#not even mentioning the Manderlys

[kataraavatara]

“the lords of westeros would never accept rhaenyra’s BASTARDS as rulers” the lords of westeros were having a wwe smackdown over who got to marry their children to them. borros b tried to peer pressure luke into breaking his lifelong betrothal and then cregan came in with the pact of ice and fire steel chair

[bumblesimagines]

The Beasts of The North

Part 2

Request: Yes or No

Summary: While he's meant to be convincing the Wolf of the North to send his men to fight a war for his mother, Jace cannot help but grow enthralled by the love between Lord Cregan and Ser (Y/N).

CW/TW: Typical GoT/HOTD warnings, mentions/implied homophobia/homophobic religion (The Faith), slight age gaps, slight suggestive content, Cregan and (Y/N) are head over heels, (Y/N) is not a stepfather he is the father that stepped up, bicurious Jace

I know I said I was gonna focus on UTM but my motivation left as quick as my dad did so here we are 🤷🏻‍♀️

~~~

A low, heavy sigh escaped Jace as he sank further into the tub, the heated water digging pleasantly into his skin and ridding it of the cold that'd sunk into him the moment he flew into the North. His head drooped back, the back of his neck resting along the wall of the tub as he slipped in further until the water brushed against his chin. His palms rubbed along his thighs, massaging away the soreness from riding Vermax for so long. 

His eyes glided around his new room, taking in everything around him. It reminded him of his bedchambers in Dragonstone with the stone walls and smooth, warm floor but it was sadly where the similarities stopped. It lacked the salty smell of the sea breeze wafting in through the windows, the sound of the waves crashing with the rocky cliffs, the clinking of metal from guards walking around. Most of all.. it lacked his beloved family. It lacked his precious brothers... it lacked his beloved mother. His skin warmed from embarrassment. He was man-grown and the Crown Prince, yet he desperately wished to have his mother near so he could ask her what to say and do.

Jace pushed himself up and began washing himself, scrubbing his skin clean until he no longer smelled of leather and dragon. He remained in the tub for a while longer, soaking up the heat of the water until it became tepid, before rising from the tub and drying himself. His mind raced as he changed into new clothes, his thoughts surrounding Lord Cregan and what to make of him. 

He'd flown to the Eyrie first to meet with Lady Jeyne Arryn and managed to garner her support through promises of protecting the Vale of Arryn with dragons, managed to sway the support of the Three Sisters in their favor through Lord Borrell, and arranged for Lord Desmond Manderly of the White Harbor's youngest daughter to one day wed little Joffery in exchange for his support. But what could he possibly offer Lord Cregan Stark to lessen the impact of his men undoubtedly dying once war finally began?

Jace had no younger sisters to offer as a potential bride to Rickon Stark; no lands or titles that could even amount to the lands of Winterfell and the title of Warden of the North; no dragons that'd be pleased to call the North home; no older female relatives to offer as the new Lady of Winterfell (and he certainly wouldn't wish to upset a Mormont); no riches or coin that'd be worth sending men to die. He had nothing to offer, nothing the lord would care for, at least. 

His fingers buttoned his white undershirt, his legs leading him toward the window to peer out to the ground below where he had a perfect view of the training grounds. Ser (Y/N) stood by below, his eyes closely watching the squires and boys given to him for training and lips contorted into a frown. He looked older in certain lights, more mature than the age Jace presumed him to be. His lips quirked when Ser (Y/N) smacked the back of one of the squires with his wooden sword, the exasperated expression on his face reminding him of all the times he practiced with Luke and had to scold the boy. 

His concerned, borderline anxious thoughts surrounding his host shifted, recalling the words Ser (Y/N) had spoken before he'd left. The Faith of the Seven viewed relations between those of the same sex to be a sin, something septas and maesters warned young children against. But Jace was no fool, nor was he blind or deaf. He'd heard plenty of rumors in court, seen lingering touches between a noblewoman and her favorite handmaiden or fleeting glances between a lord and his personal guard. His own father, Laenor Velaryon, had been said to enjoy the company of men over women; and looking back on his youth, Jace recalled the times he and Ser Qarl Correy often left together, smiling big and lovingly at each other.

Jace liked ladies, he'd be a fool not to with their beauty. But he'd be lying if he said he'd never looked at a lordling or knight and wondered what it'd be like to be with them. He often brushed those thoughts away and told himself it was simply admiration or envy but something in his heart had fluttered when he laid eyes on Lord Cregan and Ser (Y/N), something that blossomed when he witnessed the adoring exchange between the two. 

Lovers.

Ser (Y/N) had said it so proudly, so sure of himself. Jace wondered how many times his father had dreamt of declaring his love for Ser Qarl, dreamt of being himself publically without facing the scrutiny and denial of everyone around him. He wondered then, if the longing stares exchanged between his mother and Queen Alicent meant something other than a desire to rekindle a long-lost friendship. 

"Prince Jacaerys," He startled and turned away from the window, noticing Sara Snow lingering by the doorway. She smiled politely at him and entered the room, crossing the distance to stand beside him by the window as servants slipped in after her and drained the tub. The servants collected his discarded clothes and bowed before retreating, leaving the two in silence. Jace turned back to her and returned the smile with one of his own. 

Snow. A bastard of the North, yet treated as if she were a full-blooded Stark; perhaps because she looked so much like one with her shoulder-length raven hair and those pale blue eyes that resembled Lord Cregan's. Jace couldn't help the prickle of envy that slipped into his veins. If he'd been born resembling his mother over his real father, nobody would've questioned his parentage nor brought insult to his mother and brother. He'd spent so many years fighting to prove himself to everyone around him that he was Targaryen, that he was meant to be Crown Prince. Everything would've proved much easier if he and Luke had been born with those striking violet eyes and silver locks.

"I hope you're settling in well," Sara's gentle voice pulled him of out his thoughts. She glanced toward what'd captivated his attention moments prior, the corners of her mouth lifting knowingly. His skin warmed, though he couldn't pinpoint the reason why. "I know my brother and (Y/N) can seem... standoffish. They were both raised to be guarded and suspicious, but I can assure you, once they've grown used to you they'll be kinder." 

"I cannot fault them for their hesitance in welcoming me. I am the bearer of bad news; a symbol of war after so many years of peace." Jace straightened his shoulders and posture, clasping his hands behind his back as he spoke. He needed to be seen as princely as possible, needed to be someone worth paying attention to. "Lord Cregan's support would mean everything to us."

