993, but I would argue the jon/halfsister-turned-cousin relationship wasnât dropped completely but changed from Jon/Arya to Jon/Sansa.Â
If we combine what we now know about the rebellion in canon and compare it to the original Jon/Arya/Tyrion situation there are some striking parallels between their relationship and Rhaegar/Lyanna/Robert.
If we go back to assumption numero duo, Arya representing Lyanna makes a lot of sense. There are so many posts, essays and articles on the parallels between those two that Iâll just ask you to look them up yourself. (yes, I am that lazy)
Jon representing Rhaegar isnât that hard to understand either, since, you know, he is his son. There are also some great pieces on their similarities in personality out there. Go look it up on the internet. He is forbidden from pursuing Arya because of a vow (Nights watch for jon/ marriage to Elia for Rhaegar) and his unwilligness to aid in a rebellion against the Iron Throne âwill lead to a bitter estrangement between Jon (Rhaegar) and Bran (Ned)â. The attraction to an assumed sister could just be a hint at his targ-ness.Â
But Tyrion = Robert ? On the first look this is absolutely non-sensical. In official canon their characters donât have much in common. Not in looks and not in personality. Except for women and drinking, maybe. In order to make this work I will have to do a very terrible thing and break with my second assumption. Tyrion being a dwarf isnât mentioned in the original outline, so maybe GRRM had the idea later. I looked for interviews with grrm that might disprove this, but couldnât find any. Tyrion laying siege to winterfell and burning it to the ground suggests a bigger involvement in house lannisterâs military affairs, taking him a bit closer into ârobert 2.0âł territory. Tyrion âfinally removing his nephew Joffrey in disgust at the boy kingâs brutalityâ and â making common cause with the surviving Starks to bring his brother downâ could mirror Robertâs rebellion as well. The Targaryens and Baratheons were close allies, bound by blood, and Tyrion is fighting in a rebellion against his own blood. Finally throw in his ,alas unreciprocated, but no less intense passion for Arya(Lyanna) that will lead to a deadly rivalry between Tyrion(Robert) and Jon Snow(Rhaegar) and Jon/Arya/Tyrion == Rhaegar/Lyanna/Robert doesnât seem to implausible after all. Having the important love triangle fashioned after the most famous one of the series would fall in line with grrmâs love for âhistory repeating itselfâ.Â
But all of that changed when GRRM realized that Jon wasnât Rhaegar 2.0, he was Ned reborn. He probably had the stark look from the beginning and characters mentioned âhow is mother left little of herself in himâ to make jon being nedâs bastard believable. Maybe that changed grrmâs dedication to make him rhaegar reincarnated. I suspect that Bran was supposed to mirror Ned, giving his mance rayder plot to Jon could also hint at him taking the Ned-persona.Â
Because of that Sansa(Cat) became Jons(Neds) new final love interest. Changing Aryaâs resemblace to Lyanna wasnât really necessary, she simply became Jonâs âsisterâ. If we parallel, we parallel hard folks.Â
Sansa betraying the starks in an almost unforgivable way was off the table, her big betrayel (marrying joffrey, having his son, choosing her husband) became a little betrayel (running to cersei because of childish ignorance) instead. Littlefinger was invented to be the member of dubious loyalty in the starks midst. Even though Ned fucked up pretty nicely by himself, having his good nature and trust in other people be his âdownfallâ is quite important to his story.Â
Catelynâs, Aryaâs and Branâs plot to seek refuge at the wall with Jon was given to Sansa on the show and if you buy into the âgirl in the grey clock being sansaâ-theory, something similar could happen in the books as well. Thatâs where the Jon/Arya romance was supposed to start. Bran intended to find Jon, but changed is mind and went straight beyond the wall instead.Â
GRRM established the Cat/LF unreciprocated love history to squeeze a âlove triangleâ into the Ned/Cat relationship and BAMM welcome back in the present. The super angsty amazing Jon/Sansa/LF fuckplot (s6, s7 ~hopefully~ ) fashioned after Ned/Cat/LF fashioned after Jon/Arya/Tyrion fashioned after Raeghar/Lyanna/Robert.Â
So what does this all mean? That Jonsa will be canon 100%? That I have a mental connection to grrmâs brain? That lizard people control the government and 9/11 was an inside-job? That I need to get a job? That I need to get a life?
Well my friend, thatâs up for you to decide. But jokes are on you, I have both a job and a life and everyone knowâs the illuminati are in control ;)Â Btw Sum 41Â âIn too deepâ is the recommended soundtrack for reading this.
63 notes
·
View notes
Text
Thoughts on 7x01 âDragonstoneâ
Spoilers abound. Like seriously, if you are one of the 4 people that have not watched the episode yet, do not read before the cut.
The Second Red Wedding:
This scene suffered from a bit of a pacing problem. The dialogue was fine, and David Bradley was chewing the hell out of that scene. But the issue was, as soon as it started, we knew exactly what was going to happen because we saw Walder get killed off at the end of season 6! We knew it was Arya, and we all suspected just what was going to happen.
Exactly what we thought would happen did happen, and that is just boring. The scene had catharsis for the Freys finally getting their dues, but the way it all happened was just anticlimactic at best. We spent four seasons hoping for the Freys to get their due, and when they did get it, it was over with almost as soon as it started.
Still, âWinter came for House Freyâ is a nice line.
Also, Maisie was totally on heels.
Main Title:
The horns got a budget increased. Still sounds synthy as hell, though. Like canât HBO afford an orchestra for their genre defining show?
Bran at the Wall:
The lingering shot of the White Walkers was very creepy. Typical creepy electronics aside, the dark wind hiding most of the zombies did an effective job of creating tone and atmosphere. And when it finally culminates in the shot of the giant, showing the sheer mass of the approaching army, the message is loud and clear and terrifying.
I did find it weird that the Lord Commander would be at inspection of those passing through the Wall. We had long since passed the point of thinking the Wall is meant to stave off the Wildlings.
Also, Bran being all ominous and broody as his way of identifying as a Stark is Fucking A.
Jon Rules:
So we finally get to see Jon ruling in the North. This has been something we have been waiting years to see. Jonâs kingship has been foreshadowed constantly through the books. From Robert Baratheonâs remarks that the Northern kings are buried in snow, to Mormontâs raven frequent squawkingâs of âkingâ and âcrownâ in Jonâs presence, and with Robbâs will on top of that, there is little argument that Jon becoming the next King in the North after Robb. The how of it is the question that GRRM will need to answer.
But we have it in the show (as awkward the coronation was). And Jon shows he has more of a handle on how to politically merge the wants of his Northern lords with the coming threat of the White Walkers than Sansa does. Probably because Jon knows that the White Walkers are coming, while Sansa just understands it. Thereâs a keen difference, and it is shown in our first scene in the North.
Sansa pushes for the Karstarks and Umbers to have their lands stripped from them, but a ruthless hand in victory will do the Starks no favors. Jon understands that the North needs to stand united against the coming threat, and he needs to give a forgiving hand to the Karstarks and the Umbers. If he followed Sansaâs advice, Jon would foster animosity in the families, and they would fight to get their lands back.
But now they have reasons to stay loyal and true to the Starks, especially since Alys Karstark and Ned Umber were not the ones to rise up against the Starks.
Ned Umber being a young boy is a double blessing for Jon. Not only is he young and easily influenced, but Jon can install regents that are loyal to House Stark to foster him. Jon can, from the root up, rebuild Umber loyalty to House Stark. On top of this, he shows that Jon Snow is a King worth following. He is not the Boltons under a more familiar coat.
Stay loyal and be rewarded, turn traitor and be killed.
I really am not liking how DnD are trying to imply that Sansa will be a villain. Everyone who knows these characters â and that should be everyone at this point â knows she will not turn against her family. It makes no sense for her to do so. DnD are just gonna make us all feel like âOooo, will she do it?â and then âNope, she didnât. Like we all fucking knewâ. Itâs an annoying piece of direction from them, and Iâd wish that they would just focus on Littlefinger as the antagonist in the North.
I also found Lyanna Mormontâs quip of rather holding a spear than knitting by a fire annoying. Who is going to keep the Northmen warm during the winter if they have no coats or cloaks? Northern nationalism warms the heart, but not the skin on your back. It would have been nice if the writers also had Jon say that the men will need to help with supplies, and learn how to forage in the winters. Have the Wildlings teach them a thing or two.
Also, it seems like the Northern lords jumped pretty quick on the âWhite Walkers are coming!â bandwagon. For all their lives, they were raised with the fairytale of the White Walkers, and all of a sudden they all believe in it? It feels like there was a cut scene of some Northmen asking themselves just what kind of crazy loon they had made as their king.
Jon and Sansa:
Again, DnD is trying to imply that Sansa will turn cloak, when everyone and their mothers know otherwise. Sansa says that she learned a great deal from Cersei â giving the implication that she learned how to be ruthless and cynical. But I think what Sansa is saying is Cersei will not stop at whatever it takes to come North.
Sure, Jon used the âRussiaâ defense theory, and it makes sense. But Cersei will find a way regardless. Sansa knows this, and she is trying to teach Jon that.
I appreciated what Sansa is trying to do with Jon here. She is insisting that he canât think like Robb and Eddard, that he needs to be his own man. They were good men who made foolish mistakes â Ned didnât realize the full scope of his powers as Hand, and Robb didnât want to create a bastard by Jeyne Westerling after seeing what Jon went through. Jon canât be like them.
However, this is all shit that should have gone down BEFORE they met with the lords. Sansa should have known better than to undermine Jon in front of his lords. She knows how important saving face is. Nobody understands social politics better than her. It was out of character for her to do what she did.
DnD were just creating conflict in an awkward way, and it showed.
Cerseiâs Big Map:
Aegon the Conqueror had a painted table. Cersei is going to have a fucking floor. Says a lot about the differences between the two rulers. Aegon knew how to rule, but Cersei thinks walking over the realm is what makes one a ruler.
Jaime is beginning to understand the sheer depths of Cerseiâs paranoia, and I liked how Jaime was asked if he should be afraid of her. Cersei should be afraid of the Volanqar standing right in front of her. Jaime also understands that the Lannisters have no legs to stand on. They have no allies, and no legitimacy to sit upon the Iron Throne. Cersei was the mother to the king, but that does not mean she gets to be queen.
Cersei is a usurper, and Jaime understands that completely.
Two Good Hands:
At this point we understand just what type of character Show!Euron is going to be, and he is nothing like Book!Euron. This Euron is just a crazy pirate with a flair for the dramatic. He is not a monster in the flesh of man. No sorceries, no Valyrian armor, no dragon binding horns, no Eldritch sense of horror.
And despite all that, I donât hate the Euron we saw today. I loved how he chewed the scenery, his banter was great, and he has this absurd sense of entitlement. Jaime needs to get some oilment for the burns he got.
This Euron has no depth, but Iâll be damned if he is not fun as hell to watch.
I did appreciate how Team Lannister did not buy any of Euronâs shit. They didnât just skip right into welcoming Euron with open arms â they wanted a reason to trust him. Euron admitted outright that he killed his brother and liege. Cersei has no reason to truth Euron.
The problem is, Euron is going to give her reason to trust him. With a gift.
Sam in Oldtown:
Hello montage. You overstayed your welcome.
On paper, Samâs montage was fine. It was a decent amount of comic relief that overstayed its welcome, but what it did do was show how much time had passed since the finale of season six. Without this scene, one would think the new season began just as soon as season six ended.
However, the montage went on for a little bit too long, repeated the same notes one too many times. They earned one chuckle from us, and wanted two more. They didnât get two more.
Samâs scene with Archmaester Marwyn (or he should be) was nice. Having a maester that knows the Long Night is coming is a good indicator that an age of magic is coming, and the era of logic is coming to a close.
It was also important the message that the Archmaester said: humanity has survived. Humanity has always survived every calamity that has been thrown at it. The showrunners are telling us what the ending of the series will be â humanity will prevail, no matter what else happens. Game of Thrones isnât a bitter narrative.
It is an affirming one. Good will always prevail over evil, but being good is hard. Thatâs why our heroes suffered for so long.
I just hope that Sam doesnât find out that Rhaeger annulled his marriage to Elia Martell. Beyond the timeline problems, it makes no sense for Rhaegar to do that. Why would he make his son and daughter a bastard so Jon could be a prince? It pretty much makes Rhaegar a 100% douche with no redeeming qualities. That would add nothing to the narrative.
Sansa, Queen of Shade:
If we spent the entire season having people throw shade on Littlefinger, I would consider it well spent.
The issue I have with Littlefinger is I donât understand why he is in the North, why he is doing anything. If he lusted after Sansa, why did he arrange her marriage to the Boltons? Even if he thought Ramsay was a fruitcake, you donât want some other man screwing the woman you love. That makes no bloody sense.
So LittlefingerâŠwhy are you here? The writers wrote themselves into a corner with him. His wants are complete wishy-washy.
Arya and the Westerlander Soldiers:
I swear to God, I was the only one that didnât recognize Ed Sheeran in this scene. Everyone says he pulled them out of the scene, but I donât even know what the guy looks like. This is what I get for having 700 GB of soundtracks and classical music on my computer. (No regrets)
So since that was everyoneâs singular criticism with that scene, I feel it was perfect. I loved how Arya is learning that not everyone associated with the Lannisters are bad people, and it does a double whammie of showing us (the viewers) that the Lannisters have no leg to stand upon. They have no legitimacy, everyone knows it, a stray wind will push them down.
The scene reminded me a lot of a narrative technique employed by many immersive shooters (System Shock, Thief, Deus Ex, Dishonored, Prey 2017), where the player can overhear the enemy talk to each other. You get the âenemyâ earn a face, talk about their fears and doubts, joke around, be actual people.
This is what this scene does. It gives us a face for the normal Westerlanders that are dragged into Cerseiâs bullshit.
They were very clean and pretty, for a bunch of normal soldiers, though. Smear some mud on their cloaks. I also felt they were just a wee bit too chummy with Arya, but overall the scene was stellar.
Clegane with the Brotherhood:
Probably the best collection of scenes in the entire episode. Yes Clegane, you are a terrible person, and you need to see just how terrible first hand. The great thing here is that, in such a fast-paced episode where everything is setting up something, this scene takes itâs time. They donât rush through it, donât force the lines along. Itâs a pure character building moment.
Some people have issue with how Sandor saw things in the fire, but I think it makes sense. The Age of Magic is coming, and the Lord of Light wants everyone to know it. If you know how to speak to him, he will answer back. And Sandor actually seeing things in the fireâŠI think it shows how much closer he is facing his brother. In season two, he couldnât even look at the fires on Blackwater Bay, and he was nowhere close to filling Gregorâs heart with a sword. But season six, and Cleganebowl is FUCKING CONFIRMED.
The gravedigging scene was a nice nod to his role as the Gravedigger from the books.
Sam and Gilly and Jorah:
Hey, Little Sam got bigger! Only took him like four years.
The scene was pretty much just an exposition scene with decent dialogue. My biggest complaint is that there really isnât much more to it besides that. We donât get much character building, just a setup for Jon meeting up with Dany in the next few episodes.
Also, can we just have the Perv from Bear Island die from greyscale already? Most worthless character in the book. He drags everything down with him.
Daenerys Comes Home:
I WAITED NINE YEARS FOR THIS MOMENT AND IT WAS EVERYTHING I WANTED AND MORE.
Okay, letâs be rational now. DnD made the absolute best decision to make scene without dialogue. Having Dany or Tyrion or anybody else speak would have had just TOLD us what she was feeling. But this was the moment that Dany has been working, struggling, bleeding towards, since we first meet here in Game of Thrones.
We needed to see the complex emotions on her. And Emilia sold the hell out of it.
Dragonstone was the ending of the Targaryen family, and it was where Daenerys began. She was born on Dragonstone while her familyâs armada was torn apart by the most fierce storm Westeros had ever seen.
And when Daenerys finally sets her eyes on the throne that her family had sat on for centuries before Aegon the Conqueror and his sister-wives conquered Westeros, a seat she has bled for, dreamed of, been told stories aboutâŠshe walks right past it and gets to work.
She is ready to rule, but Daenerys Targaryen has no delusions. She has a war to win,
Stellar scene.
