#marriage making

[goodqueenaly]

what do you think is the reason for baelor breakspear, the literal crown prince, marrying jena dondarrion, a lady from a very minor house in the dornish marches who presumably didnt like the dornish very much? could it have been daeron ii arranging this marriage to curry favour with dorne's enemies by marrying his very dornish son to a marcher lord's daughter and thus in a way simulating peace between the marchers and the dornish in the eyes of the realm? or could it have been a way to keep the blackfyre supporters in line assuming baelor married after the first rebellion, since one of the reasons for the uprising was anti-dornish sentiment?

Number one, I don’t think we can call the Dondarrions “a very minor House”. Indeed, Yandel himself counts the Dondarrions (alongside the Swanns, Selmys, and Carons) as one of “[t]he greatest of the Marcher lords” and refers to the Dondarrion seat of Blackhaven as “[a]mong the sternest of the Marcher seats … with its forbidding black basalt walls and bottomless dry moat”. Lord Harmon Dondarrion seems to have been of equal rank to Lord Tarly and Lady Caron, as all served as commanders during the campaign in Aenys I’s reign against the Vulture King, and Lord Dondarrion served as one of the three Marcher representatives at the wedding of Queen Alyssa and Rogar Baratheon. Queen Alysanne clearly considered the Dondarrions important enough to include on the royal couple’s tour of the Dornish Marches in 54 AC, and later a Dondarrion was one of the “dozen fresh young maidens chosen from amongst a hundred who coveted the distinction of serving as a companion to the queen [i.e. Alysanne]" - proof, I think, of the rank of the Dondarrions even relative to other Westerosi aristocrats. Notably as well in the main novels, Sansa thinks that while Jeyne Poole - herself an aristocrat, albeit an actually low-ranking and probably landless one - mooned after Lord Beric, the Lord of Blackhaven “would never look at someone so far beneath him”. 

Number two, it seems almost certain that Baelor and Jena were married prior to the First Blackfyre Rebellion. Valarr, their elder son, was not only old enough to joust as a knight at Ashford in 209 AC, suggesting that Valarr was at least 16 or so at that time, but was also big and tall enough for his nearly 40-year-old warrior father to plausibly borrow and wear his armor during the trial of seven, suggesting that Valarr was old enough to have reached his adult build and height. Personally, I think Baelor and Jena were married roughly around the mid to late 180s and Valarr was born around the late 180s, but whenever the actual wedding occurred, it’s impossible that Valarr was born in or after 196 AC, and as such his parents had to have been married ahead of the First Blackfyre Rebellion.

All of that said, why do I think Prince Baelor and Jena Dondarrion were married? Put very simply, I think Daeron II correctly recognized the fault lines of political factionalism in his kingdom and wanted to repair, rather than deepen, those divisions. From the beginning of his reign, King Daeron had very publicly advertised his desire to unite Dorne with the Targaryen kingdom. Not only was Daeron himself happily married to Myriah Martell, but as Yandel notes, “one of [Daeron’s] earliest significant acts after assuming the throne was to begin negotiations with his good-brother, Prince Maron, to unify Dorne under Targaryen rule” - negotiations which ended with the homage of Prince Maron and his wedding to the king’s sister, Princess Daenerys. Between the unique “significant rights and privileges” granted to the Dornish lords and the Prince of Dorne in particular in the peace accord, and the Dornishmen who were given places at court and “offices of note” under Daeron II, the king was making very clear that his government was openly and ardently pro-Dorne. 