Her eyes crinkled and her head tilted to the side. There was a warmness to her presence that eased Jace into relaxation. "I could help you convince my brother as he does seek out my advice but (Y/N) is our master-at-arms and the one who trained many of our warriors in the past few years. He will need as much convincing as Cregan. The Starks have never broken an oath but it is better to have a willing commander over one who feels forced." 

"I agree." Jace nodded, his eyes flickering back down toward the figure below, hearing the muffled groan that escaped the knight when a squire slipped and fell. "And... how would you suggest someone goes about that? He hardly seemed keen on showing me around." Was keen the right word? Ser (Y/N) had seemed outright distraught at the idea. 

"How would you go about taming a bear?" The light, almost teasing tone in Sara's voice made him chuckle softly. "Cregan would know all about that, it seems. (Y/N) came here to Winterfell as a ward under our father many years ago. He and Cregan had been at odds then, bickering and fighting but under all that was the beginning of love."

"What of Lady Arra?" Jace asked. He'd heard how her death had brought much pain to Lord Cregan, how he'd mourned her for many months. Sara sighed softly at the mention and Jace winced, hoping he hadn't overstepped by asking.

"Cregan loved her as much as he loves (Y/N)," Sara told him softly, the glint in her eyes turning distant, her mind drifting back to the past. "Cregan was captivated by both of them, I remember. I was a child, hardly old enough to understand what was so charming about love, but even then I knew he cared for them both, even if (Y/N) occasionally brought out the worst in him. Arra forced them to become friends, for her sake, since she cared for them both. In the end, she brought them together both in life and death."

A comfortable silence settled over them, one that made Jace's thoughts flicker back to Baela. He cared for her, he had since they were mere children, but was it like the love between his father and Ser Qarl? The love between Ser (Y/N) and Lord Cregan? He hadn't minded when his mother announced her intent to marry them. He preferred an old friend over a stranger, and he certainly wouldn't mind having children with someone as passionate and caring as Baela. He believed he'd grow to love her, as many arranged couples eventually did, but what if his love for her remained... friendly?

"There'll be a feast in your honor later this evening. The boys should be in better moods by then." The boys. Jace almost snorted, his lips rolling into his mouth to prevent the noise. He wondered how long it took for little Sara to begin bossing them around, the image of her lecturing them as a child floating around in his mind.

"I look forward to learning more of the North." Jace smiled. 

Sara returned it, though it held a hint of both mischief and pity. "And I hope you're a heavy sleeper, My Prince." 

When dusk fell, the feast began with all kinds of lords, knights, ladies, and squires filling the Great Hall. A proper welcome to the North, if Jace had to admit, finding ale in his hand and delicious food on his plate that he happily ate. He spoke with those around him, his chest brimming with pride and relief whenever he enticed a hearty laugh from a northerner with a jest or a tale. They considered him a southerner, a boy prince who'd hardly fit in amongst the men who looked more like mountains and ladies who knew their way around axes. But with each laugh, grin, and approving nod, he cemented himself further amongst them. 

However, Lord Cregan and Ser (Y/N) paid him little mind, allowing the others around to keep him entertained. 

Jace watched them as he slowly ate some of his apple cake, the lovely flavor dancing on his tongue but his attention focused on the two despite the tale Russal, the castle's steward, recounted a tale of a hunt that had many leaning forward in anticipation. Jace had been among them until he'd caught sight of Ser (Y/N)'s vibrant and pleased grin at something his lover had said. 

He watched with softened eyes as a fussy Rickon finally ceased his whining once Ser (Y/N) took him into his arms, settling the boy on his leg and sparing the briefly distracted Lord Cregan a glance before he scooped some honey cake onto his spoon and offered it to the boy. Rickon wiggled with delight, his small hands grasping (Y/N)'s wrist as he eagerly ate, accidentally smearing frosting over his top lip and just below his nose. Lord Cregan turned back to them and arched a brow at the mess on his son's face, an amused smile stretching across his lips. 

"You know you mustn't have sweets before bed, Rickon." He gave his lover a knowing look, one that (Y/N) responded to with an innocent shrug. Rickon merely giggled and licked his lips, reaching for the spoon once more to lick it clean. He reminded Jace of Joffery, his little troublemaking brother who could sway anyone with just a few bats from his eyes and that toothy grin. Jace watched little Rickon, a longing for home forming in his heart once more. 

The table erupted in loud laughter that snapped Jace out of his thoughts, flickering his gaze toward Russal as the man drank some ale and took in the hearty laughs and cackles his story received. He smiled and chuckled, the laughter of northerners amusing by itself, and took another gulp of his ale. When his eyes slid back to the couple, he found Ser (Y/N) watching him and nearly choked on his ale, managing to cover up the coughs with wheezy chuckles. 

"Princeling," Ser (Y/N) pulled Rickon further against his chest so he could rest his chin on the boy's messy dark hair. The table largely quieted down, save for a few conversations here and there, most of the attention turning onto the prince and Ser (Y/N). Jace straightened his back instinctively with all eyes on him and gave him a nod to go on. "Tell us of dragons."

"Dagons!" Rickon cheered, drawing soft chuckles and coos from those around. 

"Well, uhm," Jace cleared his throat, his mind flickering back to all the lessons he'd received through the years, primarily on the histories of his family. "There are different tales on how dragons came to be. Those who came from Old Valryia claim dragons came from the Fourteen Flames but there are tales that dragons were brought forth through blood magic used on wyverns. Regardless, Valyrians tamed and rode them. It was said Valyrians themselves were descendants of the beasts and were kin with those they rode. Many believe a dragon will accept anyone of Valyrian blood but it is simply not true. A rider does not choose its dragon, the dragon chooses its rider. They will not allow anyone else to ride them for as long as their rider lives and breathes."

"Your dragon chose you, then? It looks quite young." Ser (Y/N) tilted his head. Jace wondered what tales were told in the North about dragons, about his family. Lord Alaric Stark had hosted King Jaehaerys Targaryen and Queen Alysanne Targaryen at Winterfell once many years prior, surely leaving a good enough impression for things to remain amiable between the families. Jace could only hope to leave the same impression.

"The tradition started by Rhaena Targaryen where eggs are placed in the cradle of Targaryen babes allows for a bond to form in youth. Vermax hatched in my cradle so we were raised together as... brothers, in a way. The bond between a dragonrider and their dragon runs deep. It is said a dragon may feel everything its rider feels. They may grow restless when their rider falls ill or is gravely injured." Jace couldn't help the burst of pride in his chest at the curiosity and intrigue in the eyes of those around him. Velaryon blood never ran through his veins but it hadn't made him any less of a Targaryen.