#game of thrones#dragonstone#jon snow#sansa stark#cersei lannister#Jaime Lannister#daenerys targaryen#samwell tarly#sandor clegane#season 7
24 notes
·
View notes
Text
White Wedding (Chapters 10-16)
Jaime (What Have You Done 1 of x)
The first day he kept him at bay through his normal mixture of sarcasm and superiority. Batting down Ned Starkâs pathetic attempts at ingratiation was almost satisfying. He deserved it, really, and Jaime almost laughed when after trudging after him through half the city, Jaime hailed a taxi and jumped in, slamming the car door shut in Nedâs face. Only for Ned to show up at Cerseiâs, tired and dirty, two hours later right as Jaime was in the middle of inquiring whether Cersei had ever noticed that Robert talked with his mouth full. âI thought you were going to help Jaime childproof the kitchen?â Cersei eyed Nedâs disheveled appearance disdainfully. âI missed the cab,â Ned ground out, âand had to walk. I didnât know the area and I got lost several times.â Good riddance. The second day, it was just annoying. Ned always got up to talk to Robert in the painfully early morning before Robert departed for practice, which doubled the volume of noises that Jaime had to sleep through. Even being mean to him wasnât as fun as it had been the day before, when Ned just stoically endured it as he had yesterday. Plus Jaime couldnât get a moment alone with Cersei. Ned just kept popping up with a stupid question or a corny joke. It was driving Jaime mad. âI canât concentrate with his stupid horse face jumping out at me at every corner,â Jaime hissed on the phone to Stannis. âI made a perfectly good list of all the disgusting things that Robert does while eating and Iâve barely gotten through a third of them.â âDid you include the fact that he double dips?â âEveryone double dips, Stannis,â Jaime rolled his eyes. There was a distinct hiss on the line. âItâs so unlucky! Of all the times for Ned Stark to get a crisis of conscience, why did it have to be now?!â Jaime warmed to his theme. âItâs not unlucky. Robertâs fucking with you and heâs winning. Get your head in the game.â Jaime made a doubtful noise. Like that sod was capable of psychological warfare. âI think itâs just Ned. Heâs really weird and irritating. I donât see how Robert stands having him around.â âYou underestimate him,â Stannis growled. âNed? Maybe. Weird, irritating, pretentious, so fucking earnest, dull, mindlessly loyalââ âNot Ned,â Stannis sounded exasperated. âRobert.â Jaime blinked. He had seen Robert get stuck in a revolving door once. âLook, you have to understand that heâs a person of average to slightly below average intelligence who has realized his life will be much easier if everyone thinks heâs a moron.â âThatâs ridiculous,â Jaime scoffed. âWhy would anyone ever do that?â âBecause heâs very lazy. And I suspect he finds it funny.â âWell have you ever considered maybe heâs just really stupid?â âI did live with him for eighteen years!â That was a good point. Stannis was also weird and irritating. Probably Robert had just built up a tolerance. âLook itâs fine to be related to someone stupid. My cousin Lancel makes Robert look sharp. My point is that Ned is driving me mad and Iâve made no progress on planting seeds of doubt in Cerseiâs mind because everywhere I go, he follows after.â âMaybe that will work to our advantage,â Stannis said thoughtfully. âHuh?â Jaime wondered if maybe stupidity didnât run in the family. âLook weâve been attacking the Cersei angle. Maybe thereâs a Robert angle. And nobody knows Robertâs secrets like Ned.â âWhy would there be a Robert angle? Of course the big doofus is happy to marry her.â âHappy to have Tywin Lannister as a father in law?!â Stannis sounded horrified. Jaime considered. âOk Iâll ugh... talk to Ned,â he said begrudgingly. With a shiver of distaste he hung up, and stepped out of the closet where the washer and dryer were kept. Since Cersei sent all her clothes to the dry cleaner, heâd discovered this was the one place where he could plot uninterrupted. Unobserved, he could sneak into this room and call Stannis or just jot down random ideas in a solo brainstorming session, as Cersei and Brienne did muscle toning yoga or whatever faddish obsession Cersei had fixated on for the day, nobody ever suspecting that he was working from within to bring down this entireâ âHi!â Ned gave a forced smile from where he had been waiting outside the closet. âWhatcha doing?â âNone of your business, Stark,â Jaime snapped. Ned flinched but stood his ground. Jaime reminded himself that perhaps this was not the best way to worm out Robertâs secrets. What was the best way? Alcohol. Alcohol was the best way. âSay, all this baby proofing has made me really thirsty,â Jaime said, shifting gears. âDo you want some water?â Ned offered. âCersei also has some sparkling apple cider in the fridge?â âNo,â Jaime shuddered. âI meant a proper drink.â âItâs noon,â Ned blinked. âSo are you coming or not?â Jaime raised an eyebrow. Nedâs shoulders fell. âJust let me grab my wallet.â Ned drunk was not an improvement on Ned sober. It had been easy to get him drunk because Jaime had told him he didnât like the first beer he had ordered and could Ned finish it so he could order a new one. And then he did it again on the third beer. And then he suggested shots and Ned was too tipsy to notice that Jaime was dumping his over his shoulder when he took them. But now that Ned was drunk, Jaime was discovering that he was a really REALLY affectionate drunk. âStark, people are staring,â Jaime said through gritted teeth as they staggered into the sunlight from the dark cave of the bar. âAt what?â Ned hiccuped, his chin resting on Jaimeâs shoulder and his arms wrapped around him. âAt you! Let me go!â Jaime tried to use his words. It was like talking to a rock. âI canât,â Ned said in a reasonable tone, arms remaining firmly laced around him. âCan you walk slower? Itâs very hard to walk like this without tripping.â âYou donât say,â Jaime growled, aiming them for the water fountain in the center of the traffic circle. Ned could clearly use a nice cold bath. âRemind me why you canât let go?â âBecause Robert said not to,â Ned said seriously. What? âWhat?â Jaime said trying to keep the slowly growing rage out of his voice. âStick to him like glue he said,â Ned nodded, his chin digging into Jaimeâs shoulder each time. Gods. Stannis was right. Jaime could never tell him, heâd be more insufferable than he was already. But that didnât mean that Robert was secretly a person of normal intelligence masquerading as a moron. He had just gotten lucky. Per usual. âWhat else did Robert say?â Jaime prodded, now that he had the perfect window of inquiry. âThat you were going to try and ruin the wedding,â Ned squeezed him tighter in what Jaime realized with dawning horror was a hug. âBut you wouldnât really do that.â âOf course not,â Jaime said, trying to get them closer to the fountain. âThatâs good,â Ned continued obliviously. âBecause Robert says that Cersei said if anything went wrong with the Vogue coverage, the wedding would be off.â âHe did?â Jaime stopped in his tracks. âMmmm hmmm,â Ned stopped. Eureka. No more trying to undermine Cerseiâs bizarre affection for the idiot Baratheon. No trying to do vice versa for Robert (not that Jaime thought Stannisâ idea had any particular merit). All he had to do was create some kind of disaster that would lose them the Vogue coverage. How hard could that be? âYou know Stark, youâre not so bad,â Jaime said magnanimously, patting the reddish-brown head currently lolling on his right shoulder. âDoes this mean your forgive me for that Aerys thing?â Ned immediately said hopefully. âWhat?! No!â Jaime yelped. âBut,â Ned finally let go and turned to face him, eyes wide, face pale and practically radiating injured innocence. âBut...â âGo on, spit it out,â Jaime sneered. Ned opened his mouth and a stream of bile splashed out, spattering Jaimeâs jeans and shoes. Jaime closed his eyes. When he opened them, Ned was still standing in front of him, miserably guilty. With a howl of rage, Jaime grabbed him by the shoulder and flipped him over his back into the fountain. A load of laundry, a shower, and a telephone call later, Jaime reported what he had discovered. âHow do we make sure this wedding doesnât have Vogue coverage?â Stannis said doubtfully. âI mean does it have Vogue coverage to start with?â âNot yet,â Jaime admitted. âBut itâs only a matter of time. Unless we do something.â âI donât see how we take something away from Cersei that she doesnât already have,â Stannis repeated stubbornly. Ugh good co-conspirators were so hard to find. âTake for example the photographer,â Jaime pressed. âThere is a shortlist of trusted Vogue wedding photographers, and the odds of getting a spread increase if youâre already using one. This close to the wedding, thereâs only one thatâs available.â He paused for dramatic effect. âThe famously reclusive Ellyn Tarbeck.â âNever heard of her,â Stannis said flatly. Jaime kicked the door of his closet in frustration before remembering that this was supposed to be a secret phone call. âYouâve never heard of the Tarbecks?! Tarbeck International?! Lannister Corp. destroyed the company, picked it up in a hostile takeover and sold the pieces off for scraps. Walderan Tarbeck, the CEO, committed suicide? Ellyn Tarbeck went on the news and said my father as good as murdered him? Like it was thirty years ago but itâs super famous?â âWere they a shipping company?â âUh no, mining.â âAnd this happened before I was born?â Jaime growled. âMy fatherâs about to become your sort of father-in-law, youâd think youâd have done some research.â âBut heâs not. At least not if weâre successful. If it makes you happy, I will dedicate an hour to the subject of the Tarbecks after work today.â âNo itâs just, itâs general knowledge okay?! And Cersei certainly knows it. Thatâs why she asked Robert to ask her. Because Ellyn Tarbeck is a crazy recluse who doesnât read the papers and wonât know that Robert is marrying a Lannister. So he might, just maybe, have a shot at hiring her.â âOkay?â Stannis asked uncertainly. âAnd thatâs why you need to create a distraction for Robert tomorrow, the day heâs supposed to be driving up to Tarbeck Hall to ask her. Iâll offer to go, and the moment I introduce myself to Ellyn Tarbeck as the brideâs brother, itâll be game over,â Jaime explained. âTheyâll have to go with a non-Vogue photographer, Cersei will be furious at Robert for delegating something he said heâd do himself, and this whole excruciating ordeal will be over.â âYour plan may have some merit,â Stannis conceded. Was it the accolades that he deserved? No, but he would work with what he got. Jaime left the closet with a jaunty spring in his step. After days of banging his head against the wall, he finally had an evil plan. Who knew evil plans were so hard to come by? He had a newfound grudging respect for Cersei who had always shown a natural aptitude for this sort of thing. And even better, Ned was curled up in Robertâs bed, dead to the world. Jaime had an entire afternoon to himself. What to do, what to do... A short drive to the Citadel later, he found Brienne in an enormous library, struggling to unchain a book with an antiquated wrought iron key that looked profoundly unsuited for the purpose of being a key let alone being a key to that particular book. âNeed some help,â he grinned. âOh!â Brienne looked up startled, and then a smile spread across her face. âArenât you supposed to be child-proofing the apartment with Ned?â She asked, failing to hide the amusement on her face. âHeâs feeling under the weather,â Jaime said lightly, taking a seat across from her and resting his chin on his hands. âSo howâs this library gig treating you?â âOh Jaime, itâs absolutely brilliant!â Brienne gushed, her face lighting up even further. âArchmaester Marwyn actually knows a surprising amount about the First Men and the Long Night. Iâm learning so much! Itâs given me a wonderful idea for my thesis this fallâI canât wait to get started.â Jaime eyed the dusty leather tomes around her skeptically. He couldnât imagine finding anything of interest between these pages. But if Brienne liked it, he could make himself take an interest. He reached for a book. âNo touching!â Brienne slapped his hand away. âDonât you want me to get an education?â Jaime pouted, shaking just hand out as if sheâd hurt him. âNot with these books, itâll be my head if anything happens to them,â Brienne eyed the book heâd reached for with some concern, as if his mere presence might have damaged it. âSo Iâm not allowed to touch anything old,â Jaime furrowed his brow in pretense of thought. âPlease donât,â Brienne turned back to the sticky key, frowning slightly she tried to gently jimmy the lock mechanism. She didnât even look up as he stood and walked around, although she certainly looked up when she felt his lips on the nape of her neck. âJaime!â âWhat wench,â he teased, nuzzling her and letting a hand drift down to the top button of her shirt. âIâm not touching anything old. I just want a proper education,â his hand popped the button and moved down to the next. âJaime! You certainly donât need any more education in... that area,â Brienne leaned away from him but made no effort to remove his hand. He popped the next button. âWell a refresher course never hurt. Perhaps I could brush up on a few skills,â he kissed her collarbone. âI donât thinkââ Brienneâs breath caught as he sucked her collarbone. âThatâs right wench, donât think,â Jaime pulled her chair around so he could kiss her properly, cupping her chin in both hands. âI donât think the reading room is the place for this,â Brienne managed to push him away after a minute. Jaime groaned, but obediently started to rebutting her blouse which heâd managed to get half off. She caught his hand. âNo, I meant thereâs a bathroom downstairs in the stacks. Give me a two minute head start and knock twice,â her blue gaze met his own evenly. Jaime felt weak at the knees. âI knew there was something you could teach me,â he managed. Brienneâs answering smirk was all the reply he needed.
Ned (What Have You Done 2 of x)
Ned had been dreaming that heâd been sleeping entangled with Catelyn, back in their cozy Winterfell apartment, safely removed from the rest of the world, when the alarm went off. He opened his eyes to discover that he was in fact sleeping entangled with Robert, who let out a completely undisturbed snore in his face.
âI swear if that alarm goes off one more time, Iâm going to push you out a window Baratheon!â
And the rest of the world was very much not removed, Ned winced, scrambling over a still sleeping Robert to get to the alarm clock. Jaime growled something from the cot across the room and turned over, pillow over his head. His best efforts to repair relations with Robertâs future brother in law notwithstanding (well his best efforts and two quite unfortunate weak stomach incidents), Jaime still loathed him.
The mornings were the best times. Once Robert actually got up, theyâd have breakfast together and it felt a bit like when they were roommates back in Aerie, and Robert would tell him his football stories and rib him about not having enough fun.
âWhatâs up with Cat?â Robert asked as he slopped some smoothie into a bowl for Ned. He added a sprinkle of granola and some banana and shoved it over to Ned.
âShe and Robb are doing well,â Ned took a spoonful, to avoid wincing. His Ravyn conversations with Cat would be the best part of the day, only they had been... sparse. The Summer Islands had bad reception, and it seemed like Hoster always had something that demanded Catelynâs immediate attention whenever they finally did manage to connect. They were going to give it another shot later this morning.Â
âWhatâre your plans for the day?â Ned asked to change the subject.
âIâll have practice and lifting until three or so. Then Cersei wants me and Beric to film some footage for the foundation she... I mean I am setting up,â Robert scratched his head sheepishly. âSheâs rounded up a couple kids to throw the ball around with. She says the commercialâs going to go live tonight. Whaddaya think Neddy, Iâll be on tv!â
âYouâre always on tv, Robert,â Ned laughed. âEvery Sunday.â
Robert pretended to sulk at his triumphant moment being taken from him and Ned laughed again, and for a moment, he was having fun, as heâd promised his wife. Then Robert looked at the time and realized he was running late and yelped. Ned chuckled ruefullyâthe more things changed, the more they stayed the same. How many times had he helped Robert find his missing cleat in college? Then, as he found it (under a still-attempting-to-sleep Jaimeâs bed), Robert opened the door.
âIâll see you this evening to watch my spot! Play nice with my wifey and donât forget to spend some time planning the stag party!â
Ned had been mid-toss of the shoe when that bomb dropped, and his throw went badly wide. Robert, with the reflexes that had probably earned him a living as a professional athlete, managed to catch it anyway.
âThe stag party?â Ned repeated in a strangely high-pitched voice.
âChyeah!! Itâs gotta be the best ever! I am the stag king right?! My last hurrah!!!â
âI thought,â Ned cleared his throat, âyou were asking one of the other groomsmen...â
Robert snorted.
âYou want Stannis to plan my stag party?â
Ned winced at that image.
âI just assumed Thoros...â
âLook I love the guy, but Iâm pretty sure heâd be happy camping in the Riverlands. I need five star hotels! I need Michelin Star restaurants! And most of all...â
Ned rolled his eyes, knowing what was coming.
âI need women!â
âBut Robert...â Ned scratched the back of his head sheepishly. âPeople donât tend to think Iâm... very fun.â
âThatâs nonsense! I think youâre fun!â Robert gave him the same smile that heâd always given him right before persuading him to do something he really shouldnât. And as always, Ned felt his willpower ebbing away.
âWell if youâre sure you want me to do it,â Ned felt his lips forming the words despite himself.