Yet as Daeron II certainly realized, such courtly and political favoritism toward Dorne generally and House Martell specifically would hardly be received rapturously by the entirety of his realm. From the earliest days of the Targaryen monarchy, the dragonkings had, in the tradition of the Plantagenets and any number of other real-world monarchies, claimed dominion over Dorne, in title if not in fact. Daeron I had come closest, if relatively briefly, to making this paper crown of "King of the Rhoynar" a reality, and Daeron II’s own father Aegon IV had (albeit almost certainly for selfish and petty reasons) attempted to reignite (pun intended) the conquest of Dorne by House Targaryen. Daeron II’s pro-Dorne policies, then, were very much poised to be seen, at least by some of his subjects, as a jarring reversal away from a century and a half of Targaryen posturing and conquest and toward a political reality where the Dornish were, to borrow Yandel’s phrase, “rivals for the king’s attention or largesse”. That suspicion extended to Daeron’s heir: according to Yandel, “many men looked upon Baelor’s dark hair and eyes and muttered that he was more Martell than Targaryen”. This Martell-looking eldest son of a Martell queen, double first cousins with the future of the ruling dynasty of Dorne, may have seemed to suspicious factions to be the living guarantee that Martell, and more generally Dornish, royal favor was going to continue, if not indeed be increased, in the next generation of the Targaryen monarchy. 

The solution, I think, for Daeron II was to marry his eldest son and heir into one of the marcher lord dynasties. These families, founded explicitly according to Yandel to “[protect] the realm of the Storm Kings from the ancient enemies to the west and, especially, the south” and to “create a bulwark against incursions from the Dornish”, would almost certainly have been the most natural opponents of Daeron II’s pro-Dorne policies (and, given their famous pride, perhaps among the most vocal in their opposition). By choosing from among these lords for not just his daughter-in-law but the future (expected) Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and (expected) mother of the next king, Daeron II was making just as public a statement that his was not a client state of Sunspear but a united realm - one in which the proud marchers would have just as much opportunity for courtly favor and advancement as the Martells and other Dornish nobles did. The Dondarrions, and by extension any of their relatives and allies among the marchers, would be directly invested in the dynasty, with a tangible incentive for supporting Daeron II’s government (as opposed to, say, looking to Daemon Blackfyre as a rival for the throne). Too, if I can quote myself, the future (expected) royal children of Baelor and Jena, especially their (expected) eldest son and heir, “would be a microcosm of the peace Daeron sought”, as “Dornish blood and marcher blood, eternally spilled at the other’s expense, would mingle in a single person, a future king of the united state of Westeros”. 

One question I do have - though we’ll probably have to wait until Fire and Blood Volume 2 for an answer - is why Daeron II selected a Dondarrion rather than, say, a Swann or Caron. It could be that there were no daughters of the right age among any of other other prominent marcher families; it could be that Daeron II knew or liked Jena’s family more than he did, say, other marcher families; it could even be that Daeron chose the Dondarrions to temper the local geopolitical ambitions of the Swanns and Carons to each be counted “the oldest of the Marcher houses” and superior over the rest, with the king perhaps quietly reminding the Swanns and Carons that he had the power to humble as well as exalt. 

(Let's just hope that F&B Vol. 2 improves upon its predecessor and has Jena as an active, developed crown princess and would-be queen, rather than a walking womb or - ugh - another victim of death-by-childbirth.)

[capricornlevi]

nanami x reader - w.c 3k, marraige of convenience, mentions of societal pressure but everything is consensual!, nsfw, mdni!

without even meeting him, you agreed to marry nanami kento without any expectations of future love, romantic or otherwise.

the pairing is advantageous for the both of you; you get access to the impressive nanami family fortune that has grown substantially now that kento is managing it, while he gets to enjoy a close association with your prestigious family and the subsequent educational opportunities that your children will benefit from. it's sensible and by far the best option you'd been presented with.

you've exchanged letters with him, polite and concise. you can read between the lines and see that he shares a disillusioned view of jujutsu society, but is more than willing to step up for the good of his family.

you weren't coerced by anyone. far from it -- your mother and father had sat you down and asked if you were sure, that they would understand if you wanted to take more time or to choose a different path for yourself altogether.

but you know the rest of society would not be so kind or understanding. marriage between two sorcerers, as antiquated as it seems, is how you survive amongst all of these competitive, power-hungry families.