"Interesting." Ser (Y/N) said flatly, and the pride died a little. 

By the time night properly fell, the buzz in Jace's veins had been undeniable. Northerners liked their drinks strong, and Jace had never been one to back down when faced with challenging smirks and glints. Drinking their ale and beer had earned him many burning claps on his back and shoulders but as he stumbled through the halls and toward his bedchambers, he wondered if perhaps he should've paced himself. He almost tripped over his own foot and gave a soft giggle at his clumsiness before his eyes shifted to the streak of light pouring from a cracked open door. Against his better judgment, he approached it like a moth to a flame and raised his head to peek into the room.

"Byran thinks we ought to do a hunt soon. The hounds have grown restless, says they could use the exercise." He found Ser (Y/N) first, the many layers of clothing he'd once worn gone, leaving him in loose beige-colored sleepwear. The knight tilted his head up toward his lover, the warm candlelight and peaceful look on his face chipping away at the slight fear that'd gripped Jace's gut when he'd first seen him. 

"Aye," Lord Cregan responded, and Jace's face warmed when he raked his gaze over his muscular back and strong-looking arms, a shirt pinched in his hands before the lord tossed it aside. His chest and pudgy stomach were covered in dark hairs, ones that Jace tracked until they disappeared beneath his pants. "We could take the princeling, then. Show him how the North works."

"And how does the North work, love?" Jace's veins bubbled when he heard Ser (Y/N)'s light laughter, when he watched Lord Cregan take a seat at the edge of the bed while Ser (Y/N) slid up behind him. His fingers dipped into Lord Cregan's hair, brushing and pulling back his dark strands gently, a gentleness he hadn't given those he'd been training. Ser (Y/N) tied his lover's hair back into a bun, some shorter strands slipping out and framing Lord Cregan's face. 

"The North is... full of surprises." The older man murmured, tilting his head back and ghosting his lips over Ser (Y/N)'s cheek as the knight's arms wrapped around his broad shoulders. When their lips connected, Jace's stomach flipped with a new feeling of longing, surprised by the warmth and sweetness of the kiss. 

Lord Cregan's body tiled and his arm moved, sliding around his lover's waist and dragging him onto his lap. Laughter and giggles freely fell from Ser (Y/N)'s lips, a wide smile on his face as he settled happily across Lord Cregan's thighs. They stared at each other, lips curled upward and eyes crinkled with delight before Lord Cregan pressed a kiss to Ser (Y/N)'s forehead and murmured something in his ear. When Lord Cregan's hand dipped into the knight's pants, Jace jerked back, a violent heat darting up his spine and spreading through his veins. 

Despite his drunken mind, he staggered away from the door and toward his bedchambers, tossing the door open and slamming it shut behind him. His back pressed against the wood when his legs grew too wobbly to keep him up without help, a shaky exhale escaping him. It was hard to pinpoint what swirled around so violently in his stomach; too many emotions threatening to swallow him whole in a single gulp. He felt them prickling along his back. 

Desire, want, longing, mortification, embarrassment. 

He was the Crown Prince, Seven Hells! It was entirely unprincely to act no better than a peeping tom, even if the coils around his stomach and heart yearned to be under such an adoring gaze and needy hands. Jace groaned and brought a hand to his face, pushing himself off the door and stumbling toward the blanket and fur covered bed where he collapsed. He buried his face into one of the furs, feeling the soft strands brush against his skin soothingly. He prayed they hadn't taken notice, hadn't realized he'd been watching. 

He was a guest in their home. A temporary guest who'd leave once he ensured he'd secured the North's loyalty and support... even if he had to withhold from indulging in his growing curiosity.

[themotherofhorses]

Hiiii wanted to request Dark Aemond x Mermaid reader.

Reader is from house Manderly [ their flag had a merman in it ] and Aemond finds our her secret so he blackmails her father into marrying her.

Also some smut too maybe breeding kink of sorts.

even the whales fall prey to men.

pairing: dark!aemond targaryen x fem!mermaid!reader

warnings: very much nsfw. explicit language. blackmailing on aemond's part. forced marriage. dubcon. breeding kink. allusions to violence and death. mentions of pregnancy.

notes: dark & obsessive!aemond targaryen makes my head go brrr. also this smut will totally suck and i take full responsibility for it.

masterlist

The sea is much colder than usual, and across the winter sky hangs a thick blanket of clouds, dark as smoke.

It will snow soon, your mother had said at breakfast, bundled up in all her warm furs while you broke fast together. Today may be the last day we are able to swim for a while, so do make your peace and say all your goodbyes to your grandfather.

You sit on the jagged rocks that stand strong in the waters, watching as your mother and sisters finish with their own wreaths. Yours lays draped across your lap, weaved from rosemary and sea kale and the pretty blackthorn that bloomed on the nearby cliffs. The whales were making one final visit to White Harbor before leaving for warmer waters, and it was tradition to see them goodbye, and to flower them with the newly made wreathes and long garlands. It would not be until the early summer months that they would return.

“Little fish,” your mother calls out for you, already knee-high deep in the bitter sea waters. Your sisters did not wait for neither you nor her, deciding on a small race between each other. “Lost in thought, my little love?” Her face is soft and sweet, with two dimples on both cheeks, “Come or we’ll miss them!”

You were born a Manderly, under the cold moon, on the White Knife. On your first nameday, a great storm wailed outside the New Castle, crushing your lord father’s fleet to kindle and drowning the port city. Some said it was the Stranger waging war against the Father and the Warrior, high in the heavens, while others claimed the old sea god Caraxes was celebrating the birth of a new granddaughter.

Your father claimed direct descendance from the First Men, while your mother was of the true goldenblood of Old Valyria, a daughter of Caraxes himself. His mermaids, women with silver crowns and dark violet eyes and a fish’s tail for legs. The seamen swore you existed, but the rest of Westeros refused to believe.

Perhaps that was why you never strayed far from the White Knife, and from your mother’s side too.

Then again, your lady mother never faltered in warning you and your elder sisters of the myriad of dangers that came with your blood, and of people finding out the truth of such. She was a protective woman, prideful and beautiful, and a great warrior too. The magic she practiced since girlhood allowed for her to shift her appearances, and when you grew of age, she taught you the different spells and rituals, the small incantations to mumble under your breath, and the ways of honoring your grandfather.  

“Be smart about it,” she cautioned, though not sternly. With a gentle palm resting over your cheekbone, she kissed the tip of your nose, smiling down at you, “always be mindful of one’s eyes and ears, my little one. The whales know no true safety, not even in their own home.”