âAttaboy!â Robert grinned. âAnd donât forget...â
âBest. Stag. Ever,â Ned recited dutifully along with Robert.
The door slammed, and Ned wondered what heâd just done. He wasnât the party person. Robert was the party person. But of course Robert couldnât plan his own party. And if he didnât want Stannis doing it, and he didnât want Thoros doing it...
Let it never be said that Ned didnât do his duty.
âHave you ever even thrown a party, Stark?â Jaime asked from the cot where his eyes were still closed.
Ned glared.
âItâll be fine,â Catelyn said, when the Ravyn call finally went through. She was beaming at him, looking tan and happy, and Ned felt their distance as an almost physical ache.
âGods know youâve been to enough of Robertâs parties to know what he likes. You can make the hotel reservations and the restaurants and then just delegate the night clubs to Oberyn Martell,â she continued.
âDelegate?â Ned repeated doubtfully.
âOf course! Whoâs going?â
âRobert, me, Stannis, Jaime, Thoros, Beric, Oberyn and Mace,â Ned recited. Renly and Tyrion were still not of legal drinking age, despite Tyrionâs protestations that he knew a guy who made the most amazing fake IDs.
âSo put Oberyn on entertainment, Mace on restaurants and Beric on hotels,â Catelyn shrugged. âYour work is practically done.â
âBut whatâll we doing during the day?â Ned fretted.Â
âI guess thatâll depend on where youâre going. Where are you going?â
âI donât know!!!â
âYouâll figure it out,â Cat rolled her eyes, and then the screen jostled and there was a squeal of âDa Da!â and then he could see his son.
âRobb!â He beamed until his cheeks hurt, his heart practically bursting from his rib cage. His boy, his darling boy. This was what was important, the three of them. Theyâd get through anything together.
âHow is he doing? Is he behaving himself? Has the cough gone away yet?â Ned asked, fingers touching the laptop screen where Cat was struggling to get a squirming Robb situated on her lap.
âThe cough is gone, and heâs learned a new word! Itâs...â
âCatelyn!â A brusque voice interrupted from off screen. The trace of a frown creased Catâs forehead as she turned.
âDaddy, Iâm trying to talk to Ned,â she said. Robb, sending his motherâs distraction, clambered off her lap and crawled away. Nedâs fingers touching the screen grasped frantically at his vanishing son.
âOur friends the Estermonts just walked in the door. You remember Lomas donât you? Heâs your age and already a city council member! Come talk to him Cat, please,â Hoster Tully said from off screen.
âDaddyââ
âCatlyn!â
Cat gave Ned an apologetic look and he tried to smile back. The screen blinked to black.
Ned sighed.
That day, he accompanied Jaime to Cerseiâs. She in turn dispatched them to a superstore with a list of items she still needed for the nursery.
Jaime spent the first hour resolutely not talking to him. Ned resigned himself to his polite ice breakers going ignored, knowing that Jaime Lannister was constitutionally incapable of staying quiet forever. Sure enough, by the time theyâd hit the second store to find all the things the first store didnât have, Jaime had transitioned to casual malice.
âYou didnât talk very long to Cat,â he said, pretending to examine a diaper genie.
âOh you know,â Ned swallowed. âSheâs so busy with her family.â
âThey sounded like they were having a great time,â Jaime batted at a mobile, sending it spinning. âSo nice of Hoster to try and introduce her to some people her age.â
âYeah,â Ned looked at the ground.
âHoster was a little annoyed about your wedding as I recall. Iâm glad heâs gotten over that,â Jaime smirked.
As if Hoster Tully has ever gotten over anything.
Mercifully, by the time they got back to Cerseiâs, Brienne had returned from her morning at the Citadel. Ned got sent to put together a day bed in the nursery, and tried not to think about Cat and Robb while sitting in a childâs playroom.Â
When he was finally released from duty (Brienne had assured him that she would keep an eye on Jaime and Cersei had disappeared to supervise that commercial Robert had been talking about), it was 5:30. Robert wouldnât be done for another hour or two. Ned felt vaguely at loose ends and more than a little sad. Basically, he could use a drink.
And really, Ned thought, as he walked to High Heart, this was perfect. He could catch Thoros alone and discuss the bachelor party. Everyone was coming later to watch the darn commercial, so heâd already be in the right place, and he could even get some dinner while he waited.
âWhy the long face?â Thoros grinned as collapsed on the bar stool. Ned, aware that he had a long face, rolled his eyes.
âOh câmon, that was funny,â Thoros poured him a pint of beer without asking and pushed it over.
âRobert wants me to throw the stag party. Iâve never thrown a stag party!â Ned took a long sip of his drink. If nothing else, his alcohol tolerance would be significantly higher at the end of this summer than at the beginning.
âMe neither,â Thoros shrugged. âWhat were you thinking?â
âWell the first step is deciding what to do. Any chance you have any ideas?â Ned asked hopefully.
âUm camping is pretty fun and easy to plan,â Thoros started.
âRobert already vetoed it,â Ned sighed. âHe said youâd say that. He wants five star hotels.â
âRight,â Thoros grimaced, using a rag to wipe down the counter a patron had just vacated. âMaybe I can sell a kidney on the black market.â
Ned winced. He knew that Thoros couldnât afford casual trips to Braavos or wherever Robert wanted to go. And that of course Robert would pay for him to go if Thoros asked, and of course Thoros would never ask. There had to be a way around this...
âI think Olenna Tyrell has a summer home in the wine country outside of Highgarden. Maybe we can call Mace and get him to ask her if we can go there for a long weekend,â Ned said slowly.
âWine country?â Thoros looked up hopefully.
âAnd itâs Olenna Tyrell. Whatever her summer home is like, you know itâs better than a five star hotel,â Ned continued, gears clicking in his hotel.
âThe restaurants in the Reach are supposed to be amazing...â
âWe wonât need plane tickets, everyone can drive...â
âHighgarden has plenty of nightlife...â
âWeâll go wine tasting during the day, maybe even go boating on the Mander one afternoon,â Ned took another deep gulp of his beer and they grinned at each other. This could really work!
âThat wonât work,â Mace said flatly, when they Ravyned him from Thorosâ laptop. From off scream there was a howl.
âLoras, no screeching when Daddyâs on the phone!â Mace protested. A glob of food hit him in the face. âAnd no food fights!â
âSorry,â Mace winced at the two of them through the screen, âjust hold onââ there was a pause as he wrestled a cherubic toddler into his lap. The cherubic toddler landed a chubby fist in his eye and then blew a raspberry at the screen. Mace gave them a haunted, desperate look. Behind Ned, Thoros was stifling a snicker.
âDaddy canât go wine tasting because Daddyâs losing his fucking mind,â Mace crooned, bouncing little Loras up and down. âDaddy needs strippers and booze and cocaine. Daddy wants to do a line off a stripperâs ass Ned. Not discuss the Honeywyne burgundies. Please.â
His voice broke on the last note. Ned realized that he had the dark shadows under his eyes of someone whose child was not sleeping through the night.
Thoros was still snickering.
âDonât laugh you bastard,â Mace hissed. âAlerie knew he had chicken pox and left me with him all week. Iâve put on twenty pounds since we got married. I spend my working hours as a glorified errand boy for my mother. This stag party is the only thing that is keeping me going, I swear.â
His eye had started twitching. Loras began attempting to gnaw at his arm.
âItâs okay Mace, we understand,â Ned began in a pacifying tone.
âDo you? If I have to watch Frozen one more time, I will use this stupid plastic spork to remove my eyeballs, so help me Stranger! Promise me Ned!â Mace gestured at the screen with a happy green spork.
âFrozen?â Loras burbled looking up.
âOh no,â Mace breathed.
âFROZEN!â Loras screeched. The screen went black.
âSo it sounds like a no on wine tasting,â Thoros said glumly.
âBack to the drawing board,â Ned mumbled. Five star hotels for Robert, night clubs for Mace, budget for Thoros. What was he going to do?
âMaybe I should just develop an illness,â Thoros poured a glass of beer for himself as well. âA debilitating illness that prevents me from going.â
âAs long as you plan to rent a hospital room for Robert to visit you in,â Ned shrugged.
âWhat if I said it was a work emergency?â
âRobert would probably hire a bartender to replace you on the weekend in question.â
âDo you think Iâm being stupid? Itâs just heâs done so much for me already, and I really donât like the idea of taking his money...â
âItâs not stupid at all. Iâm sure we can find some place in Westeros that has nice hotels with good discounts...â
When Robert and Beric joined them an hour later, they had made little progress. It didnât help that summer was the height of the tourist season. Ned shut Thorosâ laptop guiltily.
âTurn on the television!!â Robert demanded, already grabbing at the remote.
âRelax, itâs not running for another twenty minutes,â Thoros laughed. He turned to Beric. âReady to be famous?â
âI just want to be left alone,â Beric said dolefully.
âWhatâve you been up to?â Robert asked Ned.
âOh the usual. Um, I talked to Mace today.â
âHow is the old windbag?!â
âUm...â Ned was unsure how to describe the nervous sleep-deprived wreck heâd seen. âHeâs very excited for your party.â
âObviously,â Robert smirked. âItâs only going to be the ââ
âBest. Stag. Ever,â Ned, Beric and Thoros recited dutifully in unison.
âHey! Here it is!â Robert suddenly interjected, turning up the volume.
âYo, EVERYONE SHUT UP!â He shouted are the rest of the bar, who fell silent.
There was a brief highlight reel of Robert playing football, then a cut to him walking down the Maestersâ field.
âHi! Iâm Robert Baratheon, the quarterback of the Oldtown Maesters. Sports teaches us leadership, teamwork, and drive. But itâs not just for professional athletes. Ask my friend Beric.â
The camera panned out to include Beric, who waved. Thoros wolf whistled.
âStop it,â the real Beric groaned.
âShhhh, my boyfriendâs on tv,â Thoros shushed him.
âI played three years of football with Robert, until a motorcycle accident ended my career. I might have lost an eye, but I didnât lose my love of the game.â
Now the camera panned to a whole group of children adorably doing drills.
âHere at Oldtown, we want everyone to have a good time,â Robert said cheerfully. âEven children with physical limitations.â
âI donât think I can do that,â a boy with a prosthetic leg tugged at Robertâs sleeve, pointing to a footwork drill.
âNo worries, Lommy, letâs work on throwing instead! Hey, Beric, go long!â Robert shouted cheerfully and snapped the ball to the boy. With a cute grin, he slung the pig-skin and Beric caught it, diving dramatically through the air to hit the ground and roll.
âTouchdown!â Robert shouted and high-fived Lommy. Beric came jogging up, a tad mud-spattered.
âSo the next time youâre looking to make a donation, I hope youâll consider Stormâs Ending,â Robert winked at the camera. âWhere all children get the chance to be kids.â
The last shot was Lommy waving from Bericâs shoulders, giving a gap-toothed grin as a little jingle played with the number to dial.
The commercial ended.
âAWWWWW,â Thoros ruffled Bericâs hair. âThat was adorable!â
âNot bad,â Ned admitted, trying to disguise the fact that he had gotten a little teary eyed. He just missed Robb so much!
âI still donât see why you need a commercial asking for donations when youâre planning to privately fund the whole thing,â Beric sulked, batting Thorosâ hand away.
âPublicity,â Robert shrugged. âCerseiâs going to run the spot every day until our wedding. Itâll elevate my public profile outside of sports and ensure that everyone who thinks of me thinks of summer camps for kids and not...â
âPublic drunkenness,â Thoros offered.
âAssault and battery,â Ned offered.
âThree interceptions in one game,â Beric said under his breath.Â
â... other stuff,â Robert finished, crossing his arms and glaring at them.
âWell itâs great. Nice catch, Beric! Back to your old form,â Ned patted his former teammate on the back.
âWhere did you get that outfit?â Thoros asked. âBecause you looked like... really good.â
âCersei picked it out. I think the shirt was tailored. I donât even want to know how she got my measurements,â Beric shook his head.
âWell I thought you looked good,â Thoros repeated slightly dreamily.
âSo did I,â a new female voice breathed behind him. They all turned. A pretty if innocent looking high school girl was staring at Beric in fascination.
âUm guys, this is Jenny, the ownerâs granddaughter,â Thoros said blinking. âJenny, this is Ned, Robert, and Beric.â
âYou were awesome,â Jenny giggled, still ogling Beric who had begun to blush. She took a step toward him. âAre you like, an athlete?â
âIâm in law school,â Beric took a step back.
âIâm an athlete,â Robert said hopefully. Ned smacked him in the back of the head and Thoros took that as his cue to usher Jenny away from the bar.
âDondarrion, did you see that?â Robert craned his neck to look at the clearly underage girlâs ass. Ned smacked him again.
âYouâre like... a sex symbol now!â Robert continued cheerfully, rubbing the back of his head.
âIt was one girl,â Beric mumbled, his face now fully red.
âSays you,â Robert snorted. âTake it from somebody kind of famous, you gotta enjoy it while it lasts. Because the next thing you know, you have ONE BAD GAME...â
âIâm not a sex symbol am I?â Beric shot Ned a panicked look.Â
âOf course not,â Ned said soothingly. He looked over his shoulder where another group of girls were giggling and pointing at them. He put his arm around Bericâs shoulders and angled them so their back was to the rest of the bar. âEverything will be better with a good nightâs sleep, youâll see.â
He wasnât sure who he was trying to convince, Beric or himself.
At any rate, when he and Robert finally got back to the apartment, it was with a deep sense of relief that he let himself collapse back into the bed.Â
It had been a long day, but it was finally, thankfully over.Â
Ned wasnât sure what woke him up, only that he woke with the uneasy sense that there was someone picking their way through the apartment.
A soft rustle.
He squirmed deeper into his blankets. Robert was snoring next to him, he could dimly make out Jaimeâs back across the living space.
A floorboard creak. Closer this time.
What if it was a burglar? Worse, what if it was Tywin Lannister?!
Ned felt his heartbeat racing. He could see it now, a shadowy figure approaching the bed.
âWhoâs there?!â Ned demanded, trying to keep the quaver out of his voice. If it was a burglar heâd wake up Robert. If it was Tywin Lannister, heâd wake up Jaime.
âOh good, I thought Iâd find you here,â said a smooth slightly over-confident voice that Ned knew and struggled to place for a moment.
â...Oberyn?!âÂ
The shadow sat down on the bed.
âThe man, the myth, the legend,â it said cheerfully.
Ned laughed, partly in relief and partly in disbelief.
âWhat are you doing here, Martell?!âÂ
âScoot over, youâre hogging the bed,â Oberyn kicked off his shoes and proceeded to slide under the covers with them. Ned was mildly relieved that Jaime was still asleep. He got enough jokes about him and Robert.
âThere, now youâre comfy, now answer the question,â Ned prodded.
âIf you must know, I was visiting my eldest, Obara. Her mother is an escort here in Oldtown.â
Ned sighed. Oberyn had always lived a little faster than the rest of them, so it shouldnât have come as a surprise that he already had two daughters. Obara and... Nymeria. That was it.
âDo you always break in to Robertâs flat for a quick snuggle when youâre in Oldtown?â Ned snarked.
âMaybe Iâm here to see you, Stark,â Oberyn smirked.
âAre you?â
âYes, actually. At the behest of a mutual friend who called me in deep distress during a break in the Frozen marathon.â
Ned sighed.
âLook, I told Mace Iâd do my best. And I will, Iâll find something.â
âSee this is why you should be nice to me,â Oberyn flashed his perfectly white teeth and even in the dark Ned could see his sharp smile. âIâve found a solution to your problem. Well, rather Mace and Thorosâ problem. It was for Thoros that you suggested a free summer house right?â
âIâm not made of dragons either,â Ned protested.
âBut your father is,â Oberyn stretched languidly. âAnyway, you think too small.â
âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â
âWhy settle for a summer home, when you could settle for a summer palace?â
Ned blinked.
âYou mean...â
âI called my brother Doran. He said itâs fine. We are all cordially invited to the Water Palaces in Sunspear.â
Nedâs brain clicked frantically. Sunspear, in Dorne. In a frigginâ palace. Dorne with its famously beautiful women, its incredible cuisine, its reasonably accessible location...