from what you've read and heard about him, nanami will provide stability. he's progressive in his thinking, and so wont expect anything from you that he wouldn't be willing to do as well. you've learned that he's a teacher at tokyo tech, and has received glowing reviews; he'll be a good father.

and so on this misty thursday morning, you lay eyes on your fiancé for the first time as he slips a ring on your finger and promises to stay by your side forever.

the ceremony is as bare-bones as your reputation will allow. the guest list doesn't hit the triple digits, a huge departure from society norms, but representatives from the major houses sit in floral-clad wooden chairs to watch you repeat the words that the officiant speaks in your direction.

nanami takes your hands in his. they're warm, which is nice. this dress isn't designed for November weather, but it's an heirloom -- and truthfully, you're glad to be wearing it. you'd never given much thought to a wedding, but it makes your mother and grandmother very happy.

you'd be lying if you said you weren't relieved to discover how handsome nanami is. you were previously shown a few polaroids of him -- staff pictures, mostly, but some with the rest of his family -- and had known he wasn't bad-looking, but the pictures weren't clear enough to give you a proper understanding of his looks.

his blond hair is styled neatly, not a hair out of place. he has nice features, strong jawline and cheekbones, and soft eyes, a good combination. you know his gaze can be piercing when he wants it to be, but now, he looks at you gently.

you know you made the right decision.

more vows, a kiss, and you're married.

___

the reception goes mercifully smoothly. the mix of guests -- powerful sorcerer family heads, rich businesspeople, and just a few of your personal friends -- didn't appear to gel too well on paper, but they mostly stick to their own factions. you greet them all until your vocal cords grow tired.

a meal is served on plates so ornate it makes you feel awkward eating off them. you nurse a glass of wine for most of the evening and nanami does the same, politely waving off the servers who approach to refill his glass.

a promising sign that he doesn't feel the need to drown his sorrows. this is a marriage of convenience, yes, but you'd like to be able to get along reasonably well with your spouse.

and, to his credit, he's been making light conversation with you all evening. he doesn't dip into deep or uncomfortable topics like your marriage or future plans, figuring that's best saved for later, but he asks you questions about yourself. by the end of the evening, you feel safe enough to allude to your desire for a future somewhat outside society's norms -- "I've always wanted to travel, honestly. maybe ... spend a few years abroad" -- and, to your pleasant surprise, he doesn't rebuff them. if anything, he seems somewhat pleased.

you have another glass of wine and before you know it, it's the early hours of the morning. you're nowhere near tipsy but feel ready for bed, ready to wipe off this makeup and slip into something more comfortable; thankfully, guests have started to slip out one by one, with only immediate family remaining.

your unpleasant and friendless older cousin makes a joke about you needing to say your goodbyes to 'go please your husband', and nanami's face sours for the first time all evening. your cousin notices and sheepishly takes a drink, mumbling something about it being his time to leave too.

with some final hugs to your respective families, it's time to leave with ...

... with your husband.

in his last letter before the wedding, nanami agreed that your city-centre apartment would be the best place to live in the first few weeks of your marriage, until you find somewhere more permanent that suits you both, and so that's where you go.

you show him around each room, including some storage space where his luggage had been delivered this morning. interspersed with some more small talk, you explain that although it's small, it's well placed for both of you to get to work. he smiles and nods, thanking you with a warmth that doesn't feel forced.

you offer him some tea or whiskey; he says he's fine.

you yawn. he loosens his tie, clearly exhausted himself.

the last room you show him is your bedroom, and it becomes harder and harder not to address the elephant in the room. there's very clearly no second bed, no room for him to stay that wouldn't necessitate a lot of closeness between the two of you.

the silence hangs heavy and loaded, both of you waiting for the other to speak.

well. this is one issue you hadn't covered before the ceremony.

you have no issue with a sexual relationship -- in fact, you're somewhat looking forward to it, having spent the evening admiring the way nanami's shirt hugs his strong arms and chest. but you're not sure if tonight, the first night you've ever met, is the best night to start.

sure, the concept of the wedding night speaks for itself, but it's not as black-and-white in your situation. he might want to spend some time settling in, first. he might not even be that interested in you.