Oh, how you wish to go back and believe her words a little more

It came as a great surprise that, while you were gone, your lord father had welcomed in a guest.

You had not been made aware of such, and neither was your mother, who took it as quite the insult. She immediately sent you and your sisters to your personal chambers, to wash up from the heavy sea salt that clung to your skin and hair, and to dress nicely. “The blue velvet, please,” she said, with a smile that did not reach her purple eyes. “We must look our best.” You had not the slightest clue of who the guest might be, and you ask your eldest sister if she caught a whisper. But she just shrugs. “A Stark, maybe? Or perhaps a Baratheon.”

“But what would they want with us?”

“Maybe a marriage pact is finally being proposed between our houses,” she replies with a sigh, a stupid lovesick grin twisting on her pink lips. She is a maiden of twenty and two, tall and slender and beautiful like your mother, and beyond ready to become a lord’s wife. You make a face at that but say nothing more. Would your mother even allow for that to happen? Perhaps for your sisters, but not for you.

You were still too young, a pretty daylily not yet ready for plucking.

In the Merman’s Court, you find your mother pacing by the castle’s throne, biting at her nails. She looks nervous, with eyes darting between the doors and the households that stood around the hall, cloaked in wools of blue and green. When she finally takes notice of your presence, she drops her hand and draws you into a hug. “Little fish,” and she studies you over, at how you brushed out your silver hair till it shone, and wore your nicest silks. “Very pretty, my little one. Very pretty, indeed.”

You remain by her side, clutching tightly her hand as your sisters soon step inside the hall, all clad in their prettiest gowns, in bright colors of green and navy and white, and giggling amongst themselves. Then come the court ladies and lords, the few maesters that lived in the New Castle, and your father, the Lord Manderly, followed by-

“Prince Aemond of the House Targaryen, son of King Viserys II and the Queen Alicent.”

Your eyes grow wide at the sight of Aemond One Eye, and you subtly shift closer to your mother. He was terribly handsome, you think, shrouded in black riding leather and a long cape that pooled around his dark boots. At his waist hangs a sheathed long-sword. Both his hands are tucked behind his back, shoulders straight and proud, and he wears a smirk. And his hair, every bit the same silver as yours, long and straight and neatly combed.

“Ah, Prince Aemond,” your mother greets. She curtsies, low and graceful to her knees, and you do the same. “Your visit is quite the unexpected one, but we welcome you into our home. Is White Harbor to your liking, my prince?”

He hums. “There are many seamen that dock themselves at King’s Landing, and almost all of them have spoken of the White Harbor, and the beauty that it possesses, particularly during these winter months.” His voice is deep, almost a purr, with a crownlands accent. “Although, my lady, now I cannot help but wonder if your daughters are the reason for that.”

Your mother clicks her tongue, and ever so slightly her eyes narrow. “You honor me, my prince,” she said, “and my daughters.”

Prince Aemond grins at that.

It was your father who spoke next. “My love, the Prince Aemond has arrived with a most equitable offer from the King and Queen themselves.” He sounds quite proud, and incredibly happy at whatever that offer might be. “They are asking for an alliance to be made between our house and House Targaryen,” but he pauses, holding his gaze on your mother, “-through marriage. Prince Aemond is here to choose one of our daughters to wed.”

Your face snaps to your mother, who stood speechless.

“Our eldest is twenty and two, and a fine lady,” your father adds, nodding to your sisters that stood to your left, “and our second-born daughter just celebrated her twentieth nameday. She has no current betrothed, though she is not without suitors, of course.” Your mother holds her tongue, it seemed, choosing to keep you tucked by her side.

But Prince Aemond shakes his head. “Your two daughters are very beautiful, Lord Manderly, I speak nothing but the truth with that, but I have no interest in having their hands,” he says, before focusing his one eye on you. “It is your youngest I wish to have.”

Your mind goes blank.

“My youngest?” Your father sputters. “Forgive me for my words, my prince, but we have not planned to wed her off yet.”

Aemond shrugs. “I do not care about that; it is she who I desire the most.” He looks at your father, tilting his head, sounding curious, “Did you not promise to me any choice of your daughters, for an alliance with my family?” Lord Manderly appears nervous now, and embarrassed as well, with cheeks and a forehead flushing a bright pink. “Well…I suppose so…”

“Mama?” you whisper, tucking yourself behind her. Your fingers tremble greatly, and it soon feels too difficult to breathe. You could feel your sisters’ eyes on you, along with your father’s and the eyes of the many court lords and ladies, and the household guards too. They all feel too judgemental, pitiful and sympathetic. But your mother, she fought back. “No,” she says, loudly. “No, you shall not have her.”

“You deny your own prince?” Aemond asks, incredulous. “Such boldness, my Lady Manderly. But alas, I came to retrieve my bride, and I shall leave with her, make no mistake in believing that.”

“No,” your mother repeats, much louder than the first. Her voice, strong and willful, echoes across the Merman’s Court, sounding every much a crack of thunder, or perhaps even a roar of a she-dragon. “She is still too young, my prince, you must understand that. I will not be separated from my youngest, she is not ready to become a wife-”

“She has celebrated her eighteenth nameday, has she not?” Your mother stays silent, and Aemond grins. “She is well old enough to be my wife.”  

Your mother shakes her head. “Please, you can have my two other daughters, but not her. I refuse it! I refuse it!” She turns to your father, “My love, see with reason! She is not ready! The ocean still needs her, I still need her! Refuse it! I will not allow it! No, I will not-” But Prince Aemond cuts her off, “Refuse it?” He laughs, and you flinch at it.

“You have no power to do such a thing, least you wish to die of treason, a bloody traitor to your crown. To your King and Queen!”

He takes a step forwards, to you and your mother. “I know you, Lady Manderly,” he says, slowly, carefully, as if approaching a wild forest beast, “I know the sort of mother you are. It is very honorable, very admirable, and I thank you, from the bottom of my own heart, for raising my new bride well. But I also know you are very protective of them, and I understand.” Prince Aemond then leans his face close, until his lips linger over your mother’s ear, “-after all, dangers do tend to follow the daughters of Caraxes, do they not? And his granddaughters too. His pretty mermaids.”

He pulls back, a dark grin curling on his lips, his tone seeping in false concern. “What might happen if the world found out the truth of you? And your daughters? How you are not just liars, but neither full humans as well. The creatures the seamen lust after, alive and flourishing on the White Knife…”

Prince Aemond then peers at you from where you stood, his face softening. You timidly meet his eye. “Come, my lady, allow me a better look at you.” You swallow but do as he asked, moving to stand in front of him. “Look at you, a vision of pure beauty. You are so much lovelier than what I imagined when coming here,” and you could not figure out what hurts more: his grip on your upper arm, or the way your mother did nothing.