âThank you Oberyn... thatâs amazing,â Ned stammered out. âI owe you one, seriously.â
âGreat,â Oberyn yawned. âThen scoot over more. Iâm going to crash here.â
âWait, what?â Ned blurted.
âHad a fight with Obaraâs mother. Took Maceâs call while we were... engaged,â Oberyn gave another slightly feral smile.
âYouâre as bad as Robert,â Ned huffed, but he obediently scooted over further.
âIâm worse,â Oberyn said smugly.Â
Ned rolled his eyes and reminded himself to kick him out before Jaime woke up.
Brienne (What Have You Done 3 of x)
Brienne tried to ignore her growling stomach as she gently blew the dust off a tomb that Archmaester Marwyn had sent her to fetch. She felt the normal tickle of incredulity as she thought his name. She was working for Archmaester Marwyn! In the Citadel! He knew her name! Well, he often called her Brian, but it was with affection. Like a nickname. Archmaester Marwyn had given her a nickname!
These precious hours in the afternoon that she spent managing Marwynâs bibliography were a much needed oasis of peace and quiet from the raging storm of Cersei Lannister beyond. She thought forlornly of Jaimeâs attempts to save her from this fate. He had such a good heart. If only he hadnât become one of the many nuisances she had to manage.
It was bad enough that she was running around with florists and musicians and club promoters and septons on speed dial. But now she was constantly running interference between Jaime and his sister, because he never stopped using those moments to try and get in some digs about Robert.
âHeâs so clumsy, his apartment is full of things heâs managed to break and hasnât replaced yet. And lazy. Have I mentioned how lazy he is?â Jaime had pretended to complain about his accommodations, while watching Cersei under his golden lashes to see if any of his words were having an affect.
Brienne also glanced at Cersei nervously. Her blond head was bowed over her phone, her expression hidden behind her hair.
âHeâs not clumsy, heâs just strong,â Brienne interjected from Cerseiâs other side. âAnd heâs very tall and big, itâs not surprising he has a little more trouble than most getting through an apartment. And heâs not lazy, heâs only a professional athlete who is really busy and doesnât have time to replace the mixer or whatever it is youâre complaining about.â
Jaime rolled his eyes.
âIâm not sure staying out at all hours to go drinking with friends is really appropriate father material,â Jaime tsked on another day, when heâd managed to evade Ned Stark yet again.
âBut Iâm sure heâll give that up once youâre married and the baby is here,â Brienne hastened to assure Cersei.
âHave you noticed how he always talks with his mouth full,â Jaime snorted after theyâd all had dinner and Ned and Robert had been dispatched to do the dishes.
âIt was only because he was so excited about what you were saying about the wedding,â Brienne offered weakly to Cersei.Â
Honestly it was a little exhausting spending all this time defending Robert, when most of Jaimeâs critiques were true. But she knew that Robertâs heart was in the right place, even if Jaime couldnât see it. Jaime was protective of Cersei, and maybe yes a little too stubborn for his own good. Brienne felt another surge of affection for her prickly knight in shining armor.
âAnd what exactly will Robert do once his football career is over? Be a house husband while you run Lannister Corp?â Jaime asked snidely as they watched his car pull up below.
All the same, she would kill him if she had to take much more of this.
âRobert has plenty of ambitions beyond the football field,â Brienne replied rather waspishly.
âHe does?â Jaimeâs lip curled into a sneer.
âHe does?â Cersei turned, looking genuinely surprised.
Shit. Ummmmm think. Think think think. He must have said something to Renly?Â
âHe wants to start a bar,â Brienne announced triumphantly, grasping at a wisp of memory. Or was it a brewery? âWith Thoros.â Or was it Ned?
âHuh,â Cersei said, and then went back to deciding who could be trusted to sit at her fatherâs table.
âSee, maybe you donât know him quite as well as you think you do,â Jaime said triumphantly, shooting Brienne a smug look. âWhy not postpone the wedding? Really take some time to learn everything there is to know about each other?â
No! How could he twist it! Brienne glared at him. Jaime winked back.
âWhy even Brienne probably knows Robert better than you do,â Jaime said lightly and sauntered out.
âThatâs definitely not true,â Brienne assured Cersei. âI just spent a lot of time at their house because Renly...â
âOh Brienne,â Cersei took her hand and patted it. âYou donât have to worry, I know everything.â
âYou do?â Brienne said, a wave of relief flooding her senses. Because finally, this whole ridiculous charade could be over and Cersei could talk some sense into Jaime and they could go back to planning this wedding which really was spinning somewhat out of control.
âIt was so obvious,â Cersei smiled somewhat pityingly.
âIt was rather obvious wasnât it?â Brienne blushed, thinking of Jaimeâs borderline blatant hostility.
âAnd youâve been such a dear helping as you have.â
âWell of course! You are my faâfriend,â Brienne stammered, realizing sheâd been about to say family. Which of course she wasnât, itâs not like she and Jaime had ever talked about it, it was just all this nonsense about weddings that was making her fanciful...
âI canât imagine how difficult itâs been for you,â Cersei said sympathetically.
Brienne cocked her head. Something about the gushing empathy felt a little... excessive? She flashed back on her conversation with Melisandre.
âWhat do you think weâre talking about?â Brienne asked suspiciously.
âYouâre in love with Robert,â Cersei said matter of factly.Â
Brienne felt her eyes bulge slightly and her mouth twist in an expression of involuntary disgust at the idea. Because... Robert?!?!
âOh please donât cry, Iâm not mad,â Cersei mistook her expression for something else entirely. âI should have realized thatâs why you befriended Renly all those years ago. To be closer to him. You knew it was hopeless of course, but you just couldnât help but torture yourself. And then you finally got over him and moved on to Jaime, but me asking you to be the maid of honor at our wedding has dragged up all these suppressed feelings and I just think youâre so... brave,â Cersei suddenly enveloped her in an awkward hug. Brienne stood stiffly, not really sure what to do with her arms. At length she settled on a gentle shoulder pat.
At least Cersei could no longer see her expression, because... Robert?!
Robert who could never remember anybodyâs name, who leered at every girl in a short skirt, who belched and farted and scratched his ass in public. It wasnât that he was aesthetically unattractive, quite the opposite (although Renly would definitely be the best looking of the three, Brienne added loyally), but the idea of thinking about him romantically was just... ugh!
But how could she say that to Cersei, who actually despite all odds and every indication to the contrary, really did like him?! There was no helping it.
âIt is very... hard... sometimes,â Brienne tried to sound a little tragic.
âYou mustnât worry that Iâll tell Jaime, this is just between us. These old feelings will go away as soon as the wedding is over, youâll see,â Cersei squeezed her more tightly. âAnd you and Jaime will live happily ever after. You know Brienne, youâre so much more than a friend to me. Iâve felt it for some time. Youâre like... a sister,â Cersei stepped back and beamed at her.
Caught in the floodlights of Cerseiâs dazzling smile, the warmth of her gaze, the faint scent of her perfume, light and feminine and perfectly Cersei, Brienne had no choice but to smile uncertainly back. Because more than anything, she wanted Jaimeâs family to like her, to support their relationship. And she had just won over another member. All she had to do was make sure that this wedding didnât blow up in her face.
Naturally the first person she wanted to tell was Jaime. She caught him shrugging his coat on to take the car back to Robertâs.
âGuess what?â She hugged him from behind.
âYouâve forgiven me for being better at this than you,â Jaime smirked.
âYou are, but it doesnât matter,â Brienne let him go to kiss him lightly on the lips. âShe wonât listen, because sheâs in loââ
âOh look at the time,â Jaime checked his watch ostentatiously. âIâd better get a move on if Iâm going to get to Tarbeck Hall.â
âTarbeck Hall?â Brienne frowned. That was where that photographer lived. The one Cersei was so hellbent on getting. âIsnât Robert going?â
âOh something came up with Renly, he had to run back to Kingâs Landing,â Jaime said nonchalantly. Brienne raised an eyebrow. Renly was at theater camp.
âWhere is Ned?â She asked slowly.
âStannis thought it would be better if he drove Robert. You know how Robert is with driving on highways. Stannis didnât want him to get a speeding ticket.â
âSo Stannis suddenly needed Robert and Ned in Kingâs Landing, and you just... volunteered... to get the photographer out of the goodness of your heart?â
âI do have a terribly good heart,â Jaime gave her a roguishly crooked grin.
âItâs not that good.â
âYou wound me, wench.â
âJaime!â Brienne hissed, the picture snapping into focus. âYouâre going to do sabotage the photographer! Youâre going to say something terribly rude or be an ass or a jerk or... or... SOMETHING, and then Cersei will blame Robert because he was supposed to go!â
âCross my terribly good heart, Brienne,â Jaime crossed his heart easily, âI will not be rude or an ass or a jerk. I will be completely normal and polite.â
Brienne stared at him. He never lied to her, but he wasnât above holding things back. What was she missing?
âRight then,â Brienne said matter of factly. âIâm coming with you.â
âI hardly think thatâs necessary,â Jaime started to protest. âDoesnât Cersei need you here for moral support?â
âShe has phone calls all morning, an appointment with her publicist this afternoon, and then sheâs meeting Melisandre in Kingâs Landing to discuss cakes. If youâre going to be a gentleman, I donât see what the problem is,â Brienne tilted her head, voice treacly sweet.
Jaime rolled his shoulders back, prepared to do battle.
âAs you wish, milady,â he took her hand and kissed it. âI will not have my gentlemanly credentials impugned.â
Brienne rolled her eyes, but still blushed as she retrieved her hand.
Tarbeck Hall was in the northernmost reaches of the Westerlands, and Oldtown in the Southwest of the Reach. It was a six hour drive, and Jaime didnât miss an opportunity to show off his chivalric bonafides. She emerged from a rest stop to discover that he had picked her a garland of wildflowers.
âFor my Queen of Love and Beauty,â he bowed and placed it on her brow.
âYou know Iâm nothing of the sort,â Brienne huffed, removing it gently so not to damage his hard work.
âI beg to disagree,â he frowned, looking a trifle sulky when she placed it on their dashboard instead. âYou donât like it?â
âOf course I do, itâs just, itâs hardly historically accurate. Those were reserved for princesses and ladies and great beauties,â Brienne stumbled a bit trying to explain. âNot for big athletic sorts like me.â
âI happen to think you are a great beauty,â Jaime said gently.
âWell the world disagrees,â Brienne snarked back, and slammed the car door to show she was done with the conversation.
A pensive, somewhat stilted silence ensued, and of course Brienne began to feel a bit badly. It wasnât Jaimeâs fault that Ron Connington had called her âBeautyâ in fifth grade. It wasnât his fault that the boys would throw flowers at her and run away laugh-screaming in terror lest the Beauty get too close.
Jaime would have never done that. Jaime had never been anything less than caring and protective. She loved him endlessly, adoringly, down to the last hair on his ridiculous blond head. She loved his harebrained ideas and his ridiculous family and... wait! She hadnât even told him!
âI forgot to tell you!â She blurted into the awkwardness. âCersei said I was like a sister to her,â she said proudly.
Jaime looked over, although he did not match her excitement, somewhat to Brienneâs disappointment. Instead his features seemed to be conveying more of an affectionate bemusement.
âYou know sheâs always liked you fine.â
âBut thatâs not good enough! I want her to like me more than fine, and now she does!â Brienne poked him, trying to prod him into some enthusiasm.
âThatâs Tyrion and your father and now Cersei,â she smiled.
âIs that what all of this is about?â Jaime arched just eyebrow. âGetting my family to like you?â
âNo...â Brienne said, not entirely convincingly.
âWhat on earth would make you think I cared one whit what my family thinks of us?!â
âBut I care!â Brienne protested. âI donât want to cause problems with your family!â
âAnd I donât want my family to drive you away!â Jaime ran a hand through his hair.Â
Brienne paused.
âWhy would you think they would drive me away?â She asked gently.
âBecause theyâre completely nuts! My dad is literally blackmailing my sister into marriage, sheâs fine with it as long as it helps her raise her public profile, Tyrionâs fine with it because apparently he thinks forced marriages are a thing that can work, and I donât want you to spend all summer in this black hole of insanity and decide Iâm not worth it,â Jaime admitted.
Brienne rested her head on his shoulder.
âI will never think youâre not worth it,â she said quietly. âYou are worth everything.â
Jaime leaned his own head against hers carefully, eyes still on the road.
âYouâre just so good Brienne. And my family really REALLY isnât.â
âI donât think you have the clearest perspective on them,â Brienne sighed. âBut even if youâre right, it wouldnât matter. At the end of the day, nothing matters but you.â
âI love you,â Jaime lifted his head so he could kiss her temple.Â
âI love you too,â Brienne answered. âIs there any chance this was why youâre trying to torpedo the wedding?â
âNope. Cersei needs to be saved from herself and as usual, Iâm the only one willing to do what needs to be done. Well me and Stannis.â
âShe doesnât need to be saved from herself, sheâs marrying the father of her child.â
âSheâs marrying a promise that sheâll be CEO of Lannister Corp when father steps down.â
âShe loves him.â
âShe doesnât,â Jaime squared his shoulders stubbornly.
âHow can you be so smart and so wrong,â Brienne groaned, breaking their cuddle.
âMaybe the same way you wonât wear my flower crown,â Jaime huffed.
âIf I wear your flower crown, will you stop trying to sabotage the wedding?â Brienne tried.
âNot a chance.â
They finally found Tarbeck Hall an hour past Lannisport, where the smooth highways had given way to crumbling pavement. They almost missed the shabby sign, which directed them up a winding dirt road.
Brienne was starting to think Jaime was deliberately hitting all of the potholes on purpose, but finally they arrived at the ramshackle mansion. Brienne shivered. She wasnât superstitious but this place definitely looked haunted. She half expected storm clouds to suddenly gather and a thunderclap to greet their arrival, but the summer afternoon remained oppressively hot as ever.
âWhat do you know about Ellyn Tarbeck?â Brienne whispered.
âElusive and world famous photographer whoâs features have headlined every major magazine in Westeros?â Jaime smiled at her, and Brienne felt like he was making a joke that she wasnât quite getting.
âAnd she lives here? She must be loaded!â
âItâs her husbandâs family estate.â
âIs her husband... with us?â
âNo he killed himself maybe thirty years ago. They say she went quite mad for a while.â
Brienne swallowed. A madwoman in a haunted house and she had to convince her to photograph a high society wedding while Jaime did... something nefarious. No pressure.
She walked up to the front door and pressed the buzzer, fully expecting some kind of trap door to open up beneath her feet. Instead a doleful bell sounded, chiming eerily off the crumbling stonework.
Jaime was humming something under his breath, still seeming oddly at ease.
âWhat are you so chipper about?â Brienne arched an eyebrow.
âIâm on an adventure with you, why wouldnât I be chipper?â Jaime asked innocently.
âHuh,â Brienne gave back, unimpressed. She rang the bell again, trying not to wince at the sound. There was the sound of a door unlocking.
âRush rush rush, all you young people nowadays in such a rush,â a woman with silver hair and sharp blue eyes stepped out. She was tall and slim, with a faded glamour about the sundress she was wearing, paired rather incongruously with hiking boots. Her skin was a walnut brown that spoke to long days outdoors, and made the blue of her eyes and the silver of her hair stand out all the more starkly.
âEllyn Tarbeck?â Brienne asked politely.
But the woman had frozen, her eyes fixed on Jaime. For a moment, nobody spoke. And then her gaze narrowed.
âYou!â She pointed at Jaime dramatically. âLannister!â
âJaime Lannister, specifically,â Jaime said politely.
âWhy is a Lannister darkening my doorstep?â Ellyn Tarbeck hissed at Brienne.
Brienne opened her mouth, completely at a loss for words.Â
âIâm the brideâs brother,â Jaime interjected helpfully.
âThe Baratheon bride?!â Ellyn Tarbeck took a step backward, hand on her heart.
âYes, Robert Baratheon intends to marry my sister Cersei Lannister. Tywin Lannisterâs only daughter. Since heâs paying for the wedding, you can really think of him as your employer,â Jaime replied in a faux helpful voice that Brienne distrusted deeply.
âGet out,â Ellyn Tarbeck hissed.
âAm I to understand that you no longer wish to photograph the Baratheon-Lannister nuptials?â Jaime said in a voice that fell a couple miles short of shocked.
âGET OUT!!!â Ellyn Tabeck screeched and then slammed the door in their faces.