"want me to take the couch?" he asks quietly, with no hint of resentment or offence in his voice. he makes the offer with a sincerity you haven't heard from a man in a long time.

you don't break your silence, but not because you're uncomfortable or anything of the sort -- you're just assessing your options.

"there's nothing i expect from you, just so you know," he continues, and you turn your head to face him, seeing his eyes scan your face for any sign of unease. "the last thing i want is for you to do ... this ... out of obligation or pressure. we have a lifetime to get to know each other, to reach that point -- i want you to be comfortable around me."

your upbringing has made you a sceptic, a pessimist at times, but for some reason, you believe him. maybe it's the look in his eyes, or the fact that he's taken your hand in his own, interlocking your fingers, but there's something about him that sets him aside from normal sorcerers.

he seems real. he seems as though, powers and fortunes and family names aside, he has some substance about him.

"do you want to?" you ask then, voice almost inaudible quiet from a day spent conversing with guests at your wedding.

he doesn't hear you, so he dips his head in your direction; you repeat yourself and wait, hoping you hadn't pressed the issue.

his composure doesn't crack, but something flashes in his eyes as he processes your question. he has such control over the movements of his features, over every expression in his body, except for his eyes, you think.

maybe you just happen to be good at reading him.

he mulls it over for a second, his grip on your hand never slacking.

"i want to," he finally admits. "i've wanted to for a while, truthfully. I've spent a lot of late nights picturing how it would feel to be inside you, to hear what my name sounds like when you say it. but i only want that if you want it too."

you smile without meaning to. "you imagined that from just reading a few letters?"

"yes, and it's a testament to my trust in my new wife that I'm telling you that," he replies, still polite but tinged with amusement.

it feels strange standing at your bedroom doorway, hand in hand with this almost-stranger, imagining what it would be like to indulge in these thoughts you've both been having, spending your first night together tangled up in the sheets and allowing some of the indulgence you've long denied yourself.

duty gets tiring. for a long time, you've been unsure what it feels like to genuinely want something.

now, you're pretty sure it feels something like this. it's organic and unforced, a natural desire that sends heat curling in the pit of your stomach.

wordlessly, you guide nanami into your room, closing the door behind you. there's a hint of a smile on his lips as you ask him for help to untie your wedding dress, the intricate pattern of buttons trailing up your spine proving too technical for your own hands. he's methodical in his work, careful to not damage the delicate clasps.

soon your dress is loose around your hips, your chest covered by the thin slip you wore underneath. you set the garment carefully aside before returning the favour and starting to undo nanami's shirt, avoiding eye contact as your hands expose more and more of his bare chest.

you want to do this, you know that for sure, but that doesn't mean you won't feel a bit of awkwardness at the start. you're not well practiced, having had too busy a life for romantic relationships until now. you hope that instinct will kick in sooner than later, but you've no doubt nanami will help you along the way.

when you finally build up the nerve to glance up at him as he shrugs off the shirt, he's looking at you as though you're the only person he ever wants touching him.

you hear the soft clink of metal and realise he's undoing his belt.

"are you sure?" he asks one more time.

that one question, and the earnestness with which he speaks, erases the last shred of doubt you had. you place your trust in him for the second time today.

you nod and reach across to his belt in the same breath, helping him pull it free from the loops to be tossed by the armchair near your desk.

you move as though controlled by something other than yourself, the decisions coming so naturally it feels as though you've been imagining it for weeks as well.

and maybe you have, you think to yourself, as you confidently guide him back slowly until he's sitting down on the plush armchair, his suit pants still on as you crawl onto his lap, pressing your chest against his. the thin fabric of your slip means you can feel the heat of his body against your skin, nipples hardening as they graze against his muscles.

you've just about balanced yourself, carefully perched on his lap when you feel his hand on the nape of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss that has you grinding against his thighs before you can even catch your breath.