When you turn to glance back at your lady mother, she looks more a stranger than the woman you knew- weak and humiliated and defeated, almost in tears. It reminds you of something she told you, so many moons ago, back on the beachside. There was a dead whale carcass, fat and bloated, drifting back and forth in the harbor. In its side was buried a harpoon. Your mother shook her head at the sight.

“Even the whales fall prey to men.”

Five days later, Aemond One Eye claims you as his wife.

He allows the wedding to partake on the beach, alongside the ocean where you grew up and loved so dearly. Your mother had pleaded with him to agree on his part to wed you in the customs of Old Valyria, and he could not say no.

I, too, am of the blood of Old Valyria, he said, quite proudly. It will be an honor to both our ancestors, may they bear down on us as we continue our bloodline.

But afterward, he was quick to whisk you away to King’s Landing, to the Red Keep where he swore you rightfully belonged. You only caught a short glimpse of the Queen Alicent Hightower and her father, the Hand, before you were locked you in his royal chambers. And now, you lay across his bed, a flood of whimpers and moans spilling from your pink lips as he squashes his face only deeper between your thighs. “You have the sweetest cunt,” he groans, sucking on your clit as your head thrashes around, and your hips buck against his mouth.

“I knew I had to have you,” he says, while running his tongue along your wet folds. Your taste, it is like no other, and he swears himself a new and addicted man. He will spend the rest of his days worshipping you if the gods allow it. “The moment I saw you, you were mine. The gods could not even deny me of you. Your lips, my sweet girl, they looked so sweet, and I wondered if your cunt would be the same.”

Both your breasts sit in his hands, and he palms at them, sliding his face up to yours, peppering kiss after kiss across your hipbones and stomach. You are so beautiful, he thinks, while pressing his face against your belly. It should be a sin that you are not with child. “I cannot wait till our firstborn sleeps here,” he mumbles, kissing it, “I will make you the most beautiful mother known to the world, and men will envy me for the rest of their damned days.”

His words make you whimper, chewing on your bottom lip as his mouth soon hovers over yours. “Tell me you want my seed,” he demands in a whisper, gripping your chin between his fingers. “Tell me how bad you need it…and I promise you, my love, you will have it.”

“Please…”

His eyebrow raises, and he chuckles. “Please, what?”

He wishes for you to beg for him- for his seed and his love and soul, to plead with him for everything, to come undone and submit yourself- as his woman and wife and the mother of his children.

But you shy away, choosing to hide your face within the pillows, a bit too embarrassed to answer him properly. It is cute until Aemond grows too impatient. His craving for you spanned over too many moons, ever since he took first sight of you swimming in the waters of the White Knife. He toasts to both the Mother and the Maiden, perhaps even the Crone, that you never saw Vhagar flying in the sky above.

“It does not matter,” he says, kissing your forehead softly before moving to your lips. The kiss leaves you breathless, trembling and hungry for more. He flings your legs over his waist, pulling you down to where you lay completely underneath him, “I do not need your permission to seed my wife, and to make her a mother,” and against your lips, he mumbles, “you belong to me, do you understand? You are mine, from this day till the end.” And within a minute, his cock is stuffed deep inside you.

“It is too big…!” you cry, grasping onto his shoulders as he fucks you hard and deep, his thrusts seeming too unforgiving.

Perhaps he is punishing you, though you had not the smallest idea as to why.

“Please! Please, husband- please, slow down!” You bounce beneath him, fingers finding your own nipples as you twist and tweak them. It felt right in the moment, having remembered him doing it only several minutes ago.

“I do not give a shit,” he grunts, his hands resting on your hips, “you were fucking made for me. This body was made for my seed, for my children, now you will take it.” Sweat beads along his forehead as he moans and grunts some more and whines, feeling the way your cunt tightens around his cock. It is perfection, a feeling that was made just for him. “You have evaded my hands for too fucking long, now you suffer the consequences.”

You feel as if your eyes might roll to the back of your skull. Your pants are heavy and hot, and you cannot help the shriek when his fingers pinch your clit, before rubbing his thumb over it. He laughs, quickening his thrusts. “And to think, your mother would have kept this from me, kept you away from me. Ah, should I speak to you the truth, my love?” It is a cruel taunt, as you cannot answer, too overtaken by this pleasure. “I would have burned the White Harbor to the ground if I was denied you. Burned your entire fucking family to ashes if they dared keep you from me. House Strong has gone extinct because of me, maybe they will come up with a new nickname for that. Aemond Targaryen, kinslayer. Aemond Targaryen, house-destroyer.”

He shakes his head, snickering, “No, those are too silly, are they not, my love?”

Your face twists up, all in utter pleasure, and your body tightens too as you cream all over his cock. Soon after, he fills you with his cum, so much it trickles down from your cunt, staining the bedsheets along with your blood. But Aemond is quick to gather it with his fingertip, though, and shove it back in you. “Every bit of it matters, my lady, especially if we wish for you be with child by the next moon.” You try to smile, but you are so exhausted and ruined and all you yearn for is sleep.

“Did…did I do good?” you breathe.

Aemond smiles, and kisses your lips, soft and sweet and loving. He strokes your hair, twirling a silver strand around his finger. You are gorgeous, his beautiful wife, this sweet granddaughter of Caraxes. All his. You and the babe that you will carry soon.

“You did perfect, my little fish.”

[15-lizards]

What are your thoughts on Northern fashion? You mentioned in an early post that it would be different depending on the location, can you elaborate on that? I also feel like the style changed soon after Catelyn married Ned, since she would bring styles from the Riverlands and Winterfell is the King's Landing of the North when it comes to fashion

Let’s goooo 🏃🏻‍♀️

Starting in the Neck, they would definitely be more like the riverlanders in terms of clothing. It’s a fairly similar wet and muggy climate. Everything is mostly made of wool and hemp and linen. Thinner clothes for the muggy summers and warmer, thicker ones for when winter comes. Leather/animal skin shoes to keep the mud off. Also whenever I imagine the Crannogmen I imagine cloaks and hoods to stay dry in the swamps. So lots of those.