Brienne blinked as the echo of the slam ricocheted off the world around them.
âWell I think that went rather well, donât you?â Jaime smiled brightly.
Brienne glared.
âWhat?!â
Jaime (What Have You Done 4 of x)
Jaime didnât feel bad. He really didnât. It wasnât his fault Brienne had decided to come along and shoulder the burden of trying to stop his evil plan. She could have stayed in Oldtown and had a perfectly pleasant day off instead of schlepping across all of the Reach and the Westerlands in an impromptu road trip.
âCersei will be so upset,â Brienne twisted her hands as she paced to and fro in front of the car. She had her cell phone out and had been debating calling her for the last twenty minutes.
âNeither your fault nor your problem,â Jaime tried to give her a shoulder massage, but she shrugged him off.
âI canât tell her Robert asked you to do it, because then sheâll call off the wedding. Maybe I can tell her that I insisted on doing it? But sheâll be so mad! What if she hates me?!â
âThen I would have a stern talk with her. Sheâs not allowed to hate you,â Jaime sighed.
Brienne gave him a very doubtful look and then resumed pacing. Jaime cast about for ideas.
âLook, just put the phone down. Letâs do something while weâre here. Didnât we pass a turn off sign for a waterfall a mile back? Letâs go see a waterfall.â
âIâve seen waterfalls,â Brienne fretted. âThis is serious.â
âAll the more reason not to make any hasty decisions,â Jaime said soothingly. âSome fresh air, some exercise, some natureâitâll help you think clearly.â
âMaybe youâre right,â Brienne hesitated.
âWhen will you learn?â Jaime grinned. âIâm always right.â
There was a little empty parking lot for the waterfall, which they eventually found about a mile down a pleasantly wooded trail. Jaime had forced Brienne to leave her phone in the car, and she already seemed more relaxed. He could tell by the way the line of her neck had lengthened, the slight bounce of her blond hair, the spring in the step of her sinfully long legs... not a Queen of Love and Beauty indeed.
âWhat are you looking at?â She said, sensing that his gaze had wandered from splashing of the small waterfall.Â
âYou know what Iâm looking at,â Jaime dropped his voice, just to see her cheeks pink.
âStop,â she pushed him.
âLetâs go swimming,â he proposed, not eager to return to the car, pending call to Cersei or otherwise.
âNow? Here?â
âWhy not, itâs a perfectly lovely natural pool. Thereâs nobody around. Itâs hot as balls.â
Brienne rolled her eyes.
âAs you wish,â Jaime shrugged, but proceeded to kick off his shoes and strip to his boxers.
âJaime! What if someone comes!â
âIâm not naked,â he laughed. âUnless youâd like me to be...â
While she stammered for a response, he picked his way down into the pool below them. It was even better than he had hoped, the crisp bite of the fresh water. He plunged his head under and then shook his hair, aware that his gaze was not the only one who had wandered from the waterfall. With a mischievous smirk, he started paddling out toward the center.
âJaime, get back here!â Brienne whispered, as if someone might hear them.
âNot a chance,â he treaded water as the pool became deeper. âAnd you know I got a candy bar from that gas station. Iâm going to get cramps, Brienne. Youâll need to rescue me.â
âI will do no such thing,â Brienne lifted her chin.
âYou were a lifeguard in high school! Didnât you take an oath?â
âLifeguards donât have to take oaths, Jaime,â Brienne laughed.
âI bet you took one anyway,â Jaime teased. He let himself slip under the water and pop back up with a sputter. âThere it is! The cramp!â
âYou donât have a cramp!â
âBrienne, Iâm drowning!â
âYouâre not drowning!â
âBrienne, you need to rescue me!â
âYou donâtââ
Jaime let himself slip beneath the water for a second time, and sure enough, he heard the splash seconds later. Brienne took easy sure strokes out to him, and towed him on with her to the other side. They collapsed on the bank dramatically. Jaime tried to give a pathetic cough.
âOh stop it,â Brienne smiled down at him, resting on her side. She was still wearing her white tank top, but had removed her shorts to reveal the cotton panties underneath.Â
âTraditionally the rescuer gives the kiss of life,â Jaime pointed out.
âYouâre incorrigible,â Brienne leaned down and kissed him. He savored the kiss for a moment and then slid his hand down her back to cheekily squeeze the swell of her ass.
âThat is not part of the kiss of life,â Brienne joke scolded him. Then she pushed off and paddled backward toward the fall.
âCome back here!â It was Jaimeâs turn to scold. She only splashed him in response. With a huff, he dove in after her.
Perhaps an hour later, they clambered back up toward the trail, retrieving their shoes and discarded clothing. Brienne seemed vastly more at ease, and Jaime found that his own restless anxiety had correspondingly subsided.
âI know you were peeking during Marco Polo,â Brienne butted him with her shoulder.
âWench, I am shocked and appalled at your distrustful nature. Iâm just naturally intuitive!â
âNaturally intuitive when your eyes are open!â
âWho hurt you to make you like this? Was it Renly? It was probably Renly. Little shit never met a rule he couldnât brââ
They rounded the corner and Jaime trailed off abruptly. Ellyn Tarbeck, still wearing her hiking boots and sundress, now with a large camera complete with bulky lens, was leaning against their car.
âHello again,â Ellyn said at last, when neither of them seemed inclined to speak.
âMs. Tarbeck,â Jaime said cautiously, trying to edge between her and Brienne. She wasnât supposed to be violent-crazy, but that camera would pack a wallop if she started swinging it.Â
With a snort, Brienne stepped back around him.
âNeedless to say, I found your unexpected arrival very upsetting,â Ellyn Tarbeck said, fixing Jaime with a steely look.Â
He swallowed, and wondered what he would do if she sprung. Could he hit an old lady? He looked at her arms, dark brown and wiry. He rather thought he could.
âI went on a hike, as I often do when I want to be alone with my thoughts. Some of my deepest wells of artistic inspiration come from my time in nature, and this afternoon was no exception,â she cleared her throat, looking off to the side. Was she nervous?Â
âYoung lady, I saw you at the Castamere falls. I had been taking some shots of the light beams on the water when the two of you quite rudely interrupted. But since I was already there... well I took some shots. And I am very pleased with them, and will need you to sign a waiver allowing my further use of your likeness should I wish to use the images in my work,â she rattled off in a rush.
Jaime arched an eyebrow. Brienne looked dumbstruck. Seeing that she appeared incapable of speech, he stepped in.
âMay we see the images?â He asked, partly to buy her time and partly because he was intrigued.
She glared at him with an expression of undisguised loathing. He smiled sweetly back.
âHere,â she grunted, thrusting the camera at him. âUse that black switch to toggle. If you touch anything else, I will bury you.â
Jaime ignored that last part and blithely began to toggle away. The light on the water shots were he supposed well done, but it was all rather artsy and dull and not his thing... then he came across the first picture of Brienne. This was his thing.
It caught her mid backstroke, lips partly open in an infectious smile. The sun had caught her eyes and ever bead of water that cling to her windmilling armâit was joyous, it was beautiful, it was... Jaimeâs eyes slid to the way her white shirt clung to her curves... hot.
âLet me see,â Brienne pushed him gently. Mouth dry, he handed it over. She looked down at the screen and abruptly her face flushed.
âNo, Iâm sorry, but no. You canât use this,â she firmly shoved the camera back into Ellyn Tarbeckâs chest.
âIf itâs a question of money,â the woman said uncertainly.
âItâs a question of looking a fool for strangers to gawp at,â Brienne huffed. âJaime, come on. Letâs go.â
He let her pull him into the car, where she carefully pulled it out into the highway without ever so much as looking at Ellyn Tarbeck. It wasnât until they were a mile down the road that she pulled over, and he realized that she was shaking.
âWhatâs wrong?â He asked, reaching around her shoulders to pull her into a one-armed hug.
âI just feel so embarrassed,â Brienne mumbled into his shirt. He stroked her hair tentatively.
âThat she was spying on us? I donât think we were really doing anything...â
âNo! Of that picture, I look ridiculous!â
Jaime pulled back so he could stare at her.
âBrienne, you looked athletic and happy and pretty sexy. What on earth is wrong with that?â
âI look like I donât know...â Brienne bit her lip. âthat Iâm ugly.âÂ
Jaime sighed, and pressed his forehead against hers.
âRemember on the ride up when I said that was in your head?â
Brienne nodded, eyes sliding down to the ground. He lifted her chin up to catch her gaze again.
âI canât see better evidence. Why would Ellyn Tarbeck, a perfect stranger, care about embarrassing you? She took the picture because it was beautiful. She doesnât know you from Addam.â
âMaybe she does that,â Brienne mumbled.
âDoes what?â
âTakes pictures of... big girls.â
Jaime wasnât sure whether he wanted to bang his head against the window or cover her in kisses to prove how beautiful she was.
âEllyn Tarbeck is a wedding photographer for Vogue. She doesnât take pictures of big girls. She does artsy crap like a groom lifting a brideâs veil at sunset. Now get out of the car.â
âWhy?âÂ
âBecause we are driving back to Tarbeck Hall and she is going to show you her photography. Letâs make a deal. If you look at her other photos and think theyâre beautiful, then it means the photos of you are also beautiful, and that voice in your head belongs to a prepubescent Ron Connington and he can go to hell. If you donât like her other photos, then Iâll smash her camera to little bits.â
Brienne gave a watery smile.
âEven if I donât like her other photos, you canât do that. Just make her delete them.â
âDeal,â Jaime leaned over and kissed the tip of her perfectly freckled nose.
Had he thought the ride up was tense? It was nothing compared to the return, when he was so close to vanquishing this demon. If heâd fucked up his sabotage mission, he would have just moved on to the next plan, and the next, and the next. Never would he get such a perfect opportunity to make Brienne see herself as he saw her again.
They pulled up to the mansion and Jaime hopped out determinedly, before Brienne could change her mind. He rang the doorbell.
There was a pause, during which Brienne slowly let herself out and joined him with a hangdog expression.
The door opened.
âHave you changed your mind?â Ellyn Tarbeck demanded of Brienne while ignoring Jaime completely.
âI... I mean we,â Brienne stammered.
âBrienne would like to see some of your other art. She wants to know in what kind of context you might conceivably reproduce these images,â Jaime cut in.
âOh,â Ellyn Tarbeck looked blankly surprised. âWell I suppose thereâs no harm.âÂ
All the same, she seemed dangerously close to shutting the door on Jaime. Only Brienne lacing her fingers into his stayed the womanâs scowl.
âIâll let you look at a few coffee table books,â the photographer ushered them into an enormous library. She began pulling out large books, seemingly at random, and tossing them on a sofa for Brienne to peruse. âIf Iâm not working on commission, this is my bread and butter. I like that one thereâLife in the Ruins of Valyria. Hereâs a couple wedding books; not my best work, but itâs what the public wants. Hereâs one from my time in the Iron Islands. Iâll give you a few minutes to flip through, while I make some tea. Please let me know if you have any questions.âÂ
Brienne nodded with a polite smile and Ellyn Tarbeck excused herself.
Jaime claimed the book of the Iron Islands, flipping through it efficiently, and shortly finding a similar photo of some girls sunbathing on a rocky outcrop. There could be no doubt that they met all traditional definitions of beautyâone caught lowering herself into the water could well have been a mermaid. He turned to show Brienne, but caught her looking down at a photo from old Valyria, a child touching her motherâs face, oblivious to the melted spires of rock behind them. Brienne was smiling down at it a trace wistfully. Jaime decided to let her explore at her own pace, though he did leave the Iron Islands book open to the page heâd found.
There was a companionable silence while Brienne buried herself into the books, meticulously studying each page. Jaime meticulously studied the way she wet her lips in concentration, the way the light caught her white-blonde eyelashes.
Just as he was starting to feel rather drowsy, the Tarbeck woman returned, holding a mug of tea. She had not offered to make them any, Jaime noted with some disdain.
âI canât promise Iâd ever use your photos, but I might include it in a collection, or a similar installation in an art gallery. If it were in an art gallery, it could be conceivably purchased for a private collection,â she explained crisply. âYou could neither limit its distribution nor would you be entitled to any profit I might make. On the other hand, they are quite stunning. My models are typically happy with the results. What do you say?â
âI think,â Brienne blushed, âthat might be acceptable.â Jaime squeezed her hand encouragingly. His girlfriend the model! Suck it, Ron Connington.
âBut,â she bit her lip. Oh no, was she second-guessing herself? She was making such strides!
âI have a condition,â she said finally.
âNo strings on the distribution and no profit-sharing,â Ellyn Tarbeck said sternly. âI will not have you interfering with my artistic expression. And certainly not my bottom line.â
âItâs not that,â Brienne squared her shoulders. âI will sign your waiver if you agree to photograph the Baratheon-Lannister wedding.â
Wait what?
âThat is, if itâs okay with you?â Brienne squeezed Jaimeâs hand back, an almost imperceptibly triumphant look in her eyes. Jaime managed to smile through gritted teeth.
âOf course...Thatâs... why we came out here, after all.â
âGood,â Brienne nodded, then turned back to Ellyn Tarbeck. âDo we have a deal?â
Maybe sheâd say no. It was only a handful of photos after all. A handful of insanely gorgeous photos. What was that compared to a decades-long blood feud?
Ellyn Tarbeck delicately set down her glass of tea.
âWe have a deal.â
Fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck. This had been such a perfect plan. How had it failed? Well he knew how it had failed, and even now he couldnât be completely upset about the way things had turned out. Still. It had been such a good opportunity. But there would be others. Of course there would. Thatâs what they had to focus on. That this was just one bite at the apple. One bite that he had slightly screwed up, but only with the very best of intentions. He wondered what Stannis would say to that.
Stannis (What Have You Done 5 of x)
Stannis gently closed the door to his office. He walked over to the couch where he typically had important clients, board members or investors sit and laid down. Delicately he inserted the ear buds into his ears, and closed his eyes as the classical music washed over him.
Today had been... appalling. First, he had to deal managing Robertâs estate, and Cerseiâs hare-brained idea for a charitable organization. He knew the Lannisters created âcharitiesâ for any passing fancy that they promptly abandoned, but that was not how the Baratheons did business. It didnât help that she had been swigging a glass of champagne during their Skype call. How was he the only person who didnât think she was actually pregnant?! The signs were right there!!! It was SO OBVIOUS!!
Then heâd had to deal with a shareholderâs meeting regarding unexpected storms in the Jade Sea that were playing havoc with their shipping routes. There was a possibility that they might miss their projected earnings for the quarter, and everybody was in a testy mood. It didnât help that Melisandre had been making him sleep on the couch. He was developing a terrible crick in his neck and could barely keep his eyes open.
All because she was annoyed at him for keeping secrets. Of course he was keeping secrets! She certainly wouldnât approve if he had told her the truth!
After heâd half dozed through the shareholder meeting, heâd had to hurry over to the hospital to meet Robert and Ned, who he had convinced that Renly had been injured in an accident at drama camp.
âSo it turns out it wasnât him,â Stannis said, as they hurried into the waiting room. Ned came to a halt and Robert promptly plowed into him, sending Ned sprawling.
âWhat do you mean it wasnât him,â Robert growled.
âErm, there was a mixup with the campers,â Stannis said tentatively, having not particularly thought this lie through beyond luring Robert and Ned away from Oldtown.
âAnd you didnât think to call us?â Ned pushed himself stiffly to his feet.
âErrr... no,â Stannis said blankly. Well playing dumb worked for Robert.
There was a long pause as Ned and Robert stared him down.
âThat was very inconsiderate,â Ned said at last.
âIâm sorry,â Stannis offered tepidly.
âWe traveled three and a half hours to get here. Robert had engagements he had to cancel,â Ned continued sternly.
âIâm very sorry,â Stannis tried insincerely.
âItâs unlike you to be so careless,â Ned went on. Stannis wanted to grind his teeth, as Ned continued to lecture him on the importance of thoughtfulness, selflessness, family, duty, honor.... Who did he think he was talking to? Robert?!?!? As if Stannis had ever fallen short of the standards of good behavior. Even this was a thoughtful and selfless attempt to save his brother from his worst instincts, and did he get any credit? Of course not!
Speaking of his brother, Robert had been quiet the entire time. Something of a record. When Ned FINALLY ran out steam, Robert only eyed him suspiciously.