you've never been kissed like this. the few kisses you've had before have been with partners who see you as a means to an end, be it for your family name, your reputation, or just for sex. you've never been kissed by someone who seems to get more from your pleasure than from his own.

you now know he meant it when he said he's been picturing this.

you kiss him for as long as you can, and you're not sure if it's for seconds, minutes, hours. you kiss him until there's a heat burning between your thighs you can no longer stand, that you need to have satiated by the visible, prominent bulge in the front of his suit pants.

when you finally break away, lips numb and kiss-slick, nanami's hair is touselled - you don't remember running your hands through them, but you must have at some point - and he reaches up to run his fingers under the straps of your slip, asking with his eyes if he can guide them off your shoulders.

you nod, and your chest is exposed to the cool night air for a split second before nanami's mouth is on one of your nipples, tongue circling the sensitive skin and making you cry out.

one of the words you moan must be his name, because you feel him smile as he turns his attention towards the other nipple, hands now at the small of your back to keep you close to him.

you can't take it much longer. you need to be touched so badly, you didn't even think you were capable of wanting it this much -- and you only want him to do it, now and maybe forever.

maybe he can read your mind or maybe you babbled out the request, but nanami finally takes pity on you, giving your nipple one final lick before resting his shoulders back against the cushion of the armrest and sliding his hands up your thighs, hooking your underwear with his fingers -- you lift your hips up to let him slip them off.

his composure slips further when he finally touches you between your legs, feeling how wet you've gotten for him, seeing how you react when he slips his index finger inside.

your head falls back and you hold a breath, focusing all of your attention on the sensation of him inside you, on the way he curls the digit ever-so-slightly before pulling it out and fucking you with two this time, almost -- almost -- tipping you over the edge.

"such a pretty wife," he mumbles almost under his breath, voice and gaze reverent as he watches you rock yourself against his hand. "my beautiful, perfect wife, aren't you?"

you want to answer him but can't, lungs feeling near-empty as you fumble with the buttons of his pants.

"i will never be able to think of anything else but you, i think," he muses, half-smiling. "you in my lap ... you making those pretty little noises ... i might be a ruined man, you know. and I'm glad of it."

he only stops speaking when you finally get your hand on his clothed cock, his breath catching in his throat as you trace it with your fingers.

you want tonight, the first of many times together, to start with you cumming on your husband's cock.

nanami just watches as you finally pull him out of his underwear, his length thick and hard in your hand as you give it a few messy strokes. it's all the both of you can manage before you need to have it inside you -- you shift your hips to sit on it, nanami's eyes fixed on the site of the head slipping inside.

it's a stretch, as you expected, but one you've been craving since you closed the bedroom door. you take him inch by inch, lowering yourself down as his breath quickens, clearly battling the urge to thrust up inside you.

but he's careful with you, and doesn't want to hurt you. his wife.

you lift yourself up too much and his cock slips out, slapping aginst his stomach and you nearly cry at the sudden emptiness, eager and clumsy as you guide him back inside you.

he kisses you when you sink down next, tongue massaging your own until the feeling of almost-too-full turns to a perfect, satisfying heat in your core.

eventually you're ready to quicken the pace, bouncing on his cock before long, your mind working too fast for you to keep up as you see nanami's cheekbones flush pink, his pupils dark as you ride him until your thighs ache.

you power through the sensation, nanami helping you along by meeting your hips with his, his thumb tracing uneven circles on your puffy clit. he calls you perfect and other beautiful words; you don't say anything besides more, more and, soon after, nearly there, nearly there, please, please, I'm so close --

your entire body lights up with the most wonderful sensation, hitting you like a wave and sweeping you away in its warm glow, with nanami's hands now on your hips, guiding your movements in exactly the way you need it -- not too hard, not too slow, not too fast.

you're still pulsing around him when you feel his body stiffen, his strong thighs tensing as he groans through gritted teeth. he pulls you in for a crushing kiss as he finishes, filling you up and thrusting as deep as he can until oversensitivity takes over.

the afterglow has you a contented and exhausted mess, muscles aching but satisfied in a way you'll spend forever seeking.

reluctantly, you slip off his cock to retake your place on his lap, marvelling at how undone you both have become, a far cry from your perfect wedding appearance.

you look perfect to him, though, you know as much from the kiss he presses to your sweaty forehead and the way his arm wraps around your shoulders.