To the East and a bit father to the north, that costal area around White Harbor is colder than the Neck. So theres a lot more layers, and clothing it way thicker. Also the Manderlys are dripped tf out they got that White Harbor money. Wyman has fur lined EVERYTHING his damask coats could put Cerseis to shame. Wylla and Wynafred pull up to the Sept with lace and silk and jewels eating all the other bitches up. Also since they follow the Faith and are originally southern, this area probably follows more southern customs (fabrics, headpieces, etc)

And we finally make it to winterfell 🤸🏻‍♀️At this point everyone’s freezing their tits off, so fur lined everything. Indoors, I think they can wear lighter stuff bc of those hot springs. Even in the spring months, you can catch Cat wearing at least one shift, underdress, overdress, AND a jacket bc I feel like she never acclimated to the cold. Lots of leather and wool for everyday wear, but when Ned throws a feast or something they get to wear more fur and velvet (even Jon gets to wear a nice velvet surcoat, as a treat). Since the Starks are bordering on ascetic sometimes, there isn’t a ton of ornamentation, but Sansa likes to wear southern-ish styles as much as she can, so you can frequently find her wearing clothes from white harbor (aka I want to see Sansa in a kokoshnik)

And then even farther north we start to see Bolton and Umber territory. The conditions are even more brutal than at Winterfell and they don’t even have hot springs :/ like Sansa and Arya could probably get away with not having to cover their ears during warmer days, but the girls of last hearth and the dreadfort have no warm days. At this point clothing becomes a bit bulky and harder to move around in. Dresses are lined stiffly and almost drag the floor, and everyone is always bundled up to the neck. However materials and fabrics are cohesive and nice atp.

And by the time we nearly reach the wall, conditions are almost unbearable during the winter. Even during spring, all the villagers in the gift are wearing at least four layers (bc I hate hate hate how the show made the people at and around the wall just chill in a thin jacket when they were near a gargantuan frozen block of ice). Clothing is a lot less structured here, resources are getting sparse so most people stitch together a patchwork of whatever furs they can get their hands on. You will rarely see a person without a big hood or thick gloves on. And even though they aren’t wildlings, you can probably see a lot of animal head hoods, bc these people do NOT waste any part of the animal

[lovedreamer11]

Guys, now we're going to laugh. I've seen some debate online regarding how Jaehaerys would feel about Alicent and Viserys marrying. Some people write quite persistently that Jaehaerys would have approved of such a marriage and in general he loved Alicent like a daughter, and even more than his real daughters.

Firstly, about that Jaehaerys mistook Alicent for his daughter. Jaeherys had senile dementia and he no longer recognized the people around him. Anyone could have been on Alicent place; Jaehaerys still confused someone else with Saera.

Secondly, let's look at marriages among the descendants of Jaehaerys. Initially, he planned to betroth his heir Aemon to Daenerys, and after her death to Alyssa. And he really would have done it if not for Alysanne's intervention. As a result, Jaehaerys approved the marriage of his heir to Lord Baratheon's sister, who was half Velaryon from her mother side. There is no need to write about Baelon and Alyssa. Before Vaegon was sent to the Citadel, Jaehaerys did not consider any other candidates for the role of Vaegon's wife, except for one of his sisters. Daella married Lord Arryn. Of the three young men from Saera's inner circle, two were heirs, and one was a young lord. If the king had never found out what his daughter was doing, he would have allowed Saera to marry one of these young men. Viserra was betrothed to Lord Manderly. Rhaenys married Lord Velaryon, and Viserys's wife was the daughter of Lord Arryn, and she was half Targaryen. Daemon married a woman without Valyrian blood, but Rhea was the only heir to the Runestone and had a large dowry.

And now we are to believe that Jaehaerys would approve of the king's marriage to Alicent, a woman without Valyrian blood, the niece of a lord, the daughter of a landless knight, who are completely dependent on the will of Lord Hightower? Not to mention that Laena Velaryon exists. Great-granddaughter of Jaehaerys, rider of the oldest and largest dragon in the world, daughter of Lord Velaryon, whose mother and brother are also dragonriders. A marriage between Viserys and Laena would unite the bloodlines of Jaehaerys' favorite sons, Aemon and Baelon.

Jaehaerys would never have approved of Viserys' marriage to Alicent, given the fact that the marriage produced a sullen and lustful slacker, a stupid and hot-tempered psychopath (who was a cheap version of Maegor), and a "gentle", "polite" and "daring" terrorist and war criminal.

[beyondmistland]

In your opinion, would Princess Viserra's fate have changed if she had been promised to Lord Manderly's heir, and not to him?

That is to say, if marriage to the Manderlys were necessary to formalize a pact with the North, perhaps a handsome husband of the same age who would make her Lady of White Harbor would be more interesting to the young princess.

I won't hold back. NOTHING about Viserra's storyline makes any sense short of all the characters having a stroke.

Perceptive and compassionate Alysanne, who previously demonstrated considerable matchmaking skills, suddenly becomes very bad at it. (Don't get me started on Elio Garcia's attempt to defend Alysanne's OOC behavior as her being jealous of her own daughter's beauty.)

Jaehaerys suddenly becomes an absentee father from the 1950s rather than, you know, a medieval king for whom his daughter's marriage is of the utmost political importance.

Septon Barth? Grand Maester Elysar? Both MIA.

Theomore Manderly? If he was truly canny, he would have seen the offer for what it was and declined it.

Its true, the best way to tie the North closer to the south (and more specifically the Iron Throne) short of House Stark is House Manderly. However, marrying Viserra, a princess (and the prettiest one at that) to Theomore entirely defeats that purpose. One, a fat man old enough to be your grandfather is hardly appealing on a personal level, especially to a teen princess who knows just how attractive she is. Two, any children Viserra had would come behind four wives' worth of stepchildren, practically guaranteeing that the future Lords of White Harbor won't share any direct blood ties to House Targaryen, which brings me to my third point. Marrying Viserra to Theomore more or less dooms Viserra's line to obscurity and she herself to a life of dependency on the charity of her stepson.

What, then, would have made way more sense? Marrying her to Desmond, who, as Theomore's great-grandson, would probably be fairly close in age to her, not to mention higher in the succession.

Now, to answer your question, yes I absolutely do believe Viserra might have lived a longer (and perhaps even fulfilling) life if her parents had picked someone other than Theomore Manderly to be her husband. Remember, the whole reason she was even out and about the night of her death was because she wanted to have fun one last time before resigning herself to her fate. If she had instead been looking forward to her wedding she wouldn't have had any incentive to sneak out, which makes the chances of her suffering a tragic accident the way she did in OTL astronomically lower.