After a long pause, Robert cleared his throat.
âYou know you can always... talk to me,â he said awkwardly.
âOf course,â Stannis said quickly, the biggest lie heâd told yet.
They stared at each other again.
âWell come on,â Ned finally tugged at Robertâs arm. âWe have to get out of city limits before rush hour hits.â
It was with some relief that he had headed back to his and Melisandreâs apartment. Only to confront someone heading down the stairs with an enormous box.
âThat looks heavy, let me help,â Stannis scrambled to assist, even as his brain was registering that the person was too short to be Melisandre.
âDonât worry, Iâve got it,â said the allegedly pregnant Cersei Lannister, shifting her grip on the giant box and continuing down the stairs.
How was he the only person seeing this?!
After a brooding pause, Stannis had decided to go back to the office.
Now as Bach soothingly lulled him into calmness, he was able to let go of some of the outrage that had dogged him all day. It was all about to be over. No more lying or subterfuge, which he had always been terrible at. No more distractions from work. And most importantly, no more Cersei Lannister.
Yes, any moment, Jaime would call on his cell to let him know that Ellyn Tarbeck would be photographing the Lannister-Baratheon wedding over her dead body. Cersei would let Robert know she would be marrying him over her dead body. And this would all be gloriously over.
His cell phone rang. He glanced over. It was Jaime Lannister.
âSuccess?â Stannis picked up immediately.
âUm... not exactly,â Jaime answered cautiously.
Or it wouldnât be over. Because nothing ever went according to plan.
âWhat do you mean, not exactly?â Stannis bit out.
âWell I introduced myself and she naturally freaked out and told us she would never do the wedding and to get the hell off her property.â
âOkay?â Stannis sighed, waiting for the shoe to drop.
âAnd then she might have snapped some photos of Brienne while we were taking a dip at a local watering hole. Brienne was terribly embarrassed and I encouraged her to go back and meet with Ellyn Tarbeck, so she could see that the photos really were quite lovely. And then one thing led to another, and Brienne said sheâd let Tarbeck have the rights to the photos if she did the wedding,â Jaime blurted.
Stannis slowly slid off the couch onto the floor.
âIf you think about it, this is actually a good thing,â Jaime said nervously into the silence.
âHow?â Stannis asked hollowly.
âWell itâs really done wonders for Brienneâs self-esteem. You know how fixated Cersei is on appearances, and I think it was starting to mess with Brienne a bit, but sheâs been pretty proud of the photos. I actually heard her telling her dad about them, and she never brags about things like that.â
âI understand why it might be good for Brienne Tarthâs esteem. I fail to see how this development is good for out objectives,â Stannis ground out.
âOh,â Jaime said. There was a pause. âWell itâs not.â
There was another long silence.
âIâll come up with something else,â Jaime said a tad defensively.
âI think you have done QUITE enough,â Stannis retorted. âI will come up with a plan to interfere with the Vogue coverage without your assistance.â
âYou?â Jaime sounded doubtful.
âMe!â Stannis huffed. And then he hung up. Because he had been taking a lot of guff from people all day, but one person who was in no position to cast stones was Jaime-canât-even-take-advantage-of-a-perfectly-good-blood-feud-Lannister.
But Jaime maybe had a point. Hadnât he just been thinking how bad he was at lying and subterfuge? He wasnât a particularly sneaky person. How was he going to subtly interfere in the runaway train that was this wedding? Subtly interfere in a way that didnât make Robert hate him forever?
He needed help. He needed advice.
âWhy are you still here, everyoneâs gone home,ïżœïżœïżœ Davos Seaworth stuck his head in, blinking at finding Stannis sprawled on the ground.
Stannis stared at him. Thank you gods.
âAre you... er... alright?â Davos raised an eyebrow.
âYou are my best friend, Davos,â Stannis began. âI hope you know that. I would literally trust you with my life.â
âDid you like have a fall or something? Should we be taking you to the hospital?â
âAnd I have the utmost respect for your intelligence,â Stannis continued, ignoring him.
âWhat did you even fall off of? Can I drive you or do we need to call an ambulance?â
âIâm fine,â Stannis struggled to a sitting position, looking up at him. âIf you were going to stop a wedding and nobody could know it was you, how would you do it?â
âBribe the priest?â Davos tried to joke. Stannis considered.
âItâs the High Septon of the Great Sept of Baelor, he probably doesnât do that sort of thing,â Stannis decided.
âGreat Sept of Baelor?! Stannis, are you trying to stop your brotherâs wedding?â Davos glared at him.
âNot the wedding per se. Just certain media coverage,â Stannis frowned.
âWell donât piss off the Sept of Baelor or youâre screwed. I canât believe Robert and Cersei even managed to get that place. Itâs super orthodox you know, and I canât really picture them taking pre-Cana,â Davos laughed.
Stannis tried to smile, but he really had no idea what Davos was talking about.
âUm pre-Cana?â
Davos saw his expression and sighed.
âHave you ever even been to sept?â
Stannis scratched his head. Cassana Baratheon was the sort of person who considered herself âspiritualâ rather than âreligiousâ. And Steffon Baratheon was the sort of person who considered himself neither.
âMaybe a couple times at Sevenmas?â Stannis frowned. He definitely remembered Robert getting into the sacramental wine and puking on Renlyâs shoes. Renly had cried the whole way home.
âUh right, the big septs donât let you get married unless you meet with a septon beforehand. They talk to you about the sacredness of marriage and kids and sex and divorce and stuff. It varies from sept to sept how intense it is. Sometimes it can go for like six months.â
âAnd you were saying...â
âJust that picturing Robert and Cersei sitting there promising some septon that theyâre virgins is a funny thought.â
It was a funny thought. Somehow he couldnât picture either of them doing that. Something was fishy. And Stannis was going to get to the bottom of it.
âThank you Davos, youâve been very helpful.â Stannis stood, brushing himself off.
âI have?â Davos asked doubtfully.
âYes. Now Iâve got to go make some calls.â
âWhat about the hospital?â
âWhat are you talking about?â
âFor your concussion?â
âI assure you,â Stannis gave a slightly unnerving grin. âI am thinking perfectly clearly.â
The easiest way to get to the bottom of this was to talk to Robert. And as luck would happen, Robert had been brought up talking quite recently.
Stannis once more picked up his cell phone.
Robert answered on the third or fourth ring. (While such response was not particularly prompt, that he picked up at all was unusual. Stannis was used to having to call several times, and leave copious voicemails and texts before getting any kind of response. Usually in emoji form.)
âStannis, whatâs up?â He said, sounding a little stilted. Like he was on stage but didnât know his lines. Well that made two of them.
âI was thinking about what you were saying earlier,â Stannis began tentatively.
âOh?â
âAbout how we can always talk.â
âUm right.â
There was a pause.
âDid you want to talk?â Robert finally asked, sounding as though he rather hoped the answer was no. Stannis face palmed.
âYes.â
âOkay, what did you want to talk about?â
Stannis racked his brain.
âI just feel like we havenât really... talked... in a while,â he finally said tepidly, cursing his lack of a good segue.
âOh is that what the Venmo request was about?â
Stannis frowned.
âWhat Venmo request?â
âYou were mad I didnât tell you about the wedding and youâre worried that weâre drifting apart? Awww Stanny!â
Stannis had literally no idea what he was talking about. He habitually split everything. He knew Robert tended toward the belief that over the long run, all expenses would eventually net out. But as far as Stannis was concerned, the best way to net everything out was to split everything and that was that.
But Robert seemed markedly less cautious, and this was at least a path toward discussing the High Sept of Baelor.
âYes,â he said. âI feel like I donât know whatâs going on in your life.â
The statement was ludicrous. He could literally turn on a television and see what was going on in his brotherâs life.
âIâm sorry, that makes complete sense,â Robert said. He could practically feel Robert nodding along earnestly on the other side of the phone.
âHowâs er... wedding planning going?â Stannis asked.
âEh itâs fine. Did I tell you I booked Tom Sevens for the after party? Itâs going to be epic!!! And on Tywin Lannisterâs dime too, ha!â
Stannis rolled his eyes.
âCersei does most of it, honestly. The only thing she really put on my plate was getting the photographer today. Good thing Jaime was there to cover right?â
âYeah, good thing,â Stannis growled.
âHeâs not my favorite, but he really saved the day you know.â
âYou donât say.â
âCredit where credit is due right? The whole wedding might have been sunk without him!â
Stannis tried to breathe in through his nose and out through his mouth.
âSay, I had a question about the Sept of Baelor,â he said.
âUgh, church is such a drag. Remember when we got kicked out because Renly wouldnât stop crying during Sevenmas mass?â
âWe got kicked out because you drank a bottle of sacramental wine!â
âNo, it was definitely because Renly wouldnât stop crying.â
âHe was crying because you threw up on his new shoes!â
âHahahahaha thatâs right. See, I told you it was his fault. So whatâs the question?â
âWell Davos said thereâs some kind of pre-ceremony education course you have to do?â
Robert groaned.
âUgh itâs the worst. Cersei had her father make a huge donation to get the space, so theyâre letting us do most of the classes online. Itâs like three hours on Sundays. Cersei just texts me the answers.â
Stannis frowned, first at the flagrant rule bending for those with money, second at the flagrant rule breaking by Robert, and third at the fact that there didnât seem to be an angle here.
âSo itâs a done deal? You just have to do some stuff online?â
Maybe he would have to bribe the septon...
âWell that and meet with some deacon next weekend to get the final nod. They just want someone to talk to you and make sure youâre living in the light of the seven and all that jazz. Cersei is worried theyâll be able to tell sheâs pregnant, so sheâs sending me with Brienne.â
âHowâs that work? Wonât they notice when you show up with a different bride?â
âNah, itâs not the same guy. This is just some little foot soldier. As long as we seem like good sept-going people, itâll be fine. Anybody could show up really, itâs not like they check.â
Stannis blinked. And then he smirked. Anybody.
âThat gives me an idea,â he said casually. âIt seems so silly for you and Brienne to come all this way to Kingâs Landing when youâre both in Oldtown. Why donât I take Melisandre?â
âReally? Youâd do that?!â
âI would be delighted to assist.â
âWow thatâs⊠huge. Youâre such a good brother. I donât think youâve ever let me down in your whole life.â
Stannis shifted uncomfortably.
âWell letâs not get carried away.â
âIâm serious! I would trust you with my life. You would never deliberately screw me over and thereâs not many people in the world I can say that about.â
Stannis was having an acute pain somewhere in his gut. He wondered if this was acid reflux.
âI would certainly always act in your best interest,â he managed finally. His gut uncurled slightly.
âNo itâs more than that. You always keep your word to the letter,â Robert continued blithely. The stomach ache intensified. âIf you give me your word that youâll go the High Sept and impress the deacon, I know youâll do it.â
âEh,â Stannis managed, clutching his side.
âSo I have your word that itâs done? I canât afford something like todayâs mix up happening on Sunday!â
Stannis sat heavily, bringing his knees to his chest.
âStannis, I have your word right?â
There was no helping it.
âYes,â Stannis managed. He wondered if it was too late to get Davos to take him to the hospital.
Melisandre (What Have You Done 6 of x)
Melisandre did not do weddings. She just... didnât. She hadnât liked weddings at the red temple, which were simple hand-tying ceremonies followed by a jump over a pit of coals. She didnât like weddings, but if you were going to have a wedding, thatâs how a wedding should be. Just a pledge of love before Râhllor and maybe a little fire. But even back then, when she had been going to temple, she had felt suspicious of all the guests, the dress, the ring.Â
It felt performative. Like love wasnât love unless all your friends and family saw you declaring it. It felt ostentatious, with the five thousand dollar dress that youâd wear once. It felt... fake.
And this wedding, this Frankenstein horror of white lace and pink tulle, was everything that was terrible about weddings rolled into one. Weddings under the faith of the seven already were especially irritating. Melisandre didnât think it was crazy to point out how completely sexist and archaic the concept of a father giving away his daughter to take on her husbandâs family name was. Sure, why not treat an adult woman as chattel? And donât even get her started on the vows. The woman was supposed to love, cherish and OBEY?!?! Get a fucking dog.
Then add in Cersei, for whom the ostentatious and performative aspects of the wedding were the whole point.Â
Then add in the part where Stannis was plotting behind her back, thus undoing literally six years of working on their communication issues together.
Then add in... whatever this was.
Cersei delicately put a bite of red velvet cake with vanilla frosting in her mouth. She chewed, an expression of concentration on her face. Then she spat, into the bucket held by the Crossroads Inn pastry chefâs assistant.
âToo moist. The cake overpowers the frosting,â she announced. The chef and his assistant and the owner of the Crossroads Inn all nodded gravely. Melisandre looked out the window.
âAre you getting this down, Melisandre?!â Cersei snapped. With a sigh, Melisandre produced her notebook.
âSample 63: Too moist. Frosting overpowered,â she read dully.
Cersei nodded in satisfaction, previous equanimity restored. She took a swish of her sparkling apple cider to cleanse her palette and waved an imperious hand for the next sample.
But the worst part of this whole wedding nonsense, hands down, was her involvement. It had been a terrible confluence of needing to beat Stannis at his own game and needing to save Brienne from her silly self-effacing self. And now, she was watching as Cersei took a mere sniff of carrot-cake before bellowing âNEXT!â
Sample 64: Carrot-cake.
The dreary fact was that Melisandre was the only bridesmaid in Kingâs Landing. There were good, sensible reasons that she should be shouldering some of this burden. At least if she didnât want Cersei Lannister, Queen of the World, to pitch a fit and ban her from the wedding. Cake tasting, at the time, had seemed like a low-key, even fun activity to choose. But she didnât even get to try the samples!!
Cersei spit a piece of what looked like German chocolate cake into the bin.
âToo rich!â
Sample 65: Too rich.
âI think Iâll do four layers, each with a different flavor,â Cersei said to Melisandre as Melisandre carefully drove them both back to her apartment.
âThe largest base layer will be vanilla and vanilla cream icing. Simple, elegant, and it will taste completely boring. I can give it to the second tier wedding guests and anyone who has displease me,â Cersei turned the rear view mirror so she could fluff her hair.
Melisandre turned the rear view mirror back to its original position.
âThe second layer will be that devilâs deluxe chocolate with the sea salt sprinkles,â Cersei continued, ignoring her entirely.
Melisandre tuned out the discussion of the third and fourth layer, idly wondering what she would have for dinner. And what Stannis would not be having for dinner. Letâs see how he liked fending for himself when he got home from the office.
She pulled into her parking garage. She had gotten into the service elevator, gotten out on her floor, walked down the hallway and had her key in the lock before she realized that Cersei was still trailing after her, wondering where she could get a tiny bride and groom of spun sugar perfectly modeled on her and Robert.Â
Melisandre grudgingly let her in, while fantasizing biting the head off a tiny spun sugar perfectly modeled on Cersei Lannister.
âThis is nice,â Cersei looked around their lofted apartment. âIt will be so easy to child proof when you and Stannis get married.â
Melisandre schooled her features into a smooth blankness so that she wouldnât flinch at Cerseiâs remarks. She hated weddings.
âLet me give you the grand tour,â Melisandre said politely to change the subject. Unfortunately that meant Cersei pursing her lips over every streak of dustââyou should just get a housekeeper, thatâs what I doââand shaking her head over every pot in the sinkââyou donât have a chef?!ââand even the box that the tv had come from that she hadnât bothered to ever move out of their bedroomââreally itâs an empty box, Iâll move it myself.â
It was as Cersei accomplished the latter task that Stannis came in. Melisandre took some dark joy in the expression of frozen outrage when he spotted her.
âStannis, donât mind us. Weâre just doing some wedding prep,â Melisandre slid her arm around Cerseiâs waist. Cersei beamed at her. âYou know how excited I am about the wedding!â Melisandre added, just to twist the knife.
âExcuse me... I... I forgot something at the office,â Stannis muttered, looking like he might puke. He hurried back out the door.
âMelisandre, Iâm touched,â Cersei said. âYou know, maybe this is silly, but I always got the sense that you didnât like me very much.â
âDonât be ridiculous,â Melisandre said weakly.
âAnd you seemed very unenthused about the wedding,â Cersei continued.
âNothing to do with you,â Melisandre said, this time truthfully.