"we didn't even make it to the bed," you observe, eyebrows raising as you finally return to your own body. "i ... wasn't expecting that."

"we have a lifetime to spend in bed," he replies, a smile in his voice.

and once again, for reasons you still don't understand, you believe him.

[guinevereslancelot]

first base is wound tending second base is hand touching

[vvanillavveins]

Is she Lucy Westenra, or is she just a vessel for the writer's barely disguised fantasy of a women being punished for her promiscuity? Is she really"Bram Stoker's" Lucy Westenra: a naive, innocent 19 year old, with a cheery personality and a bright future ahead of her? Or has the writer instead just slapped her name on an OC that behaves nothing like her, and- with none of the grace or decorum that Lucy's tragically short story deserves- sexualized her slow and agonising death as much as possible, whilst very unsubtly doing their best to blame her for being murdered, so that we won't object to her being killed again later in an even more gruesome and sexual manner?

[isitdonproof]

"You should never underestimate the power of love"

[flwrkid14]

The Marriage Pact (But Make It Sabotage)

ahh tysm for 500 followers!!! i never thought so many people would actually like all my silly ideas! <3

Tim and Danny, somewhere in their early twenties, jokingly make a marriage pact: if they’re both single by the time they’re in their late twenties, they’ll just marry each other. It’s lighthearted, it’s casual—just two best friends making promises for a future they’re totally not worried about.

Except… it gets a little weird.

Danny gets set up on a blind date one Saturday. Tim, the supportive best friend he is, casually mentions there’s a case he could really use Danny’s help on. Nothing serious, of course—just something that totally can’t wait until Sunday. Danny, being the responsible friend he is, cancels the date.

Tim, meanwhile, gets roped into a coffee meetup with one of Steph’s friends. It’s not really a date, but it could turn into one. Or at least, it could’ve, if Danny hadn’t texted Tim about that new bakery he’s been dying to try. “We should go! Like, now. Before all the good pastries are gone.” Tim, naturally, reschedules the coffee meetup. After all, Danny takes priority, right?

It becomes a pattern.

Danny’s coworkers try to set him up with someone they think is his type. “Oh, sorry,” Danny says, “I already promised Tim I’d help him with his tech upgrades tonight.”

Tim gets invited to a fancy gala where he might meet someone. Danny shows up with two tickets to a concert Tim mentioned liking a month ago. “Come on, you deserve a break.”

Neither of them realizes what’s happening, at least not consciously. To them, it’s just normal. They’re best friends. Of course, they’re going to prioritize each other. Of course, they’d rather hang out together than with some random stranger. Of course, no one else really gets them the way they get each other.

Their friends, however, are losing their minds.

Steph is convinced Tim and Danny are already dating and just haven't told anyone yet. Tucker and Sam are taking bets on how long this can possibly last before one of them snaps. Cass is tempted to lock them in a room until they sort out their feelings.

The kicker? Tim and Danny both think the other one doesn’t feel the same. They’re sabotaging potential love interests out of sheer self-preservation because the idea of watching the other fall in love with someone else is unbearable. But they can’t say anything, because what if it ruins their friendship? What if the marriage pact is all they get?

So, they keep pretending it’s fine. Danny keeps canceling dates for “missions” that could definitely wait. Tim keeps skipping events to spend time with Danny.

The late twenties deadline creeps closer. Everyone else is waiting for the inevitable implosion. Tim and Danny, oblivious as ever, are just… biding their time.