Thanks for the question, @diegoedil

[agentrouka-blog]

loving how you ignore how aria and danny flint are family, this would concluded with daenerys and arya eventually becoming family

Jon Snow and all the Stark children are descended from Arya Flint of the Mountains, a potential distant cousin of Danny Flint. Jon is Dany's biological family, her nephew. In this way, yes, Arya is totally related to her cousin's aunt! Good observation.

Otherwise, I'm not exactly "ignoring" this piece of information so much as I don't assign it the kind of significance you seem to.

As a story, Danny Flint is extremely tragic but the element of assuming a man's role and being horrifically punished for it more closely relate to the dangerous journeys of "Arry" in the Night's Watch trek with Yoren or Brienne as a "warrior maid". There's even a touch of Quentyn Martell, who thought that acting out an adventure story would somehow protect him from the kind of grisly cruel fate that is common in their world. Not to mention Jeyne Poole, who made to disguise herself in a role that will see her brutalized as well. Wyman Manderly very cynically refers to this song during her wedding.

There's Alleras/Sarella, who uses the same ploy in the Citadel, though likely to a less horrid end.

If the name Danny Flint (a stone used in firemaking) is to be significant to Dany, it may relate to Maester Aemon's speech about the changeable sex of dragons, their misguided search for a Prince of prophecy over a Princess, and a tragic ending of a different nature.

But that's just my opinion.

[goodqueenaly]

Forgive me if you’ve addressed this before over the years. You’ve covered a lot.

As far as is know, is Betha the only Queen of the Seven Kingdoms to, based on her familial background and upbringing, likely keep the Old Gods? If so, do you imagine this was a factor raised at the Great Council by lords aligned strongly with the Faith against Aegon?

That’s actually a great question, and one I haven’t considered! 

Yes, as far as we’re aware, no other queens during the Targaryen kingdom in Westeros (and obviously not under the Baratheon dynasty either) worshipped or otherwise honored the old gods. (This conclusion obviously does not count de facto crown princess Sansa, of course.) Granted, we know very little about the personal piety of virtually any of the Targaryen queens (Betha included); Naerys, and to a much lesser extent Alysanne and Aelinor Penrose, represent pretty much the only queens about whom GRRM has given any insight regarding their personal religious feelings. However, given that there were no queens from the North, nor any other Houses (besides House Blackwood) which are specifically noted to worship the old gods elsewhere (of which House Blackwood is really the only certain one anyway), I think it’s fair to say that none of the other Targaryen-era queens worshiped the old gods. 

Whether Betha’s religious feelings (real or presumed) would have factored into the debates at the Great Council of 233 AC and even beyond … maybe. Certainly, Westerosi politics historically has been no stranger (no pun intended) to criticisms of religiously unorthodox figures and their supposedly negative influences, from Lelia Lannister during the Hoare dynasty on the Iron Islands to Larra Rogare during the Lysene Spring under Aegon III (and indeed, I’ve suggested such criticisms may have been leveled against Jeyne Manderly, wife and perhaps widow of Rickon Stark). Too, according to Yandel, that “most outspoken of [Aegon V’s] foes” specifically referred to the “gods-given rights and liberties” of which the king allegedly sought to deprive his vassals; however, the quote does not mention which “gods”, old or new (or both), to which the speaker referred, nor the source of the complaint, leaving the potential religious context to the issue unclear. We also do not have a strong understanding of the relationship between the Faith and the crown in 233 AC (or, indeed, during Aegon V’s reign afterward), although there certainly had already been intriguing intersections between the two entities: consider, say, the High Septon under Daeron II, who used the Faith's prejudice against bastards to explain and criticize the rebellion of Daemon Blackfyre, or the nameless septon who used specifically theological arguments to denounce Bloodraven (and was executed for doing as much), or even my speculation on the installation of the office of High Septon permanently in King’s Landing (in its Avignon-esque exile from Oldtown). More directly, the fact that the High Septon of 233 AC was willing to absolve Aemon of his maester’s vows so that Aemon could become king might, perhaps, suggest a desire on the part of the Faith to support the surviving son of Maekar who had no troublesome ties to the old gods, rather than the son whose wife worshiped those strange and ancient gods. 

Again, none of this is explicit canonical evidence, but all of these ideas and suggestions may indicate that Betha’s familial religion was used as an argument against Aegon V’s kingship , at the time of the Great Council and/or during his reign. How could Prince Aegon be trusted as a prospective defender of the Faith, so the argument might have gone, when his own queen worshiped god who were, to borrow Yandel’s phrase when describing the Andal Invasion, “little more than demons”? How could the Faith support the succession princes who may well, so these Faithful might have feared, have been raised to worship those same old gods, and been encouraged by their no-good-very-bad mother to turn away from the light of the Seven? Would Betha have been assumed to share the penchant for sorcery and evil popularly associated with that other Blackwood-blooded old gods worshiper, Brynden Rivers? For those perhaps already inclined to distrust the hedge knight-trained "half a peasant" Prince Aegon, the fact that the prince's wife and the mother of his heirs worshiped gods other than the Seven might have been useful ammunition in their arguments against his accession, or during his reign afterward.

[atopvisenyashill]

im gonna finish adwd by the new year dammit

decided to start with davos chapters because FOR ME a davos chapter never misses (yall just have bad taste, sorry to say). gonna do this more like my got liveblogs, so this will probably be long because it’s all four davos chapters.

tldr of my thoughts on davos' adwd arc is:

davos is the common folk's superhero

manderly is RIGHT why is everyone discounting him as a loyal northerner when THEY MURDERED HIS SON MY GOD these people are asking to get baked into a pie

i am so so curious about the manderly family dynamics. i desperately want a longer and more intimate peek into that family!

wex pyke is iconic!!!!!

He had a sort of webbing between the three middle fingers of his right hand. Davos had heard that some of the lords of the Three Sisters had webbed hands and feet, but he had always put that down as just another sailor’s story.

love little details like this that really ground this story as a fantasy world!! just a trio of islands with people who still got webbing in their hands!!! i know this happens irl but usually that less "webbing between fingers" and more "fingers fused together" type thing - these people just have like, mermaid hands!

Those fingers do not lie. You are the onion knight.

they say this like he's batman omg THE COMMON PEOPLE'S HERO THE ONION KNIGHT

The galleys Oledo and Old Mother’s Son had been driven onto the rocks of Skagos, the isle of unicorns and cannibals where even the Blind Bastard had feared to land

RICKON AND SKAGOS MENTION

Part 30 in the epic love triangle of Salla, Stannis, and Davos, where Sallador begs Davos to come south with him and Davos refuses, going on his fool's errand to help win the North to Stannis' cause. Truly, whom else is giving me gay middle aged drama like this.