âI suppose it is silly. Well Iâm glad to share this moment with you,â Cersei squeezed her into a hug. Melisandre went stiff. She didnât do hugs. âItâs nice to have another friend I can trust.â
âWell off you go,â Melisandre gently disentangled herself. âIâd hate for you to hit the rush hour traffic getting out of here.â
âOh so true,â Cersei dropped the tender act briskly. âLetâs circle up regarding the final menu. Toodles.â
And she was gone.
Melisandre went to the freezer and got out a pint of ice cream. She proceeded to collapse on the couch.Â
She was still there when Stannis came back several hours later.
âIs she gone?â He asked abruptly.
Melisandre arched an eyebrow at him, and took another spoonful of ice cream.
âYouâre being so childish, just tell me whatâs wrong,â he huffed.
Like he didnât know exactly what was wrong.
After a brief staring contest, Stannis looked away.
âI signed us up for some more wedding duties,â he said stiffly.
What?
âWhat?â She said, ice cream forgotten.
âWell you did say you were so excited about it,â Stannis said in a faux innocent voice that wouldnât have fooled Robert.
âWhat are we doing?â She growled.
âPretending to be Robert and Cersei to meet with a deacon at the High Sept of Baelor this weekend,â Stannis shrugged.
Huh. Obviously he was planning something, but this sounded kind of innocuous?Â
âYou know it would be highly unethical to volunteer to help, and then use that opportunity to mess up this wedding,â Melisandre pointed out.
Stannis took a deep breath.
âAs a matter of fact, I do. So letâs make a deal.â
âA deal?â Melisandre inquired suspiciously.
âYouâll do all the talking,â Stannis said.
Melisandre considered. If there was a trap here, she wasnât seeing it. What better way to make sure Stannis behaved?
âDeal,â she said firmly. And caught just the tiniest glint of triumph in his eye.
Honestly, between her job at the research lab and staying mad at Stannis and Cerseiâs incessant wedding related chatter, she kind of forgot about it. The engagement party was coming up, and Cersei had been doing her level best to drum up the publicity to an unbearable level. Some tidbit of news about the wedding was front page of the Daily Ravyn every dayâMelisandre could only imagine what strings Cersei was pulling with Varys to make that happen. Sheâd given the exclusive engagement party coverage rights to Agora (but confided that both Varys and Petyr Baelish had been invited as guests, so if they happened to snap a photo or two or write about their own experiences, it was hardly her fault).Â
Sheâd even had that thrice damned advertisement for Storms Ending Summer Camps playing non-stop every day. It was bad enough that the jingle at the end was unbearable catchy. Melisandre had found herself humming it in the shower. Much worse was the uncomfortable realization that in a certain light, her brotherâs boyfriend might actually be... hot?Â
Which was terrible! It was BERIC. He was shy and awkward and if he and Thoros were doing anything, it was like holding hands or cuddling or something. Thatâs how Melisandre preferred to think about it anyway, and any intrusion upon that world view was most unwelcome.Â
And donât even get her started on the invitation to the engagement party. It had come in a package, and Melisandre had immediately gotten excited, because who doesnât love surprise packages? Sheâd opened the package and inside was a beautiful carved wooden box. Sheâd opened the box, and some kind of trigger activated a songâa music box? It was a jaunty little ditty, and the box was fully of sandalwood shavings that smelled heavenly. There had been a scroll in the shavings and she had plucked it out with some curiosity. Only to discover with horror that it had been sealed in red wax with a golden lion etched in the center.
Grimly, she had grabbed a letter opener and given the lion a sharp thrust to the heart.
In perfect calligraphy, she had been invited to a party at Casterly Rock to celebrate the engagement of Miss Cersei Joanna Lannister to Mr. Robert Orys Baratheon. The party was naturally on the weekend of Westerosâ national heritage dayâso like Cersei to claim a long weekend when everybody might have better things they wanted to do, when the price of flights would naturally be higher and... Melisandre had suddenly realized that the tune was in fact a remixed version of âRains of Castamereâ, a folk song long associated with the Lannister family. With a shudder of horror she had slammed the box shut. Only to see that the wooden carvings which she had dimly registered initially were a border of intertwining lions and stags. Melisandre had hissed and shoved the box away.
So yes, with the lead up to the engagement party on top of everything else, it might have slipped her mind that Stannis had uncharacteristically volunteered them for this sept thing.
Slipped her mind, that was, until Stannis unceremoniously shook her awake at 8am on a Sunday morning.
âItâs the weekend!!â Melisandre groaned and snuggled deeper.
âWeâll be late to the High Sept,â Stannis said patiently. âI mean thatâs fine with me...â
âUgh no, Iâm getting up,â Melisandre sighed. Then it turned out she didnât really have any sept appropriate clothing. She ended up using one of her work outfits, and then putting a sweater on over that and then buttoning it to the top just to be safe.
Stannis frowned when he saw her outfit.
Melisandre blinked.
âWere you expecting me to go to the Sept in one of my red dresses?â She asked slowly.
âNo!â Stannis said, but his gaze skittered away from her.Â
Melisandre brushed a bit of lint of this sweater, which she had worn in the lord knew how long.
âAre you expecting me to tank this meeting?â She scowled. That was totally it, wasnât it?! He thought she was going to be all fire and brimstone and salt and smoke and get Robert and Cersei kicked out of the sept!
âNo,â Stannis repeated, still staring out the window.
âGood,â Melisandre bared her teeth in an approximation of a smile. âBecause Iâm not going to.â
A promise that was perhaps easier said than done.
As VIPs, they were ushered first through the Great Sept itself, then through a series of gardens and courtyards and shrines to various aspects of the Seven, then, standing before a small unassuming door, they were asked to wait in an alcove with a beatific Maiden statue.
Melisandre scowled at its vacuous expression. Each successive space, overflowing with opulence and the kind of wealth that could be working to improve the lives of the faithful rather than smother their senses in unthinking awe, had left her in a worse mood.
It was quite different from the spartan halls of the Red Temple, and Melisandre felt a nostalgic ache for the smoky steps in High Hill. She and Thoros had left their temple on bad terms (well Thoros had been thrown out and she had left), but it didnât mean that she didnât miss it.
In contrast, here she was standing in front of a marble statue of a simpering Maiden some fourteen feet tall, clutching some kind of fabric in a strange pretense of modesty from what was an undeniably erotic piece of art. This is exactly what was wrong with the Seven, Melisandre sniffed. It fetishized and sexualized purity and demonized sex. You were an innocent, a mother or a witch. Those were your options. Melisandre would choose witch every time.
The door opened, and Melisandre pasted a demure smile on her face.Â
Except this time.
âWelcome my children, Iâm Brother Ray,â the deacon beamed at them, and Melisandre fought not to roll her eyes.
He ushered them into a cozy room that had been furnished like a study, taking a seat in a plush armchair and waving a hand at the couch across from him. Melisandre sat, smoothing her skirt carefully, and Stannis followed suit.
âThe online process is just so impersonal. We felt it was important to spend at least one afternoon getting to know you as people,â he gave a saccharine smile. âWe just want to make sure itâs a good fit.â
We just want to make sure you conform to our oppressive, gendered and outdated mold, Melisandre snarked to herself.
âOf course,â she said instead, and tried to give a little laugh like Cersei did. When the deacon looked alarmed, she turned it into a cough.
âAre you frequent sept-goers?â The deacon asked Stannis.
âSheâs really the religious one,â Stannis squeezed her shoulders.
Râhllorites didnât believe in hell, but maybe she could make an exception for Stannis.
âAnd you Miss Lannister? Do you attend sept often?â
âEvery Sunday,â Melisandre answered stoically.
âHow would you say the Seven guide you in your every day life?â
Melisandre felt her mind blank out. This was like one of those nightmares she used to have in school about taking a test she hadnât studied for. That was, if the test was also on principles that she loathed with every fiber of her being.
âWell... I pray to the Maiden, obviously,â Melisandre finally blurted.Â
âDo you? What do you pray for?â The deacon asked mildly.
âUmmm, protection? From... from... temptation!â
âTemptation? Like...â the deacon prodded.
âSex! And um, lustful thoughts?â
Beside her, Stannis snorted. Ass.
âSo youâre a virgin?â The deacon inquired.
âOf course,â Melisandre said through gritted teeth, kicking Stannis sharply in the ankle.
âMy, thatâs rather unusual in this day and age,â the deacon frowned. What?! Wasnât that what she was supposed to say?
âIâm just... rather old-school in my beliefs,â Melisandre managed.
âAnd you?â The deacon turned to Stannis.
âI hadnât had any sexual relations before we met,â Stannis replied, an answer which managed to be both literally truthful and situationally appropriate. Show-off.
âAnd have the two of you discussed family planning?â The deacon asked.
The ensuing lecture on remedial sexual education left even Stannis blushing. Melisandre FULLY believed in body positivity as much as the next person, there was something about being encouraged to explore an anatomically correct model of the vagina by a man who went by Brother Ray that left her thinking celibacy was underrated.
Finally, they were off that topic. Thank the lord.Â
âNow letâs discuss healthy conflict resolution,â Brother Ray beamed.
Shit.
âOpen communication is key to any relationship,â Ray began.
âSo keeping secrets would be bad,â Melisandre said sweetly.
âOr being passive-aggressive,â Stannis glared back at her.
How about just aggressive? Melisandre thought as she narrowed her eyes.
âI love how youâre engaging with this material,â Brother Ray piped in. âNow why donât we try some role play. Robert, why donât you pretend to be Cersei. Iâm going to give you some criticism, and I want you to react as Cersei would.â
He cleared his throat.
âCersei, itâs your turn to take out the garbage and Iâm frustrated that you keep putting it off.â
Stannis crossed his arms and sat silently.
First, that was a terrible Cersei impression. Second it was an even worse Melisandre impression! She didnât just launch into silent treatment when she was in the wrong, this was clearly when she was in the right and Stannis was being a frustrating asshat! He had failed at communicating first! She was just giving him a taste of her own medicine!
âSo youâre saying Cersei shuts down,â Brother Ray leaned forward. âCersei, what would you say to that?â
âRobert knows why I havenât been taking out the garbage,â Melisandre growled. âItâs because heâs keeping a secret from me even though the last time he did that, things got really out of control and he ended up in the hospital.â
âOkay but first itâs not really a secret if you know about itââ
âITâS THE PRINCIPLE!â
âand second itâs not that kind of secret and you know itââ
âAGAIN ITâS THE PRINCIPLE!â
âand third youâll just yell at me!â
âOkay well why donât we talk about yelling,â Brother Ray interjected hastily. âItâs important when resolving conflict for each party to feel heard. I want you both to start by paraphrasing the otherâs point, leading with âI appreciate that you feel...â and going from there. Robert?â
Stannis didnât respond. Melisandre kicked him.
âOh right! Ahem, CERSEI, I appreciate that you feel worried about me when I keep secrets. That it... hurts your feelings,â Stannis swallowed. âPlease know that it was never my intention. I just knew you wouldnât approve and I didnât want to disappoint you.â
Huh. Okay maybe Brother Ray wasnât a total waste.
âRobert,â Melisandre began, rolling her eyes. âI appreciate that you get frustrated when I wonât talk to you. Because... because you love me and it makes you feel shut out. And I only get so frustrated because I love you too.â
Stannis squeezed her hand. Melisandre swallowed.
âWow, really well done,â Brother Ray nodded his head enthusiastically. âOkay, I admit I had some doubts initially, but I think weâre done here.â
âDone?â Melisandre frowned.
âYes, I think the two of you are ready to get married,â the deacon stood. He shook Stannisâ head firmly, and as Melisandre reeled, he pulled her into a hearty hug. Ugh, hugging. Still, she had to admit, this Brother Ray gave pretty good hug.
They exited the Sept complex in kind of a daze. They didnât speak to each other at all until they got back to Stannisâ car and sat. Automatically, Stannis locked the doors.
âI meant what I said back there,â he said quietly.
âI know. I did too.â
âSo youâre not mad?â
âA little mad. But StannisâI need you to call Jaime Lannister up right now and tell him youâre done with this. PleaseâI donât know how much more wedding warfare I can take,â Melisandre said, trying to hold his gaze.
âYou... might be right,â Stannis sighed heavily. âI just donât want Robert to throw his life away on this. Sheâs not really pregnant!â
Melisandre massaged her temples.
âI assure you, she really really is,â she ground out. âNow call Jaime. On speaker.â
Stannis huffed, but did as she commanded.
âHow did the High Sept go?â Jaime asked immediately.Â
âThere was an issue,â Stannis scowled.Â
â...being?â
âThat it went really well. The deacon assures us weâre ready to get married.â
âHow very nice for you,â Jaime sighed. âI donât suppose you have any more bright ideas?â
âAs a matter of fact I donât,â Stannis looked over at Melisandre. âIâm done.â
âWait wait wait.... you donât mean...â
âIâm out,â he said firmly. Melisandre gave him a small smile. She hoped Jaime wasnât too upset.
âI should have known,â Jaime drawled.
Okay, not upset.
âExcuse me?!â Stannis sputtered.
âItâs just like you to give up when things get hard! This is exactly like when we tried to stop the mayor!â
âI GOT SHOT!!!â
âIâm disappointed in you, Baratheon. Melisandre got to you didnât she?!â
âIâm evaluating my priorities,â Stannis growled. âMuch as I believe you did in your interaction with Ellyn Tarbeck.â
âHey!â
âIâm going to hang up now.â
âFINE! Well I didnât want to have to do this, but you leave me no choice.â
âWhat? Are you going to call Robert and tell him I wonât help you break up his wedding anymore?â Stannis rolled his eyes.
âIâm activating my fail-safe. Just remember, you brought this on yourself.â
âIf you had a secret atom bomb that would nuke this wedding, I think you would have dropped it by now,â Stannis said suspiciously.
âMaybe I was worried about collateral damage. And maybe I was holding back. But Iâm not so worried any more,â Jaime growled.
âYouâre bluffing,â Stannis scoffed.
âI assure you Iâm not,â Jaime replied evenly. âBut I suppose youâll find out. See you at the engagement party.â
He hung up.
Melisandre and Stannis sat staring at his cell.
Why did she feel like things had not improved?
Thoros (What Have You Done 7 of x)
Thoros got to the bar early, as it was his turn to open. Honestly, he was a little relieved that he could go to his full-time job and just get a break from thinking about the hit his finances were going to take from this stag party, keeping Beric from having a nervous breakdown over that commercial and where he was going to find time and room in his budget to rent a tuxedo (naturally the engagement party was black tie... like everyone just had tuxedos lying around?!).
No sooner had he opened the bar than Jenny Oldstones and her grandmother appeared. He would have called it spooky timing, except Jenny had been basically stalking him to get closer to the love of her life. Which was great. She was a good kid. He just wished she had chosen someone more age-appropriate to have a crush on. Who didnât happen to be his boyfriend.
âEmber,â the old woman beamed at him. Thoros gave a gallant bow back and she laughed. She always claimed he smelled of smoke, and he had learned to just play along.
âWood witch!â He tossed her the keys and she made them disappear with magical swiftness.
âCâmon gran, he isnât here yet,â Jenny whispered, tugging her toward the door to their apartment above.
âUm actually, Mrs. Oldstones, may I have a word?â Thoros asked.
She lingered as her daughter retreated with a wave.
âIâve worked here part time for three years and full time now for three, and I was hoping I could get a raise,â Thoros said, holding his breath.
âI see two stags running with a wolf and a viper,â the tiny gnarled woman said wisely. âThereâs a fat flower and lightning and I see you too. Not a lion in sight, but lions are far-seeing.â
âUm okay,â Thoros blinked. âIs that a yes?â
âItâs a no,â she patted his hand. âBut Iâll give you time off.â
The door swung behind her and Thoros sighed. He wondered if Dorne would take IOUs. Maybe he could just show up with a huge handful of paper notes and hand them out everywhere they went. That would be fine right?
With a snort at the image, he started unloading the clean glasses. Maybe heâd get lucky on tips. Sure a lot of the students didnât bother, but classes at the Citadel had finished last week and they were due to see some tourist traffic. Probably the very next person to walk into this bar would be some heavy drinking heavy tipping out of towner.
The door swung open and Thoros looked up expectantly.
Oberyn Martell strolled in.
Fuck. Well two out of three was a start.
âWhat do you want?â Thoros said suspiciously.