[galaxylover06]

Silvaze art cause I love them and need to draw them more

[lucyllawless]

[justdavina]

Amazing skirt and top combo worn by a sexy transgender lady!

[rinmemesuoka]

you can be gay in the big major developer farm sim games now so indies are gonna need to start putting some fuckin butches and milfs and fat people in their romanceable cast like come ON. I can gay marry a skinny femme 20-something in story of seasons in fact my ONLY options, typically, are skinny femme 20-somethings. i shouldn't be stuck with 9/10 skinny femme 20-somethings and one "mature" bachelorette with maybe one visible wrinkle (if any) in indie games of all things.

[aithusarosekiller]

One thing I love about Jegulus is that the rest of the school are just living their normal teen years, falling in love and being messy and stupid like everybody else. Some of them will have horrible breakups over the war but it's normal and human. Then Jegulus are there having their whole massive Greek tragedy complete with extensive metaphors, secret rooms and an intrinsically deep, historical aspect to their entire relationship that it unmatched by any other on the planet. And somehow they're still a secret from everybody else, their love reads like one of the epics but it's so small and hidden.

They're just that dramatic ig

[goodqueenaly]

In a world where all of the tragedy that springs from Ned coming to kings landing doesn't happen and their kids were able to grow up with both parents, Do you think Ned and Catelyn would have allowed their children to marry for love provided it was with a socially suitable westerosi nobleman/woman?

Keep in mind that the Westerosi aristocracy generally does not favor marriages made purely, or even primarily, for love as opposed to social/political/military advantage. Keep in mind that Ned and Catelyn had both entered into their marriage out of duty and responsibility to politico-military alliances rather than pure emotion (though they did of course come to love each other deeply as well.) Keep in mind that while Ned was certainly taken aback by the idea of Sansa being betrothed at only 11, both he and Catelyn (at least initially) agreed to the idea of Sansa eventually marry Joffrey (with Catelyn emphasizing that Joffrey as "crown prince, and heir to the Iron Throne". Keep in mind that after acknowledging the need for Sansa to marry Joffrey, Ned added that Arya would need to "[learn] the ways of a southron court" specifically because "[i]n a few years she [would] be of an age to marry too" (and that Catelyn, not long afterward, would agree to a betrothal between Arya and Elmar Frey for purely political reasons). Keep in mind that while Sansa naively insisted on her love for Joffrey as an argument against leaving King's Landing, Ned maintained his plan to have the betrothal broken off and Sansa marry someone else. Keep in mind that Catelyn's second and third reactions upon learning of Robb's marriage for love were shock and dismay that Robb had married Jeyne when he had already "pledged another".

Given all of that, I think Ned and Catelyn would have looked for politically advantageous marriages for their children, rather than simply allowing their children to marry whomever (even among blue bloods) their hearts desired. Which is not to say that I think Ned and Catelyn would have cruelly shoved their children into facially unhappy marriages as soon as possible, of course. Indeed, while Catelyn certainly understood the grave political error in Robb's decision to marry Jeyne Westerling, she, Catelyn, also tried to be gracious and kind to Jeyne herself; likewise, in Ned's response to Sansa, telling her that she would not marry Joffrey, Ned said that he would "make [her] a match with a high lord [who was] worthy of [her], someone brave and gentle and strong" - in other words, prioritizing emotional suitability as well as aristocratic status. However, while Ned and Catelyn certainly loved their children, and I think wanted them to be happy, I think both would have recognized that their children were Starks, heirs to some of the most eminent Westerosi aristocratic bloodlines in the country, and therefore not entirely free to marry wherever they chose personally.

[evilkaeya]

the best kind of ships are the ones where the characters make their relationship everyone's problem

[clairesbeauchamp]

2.08 | 3.04

[katrasining]

Here's the marriage picture as a separate post cus it's so cute actually I am sobbing-

[arnaerr]

Rellana, Twin Moon Knight & Rennala, Queen of the Full Moon

prints ✦ full process on patreon