âIs that anyway to greet an old friend,â Oberyn grinned.
âYouâre just here for the free drinks,â Thoros sighed.
âYup, got twenty minutes to kill before a date.â
âArenât you here visiting your daughter?âÂ
âCanât a man do both?â
âApparently,â Thoros laughed and started to pour Oberyn one of the dry Dornish ciders they had on tap.
âGetting excited for the Water Palaces?â Oberyn asked cheerfully. âYou havenât lived until youâve tried the Dornish spiced wine.â
âI canât believe your brother has a summer palace,â Thoros said. Sometimes he forgot that while Bericâs parents were pretty wealthy, Robert and most of his other friends were like astronomically wealthy.Â
âI canât believe heâs letting us use it,â Oberyn gave a languid shrug. âHe doesnât typically trust me.â
âI wonder why,â Thoros said drily.Â
âIs that any way to speak to the guy who rescued you from faking a coma to get out of the stag party?â Oberyn shook his head.
âNed told you?!â Thoros groaned.
âI guessed. But youâre sorted now right?â
âJust need the money to pay for this rental tux, and then the restaurants in Dorne, and then the stupid morning suits and pink pocket squares Cersei wants us to wear,â Thoros rubbed his temples. âAnd nobody fucking tips around here,â he shot Oberyn a meaningful glare which he ignored. âBut Iâm the bartender, arenât you supposed to be telling me your problems?â
âIâm worried about Mace,â Oberyn sighed. âEver since he knocked up that Alerie Hightower in college, heâs been a nervous wreck. He was plucked before his prime, Thoros. He never got a chance to bloom.â
âWe canât all have two children with two mothers on two continents,â Thoros rolled his eyes.
âThree,â Oberyn said with some modesty. âEllariaâs expecting.â
Thoros topped off Oberynâs glass and poured one for himself to toast.
âWhat are we drinking to?â Beric came in, still wearing his suit from his summer internship at the courthouse and looking a little woeful.
âOberynâs a dad! Again!â Thoros laughed.
âThird timeâs charmed,â Beric patted Oberyn on the back. Then he swiped Thorosâ glass and drained it.
âWhatâs wrong?â Thoros frowned.
âThereâs a hashtag,â Beric said miserably.
âSee this is why I donât use social media,â Thoros replied patiently. Suddenly, they heard someone running down the staircase at the far side of the bar.
âHide me!!â Beric blurted, his one eye huge.
Thoros sighed and let him around the back of the bar, where he crawled into the space normally occupied by the garbage bin, dragging the bin back in after him.
Jenny burst into the bar panting slightly.
âHi!â She said to Oberyn, her face abruptly falling when she realized he wasnât who she thought he was.
âHello,â Oberyn put his phone away and gave her a smirk. Thoros smacked him in the back of the head.
âI thought I saw your roommate come in from the window upstairs,â she mumbled to Thoros. (Thoros hadnât had the heart to embarrass her by breaking the news of their relationship yet.)
âLooks like youâre stuck with me,â Oberyn said smoothly. âCan I buy you a drink?â
Thoros was reaching to hit him again when Jenny saved him the trouble.
âGross, Iâm fifteen, old man. Now get lost, PERV!â
She stomped out.
Thoros tried to swallow his laugh. From Oberynâs glare, not very successfully.
âIs she gone?â Beric whispered from behind the garbage.
âWhat in the seven hells is going on?!â Oberyn said slowly. âSince when does Beric have more game than me?!â
âYou havenât seen the commercial?â Thoros asked, dragging the garbage out. âCoast is clear,â he nudged Beric with his foot.
Beric emerged looking sheepish.
âWith him and Robert? How could I miss it,â Oberyn rolled his eyes.
âItâs made him irresistible, but only to young women,â Thoros grinned.
âThereâs a hashtag,â Beric repeated, shoving his phone in Oberynâs face. Oberyn inspected it.
â#oneeyedhottie,â he read. Then he smirked.
âHey Beric, while youâre back there, can you get me a bottle of that good tequila? The one Thoros canât reach?!â
âIâm taller than you!â Thoros growled at Oberyn.Â
âNo problem,â Beric meanwhile said politely, reaching up to get it. Oberyn lifted his phone and snapped a photo.
âHey whatââ Beric turned back flustered on hearing the sound.
â#oneeyedhottie tends bar at #highheart,â Oberyn narrated as he typed in his phone, fending off Beric with one arm at the same time. There was a whooshing sound as he uploaded the photo.Â
âWhat in the seven hells?!â Beric snapped.
âYeah, Oberyn, what gives,â Thoros frowned.Â
Sure he did kind of think it was good for Beric to internalize that not everybody just saw him as an eye-patch with scars, but Oberyn wasnât the one that had to lure him out of the apartment every day.
âIâm solving your tipping problem,â Oberyn yawned. âDo you have a sharpie?â
âHere,â Thoros handed it over. Oberyn wrote âTIPSâ on one of the now empty cups.
âGee, why didnât I think of that,â Thoros snarked.
âNot the cup idiot. Beric. His many female admirers will come flocking to the bar to be served by him, and Iâm sure theyâll be eager to impress.â
âFirst, they would be Bericâs tips not mine. Second, did it ever occur to you that maybe he doesnât want to do this?â
âIâll do it,â Beric said immediately.
Thoros turned and Beric blushed.
âI just... I know itâs been an expensive summer and youâre worried about it. And this is mortifying already, why shouldnât we get some tips out of it? Plus I canât actually make the drinks you know. Iâm just handing them to people. Itâs your money.â
Thoros considered.
âWeâll split it. If it works.â
âMy post has... four hundred and sixteen likes,â Oberyn checked his phone.
âWell as always, the pleasure has been all yours,â he winked and strolled out.
Thoros and Beric looked at each other. From the far end of the bar, there was the sound of someone running down the stairs.
âHi Jenny,â Beric said politely.
âOhmygoshareyoutendingbartonight?!?! Thatâs so cool!!â
âDo you want a ginger ale or something?â
âSure!â Jenny beamed at him, and stuck a dollar in the jar.
The bar was two-deep with mostly legal customers and Thoros felt serenely happy. Heâd had to empty the tip jar twice. Oberyn might make a lot of trouble, but he wasnât such a bad guy, Thoros decided. Also life was great. Beric was stammering and blushing his way through flirting with the customers and it was adorable. Plus this meant heâd be around when the bar closed. And Thoros could think of plenty of ways for Beric to... help him close the bar down. Heh. Nope, nothing could ruin this night.
Jaime Lannister walked into the bar.
Thoros mentally facepalmed and continued making the cosmo-tini a sorority girl had just ordered with renewed focus. If you donât make eye contact, he probably wonât even notice you, he told himself as he twisted a lime peel.Â
Jaime arched an eyebrow at the crowd surrounding Beric and instead made a beeline to the stool across the bar from where Thoros was working.Â
Thoros kept his head bent to the task at hand, emptying another container of cranberry juice. Had they ever run out of cranberry juice before?
Jaime cleared his throat.
Thoros arced the cranberry juice into the recycling bin, and then bent down into the fridge to see if there was any more.Â
âHey! Asshai!â Jaime yelled.
Oh! There it was in the back. Thoros started to reach in, only for someone to grab his top-knot and pull. Hard.
âWhat can I get you?â Thoros asked glaring and rubbing the top of his head.
âA fucking miracle,â Jaime huffed.
âNot on the menu,â Thoros gave an apathetic shrug. Great, another non-tipper.
âOf course you canât help,â Jaime sulked, slouching deeper on his stool. âHow could anyone understand what itâs like to have a sister that you would DO ANYTHING for, and have to watch her throw her life away on someone whoâs not nearly good enough?!â
Thoros blinked.
âAnd the worst part of it is that sheâs so frigginâ vicious when she gets mad! I canât even tell her he sucks to her face! She would just marry him out of spite!â
Thoros sighed and poured him a beer.
âNobody understands me,â Jaime sulked. He took the beer absent-mindedly without acknowledging it in the slightest.
âI need a fail-safe plan. Do you have a fail-safe plan?â
âRun away and live in the woods,â Thoros said matter-of-factly.
âOf course you donât have a fail-safe plan. How could you? How could anybody have a plan to stop this disaster of a wedding?â
Thoros finished the next drink and passed it to Beric, who gave him a bemused smile as a girl wrote her number on a cocktail napkin. He really REALLY couldnât wait until everybody left.
âIf Cersei canât ruin this wedding with her unreasonably high expectations, and Robert canât ruin this wedding with his laziness, WHO WILL RUIN THIS WEDDING?!â Jaime demanded the moment he returned, waving his empty glass for emphasis.
Thoros yoinked the glass from his grip before he could break it and refilled it for him. He tried to be polite and neutral through the ensuing six hours as Jaime proposed increasingly absurd and/or illegal solutions to this disaster, including but not limited to burning down the High Sept with wildfire.
âI shouldnât have threatened Stannis with a nuclear option when I didnât have a nuclear option,â Jaime groaned, feebly pushing his glass toward Thoros. âNow I need to find a plan that ruins the wedding AND sticks it to Stannis.â
Thoros had been considering charging him for this drink but decided not to. Maybe that would teach the crazy old bat to give hard-working loyal employees the raises they deserved.
He refilled, and pushed it back.
âThoros,â Beric whispered. âThey keep ordering sex on the beach and winking! What do I do?!â
âWink back?â Thoros teased. Beric glared.
âIâm doing this for you, you know.â
âI know, and Iâm very grateful, my lord,â Thoros ruffled his hair. âI will make the cocktails, you just focus on survival.â
âItâs easy for you to say!â Beric snarked, but he leaned into Thorosâ hand anyway. âTheyâre completely besotted. Itâs worse than ever!â
âItâs the bartender effect,â Thoros said wisely. âEveryone is hotter behind the bar. Itâs magnifying your already dangerous levels of the hotness.â
âI donât have dangerous levels of hotness!â Beric stammered, loosening his tie. There was a thud as a girl fainted.
Beric flushed.
âI need an exit strategy.â
âDonât we all,â Jaime sighed, abruptly joining the conversation.
âYou be quiet,â Thoros said sternly. âYour thing is completely different. Beric, you do a last call. Iâll hit the lights and you can duck under the bar. Then Iâll say you went out the back.â
Jaime rested his head on the bar and poked at the âTIPSâ cup that needed to be emptied once more.Â
âYouâre just smug because Oberyn solved your money problems with the whole Water Palace thing. And pimping out your boyfriend on Ravengram.â
âHow do YOU know about my money problems?!â Thoros growled.Â
âDo you have to put it that way?!â Beric called over his shoulder as he tried to signed a girlâs very tight t-shirt without actually making contact with any part of her.
âOberyn said something about it in bed with Ned and Robert,â Jaime yawned. âAnd yes I do,â he turned to look at Beric.
âThis is the last call!â Beric raised his voice while glaring at Jaime.
They managed to refill their âTIPSâ cup one more time before Thoros obediently hit the lights. And poof, Beric had disappeared. It was like magic, if magic involved his boyfriend once more cowering behind the garbage.
âI think he went out the back!â Thoros exclaimed in a shocked voice when the lights came back on. There was a general stampede, and as he hung the âClosedâ sign, Thoros let himself imagine a perfectly empty bar with just him and Beric.
The dust cleared.
Jaime Lannister was still perched on his stool, the very last customer.
Thoros glared.
âI said last call Lannister. Donât you have a girlfriend to visit or something?â
âI am not moving from this stool until the answer to my problems comes walking through that door,â Jaime said stubbornly, shoving the glass at him.
Thoros gritted his teeth and began to fill it, resolving to DEFINITELY charge him for this one, when the door opened.
Jaime and Thoros both turned to stare. Even Beric furtively popped his head out.
Ned Stark came shuffling in.
Jaime began to bang his head on the bar.
Thoros considered joining him. He had closed the bar! He had hung the sign and everything! Why were people still here?! It was supposed to just be him and Beric!!!
âItâs last call,â Thoros said to Ned, trying to be polite.
âI hate you, now leave,â Jaime added, not trying to be polite.
âI got a text Jon Arryn,â Ned said in a hollow voice, ignoring them both and collapsing onto a stool.
âOur Lit teacher from high school?â Thoros frowned. Weird. He avoided contact with teachers as a rule.
âHeâs like a second dad to me,â Ned said dully. âHeâs in the Summer Islands this week, and heâs friends with Hoster Tully so they had drinks. Hoster tried to set him up with Cat! He said our marriage is on the rocks and if Jon had any interest he could arrange a date.â
Ugh fine. Thoros poured him a glass of beer too.
Ned took a long swig.
âHer father is trying to ruin our marriage!! And I know she can think for herself, but she places way to much importance on his opinion and Iâm getting super freaked out!â
Jaime had straightened and was looking at Ned blankly.
âIf her father demanded she dump me, would she do it??â Ned asked the world at large.
âWhy would he ask? The whole marriage was his idea,â Jaime mumbled to himself.
Thoros started to tell Jaime to stop talking about his thing, that it was Nedâs turn, but Ned got there first.
âHer father hates me! And Jon Arrynâs his best friend! Like from childhood!â
Jaime opened his mouth to say something and then stopped. A slow smile was spreading over his face.
âItâs brilliant,â he whispered, and Thoros felt the back of his neck prickle with a sense of foreboding.
âStark, câmon. Itâs late and weâve gotta get back to Robertâs,â Jaime straightened and slung an arm over Nedâs shoulders.
âWhy are you being nice to me?â Thoros heard Ned ask as Jaime ushered him out of the bar.
Thoros noted that neither had bothered to tip. His friends were assholes.
âIs it safe?â Beric asked, looking sheepish as he emerged.
Well, except for one.
âJust you and me,â Thoros drawled and Beric blushed. What to do, what to do, what to doâŠ
That weird feeling of foreboding hadnât really gone away, but Thoros resolutely ignored it as he hopped up on the bar and grabbed Bericâs tie to pull him closer. Jaimeâs evil plans were somebody elseâs problem. He just hoped he was somewhere far away when the bomb dropped.
0 notes
Note
What happens if Rhaegar is sterile?
well. so the plot doesnât happen because jon doesnât exist and his attempts at the wall, though deeply flawed and deserving of every dunk on him he gets, is still the only treason the north isnât completely fucked.
rhaegar and elia are only married for about three years which isnât a long time to figure out youâre sterile. probably by harrenhal, heâs feeling super antsy and his passing over her for lyanna is taken way worse by everyone - not just an insult to his wife & a precursor to madness, but a potential declaration to take a mistress. with the blackfyres on everyoneâs mind, i think people are VERY willing to assume the worst when lyanna disappears.
however. rhaegar gets to the tower of joy and lyanna doesnât get pregnant. months pass and nothing is happening. the kingsguard come to get him to say aerys has lost his mind and elia is basically a prisoner in kingâs landing. i feel af this point rhaegar is having a breakdown - he thought the prophecied child would come from him but heâs fucked two women and neither have gotten pregnant. heâs going to suspect the problem is him even if he doesnât want to admit it. I think he probably still dies on the Trident but I donât think the kingsguard would be left at the Tower bc Lyanna isnât pregnant. That might make the battle of the trident a bit more difficult. I kinda wonder if he doesnât just abandon her there and Lyanna makes her way to Starfall, where Ashara sends a message to Ned to let him know Lyanna is safe (he makes sure to send Elia and the kids to Dragonstone instead of leaving them with his father in canon, so maybe he takes her Starfall himself and then leaves?).
This turns into a "what does Ned do with Lyanna" thing and also a "what do the rebels do with Elia" thing. Neither have had a child by Rhaegar which means they're not a political liability. Tywin isn't going to order an attack on Elia, so she lives, and is probably kept under some sort of guard until they can be sure she isn't pregnant, then likely she is able to go home to Dorne. Lyanna likely has a minor breakdown in front of Ned, he tells Robert she's too fragile to be married and also "clearly" barren, and Lyanna goes home with Ned instead of baby Jon Snow. NedCat is probably way less stressed out because no Ned bastard, but having Lyanna there is going to be a stressor. Robert is probably losing his absolute mind - he won, they saved Lyanna even, and he still can't marry her. Arya is probably much more lonely. Elia is likely allowed to remarry after two ish years but Lyanna cannot nor can she have a bastard - that's going to piss Robert the fuck off.
7 notes
·
View notes