SISTER'S STEW. Damn I'm very hungry right now too.

The Manderlys are no northmen, not down deep.

CAREFUL MAN. I ENJOY YOU BUT BE CAREFUL SHIT TALKING THE MANDERLYS LIKE THIS.

It's funny that they say the Manderlys only came to the North "900 years ago" but you wouldn't say that Dorne isn't part Rhoynish just because the Rhoynar only came 1000 years ago. Like a hundred years isn't that much of a difference to discount the loyalty the Manderlys may have to the Starks!

The fisherman drowned, but his daughter got Stark to the Sisters before the boat went down. They say he left her with a bag of silver and a bastard in her belly. Jon Snow, she named him, after Arryn.

JON SNOW BABY THEORY. I know it's not true but I do wonder what happened to the fisherman's daughter that helped him. Did she have a bastard of someone else's? Was it just a rumor and her identity has long been forgotten, if she ever hears rumors about who jon’s mother is, what she thinks of them.

In this world only winter is certain. We may lose our heads it's true...but what if we prevail?

fuck i love ned so much

next chapter starts with a little tour of White Harbor, which is fun, getting to see a lot of the war refugees (bet Wyman feels stupid as fuck for leaving Lady Hornwood to die and not helping her escape Ramsay when he had the chance, Wyman you fucking jag off), then Davos just broods alone like "what am i meant for" FOR BEING A KING'S HAND YOU'RE JUST SERVING THE WRONG KING RIGHT NOW IT'S FINE YOUR KING IS STILL TURNING INTO A TREE BUT HE'LL BE BACK SOON

a slave revolt was raging in the east

DANYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

it’s interesting how “the last targaryen hatched dragons” and “there’s been several slave revolts” aren’t always connected as stories. probably just a comment on how slow news travels and how long the game of telephone going on is. i also love how when the men are talking about the targaryens that were in robert’s rebellion, a woman speaks up to be like “there was a girl too wasn’t there” AND she knows all about daena the defiant, very cute to me.

Robett Glover was in the city and had been trying to raise men, with little success. Lord Manderly had turned a deaf ear to his pleas. The Ryswells and the Dustins had surprised the ironmen on the Fever River and put their longships to the torch. And now the Bastard of Bolton was riding south with Hother Umber to join them for an attack on Moat Cailin. Some Hornwood men have joined them, and Cerwyns too. Ser Wylis, though, he's still a captive

just tracking northmen movements here

i love that the sloe eyed maid shows up all the way back in acok in a dany chapter, then we get to see what happened to it in a davos chapter all the way in adwd. once again, makes the world feel so connected, and the fact that it's davos, who understands the very specific pain of taking the risk to sail all the way to the east, only to die being tricked by a light in the Sisters......it's so good.

The knight wore silver armor, his greaves and gauntlet inlaid with niello to suggest flowing fronds of seaweed. The helm beneath his arm was the head of the merling king, with a crown of mother-of-pearl and a jutting beard of jet and jade.

the fact that the northerners never got any fit as sexy as they do in the books.....d&d when i catch you in these streets!!!

i forgot how infuriating that "robb actually killed all his own men by turning into a wolf" story is omg, the freys do have one thing and that's the AUDACITY because JEEZ the way they just keep going and going when even davos who doesn't know these people is like "hmmm wyman looks a little pissed off"

i am curious.....idk......robb turned into a wolf and murdered all his own men......sansa killed the king then turned into a bat and flew away...........am i cooking here?

i'm so interested in whether wynafryd is treated as heir apparent by wyman. wyman says she’s in on the plan, yet neither her sister nor mother are. this feels like a HUGE responsibility and secret he’s shared with her.

Davos asking for a book so he can keep at his reading...my heart...the little librarian in me started crying omg

king hon stark name drop…..the wolf den raised to defend against raiders….

I rose up from flea bottom to be a king’s hand and I learned how to read and write.

i’m sorry…..i’m crying again…..he learned how to read and write, on part with being the hand of the king….slight personal story but my great uncle dropped out of school in 6th grade to sell newspapers (he wasn’t a newsie, his dad has a truck, they did it together, which sounds slightly less like a dickens novel) but anyways he had very poor reading and writing skills and idk it’s just always something that gets to me about davos, that the reading is what he holds so dear, as dear as stannis’ favor!

PICTURE ME SCREAMING “ROBBEEEEEEEEEEEETT” AND RIPPING MY SHIRT OFF. NORTHERN POLITICS LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

i had to calm down i was so excited i was doing that thing where your eyes keep jumping down the page so you’re mixing up you’re reading.

They crossed the castle’s godswood, where the heart tree had grown so huge and tangled that it had choked out all the oaks and elms and birch and sent its thick, pale limbs crashing through the walls and windows that looked down on it. Its roots were as thick around as a man’s waist, its trunk so wide that the face carved into it looked fat and angry.

britney_yeah.gif

What Did I Just Say Up There. So stupid to think Wyman isn’t just as Northern as the rest of them. If we wanna start getting tacky with it, Wyman is so ready to get tacky with it. Sorry to Freys & Lannisters but I think the pies is a cooler war crime!

“PORRIDGE FOR THE DEAD MAN.” Garth the gaoler is a comedian actually omg promote him to court jester!!

The north remembers, Lord Davos. The north remembers, and the mummer’s farce is almost done. My son is home.

Wex is soooooo fucking funny, like setting Theon up to feel up his own sister on Pyke & being way too pleased about it, then being the first to join up for Theon’s last stand and forcing a bunch of proud old dudes to die for that idiot but managing to survive by hiding literally inside the Weirwood, and then over dramatically throwing a dagger at the island of skagos on a map to show Davos where Rickon is. This kid is funnier than most adults i know lmao, Wex Pyke you’re an icon.

[jackoshadows]

Sansa not even knowing of Arya's or Jeyne's marriage to Ramsay is an indication of how little Petyr Baelish has told her and the readers of his grand schemes, plans and secret BTS plotting.

Which is one reason why we cannot take any of what Baelish tells Sansa at face value, considering everything he is not telling her.

We can pick up some clues here and there. The food that he is hoarding for his price gouging scheme informs me that he is aware that the food situation has become dire.

At the same time, while Littlefinger appears omnipotent in how much he controls and manipulates situations, we can also see there are other events that are beyond his control and will end up putting a spanner in the works.

For one, Baelish is only able to keep ahead of situations with a lot of luck (Tyrion not exposing him) and with the help of information available to him from an extensive spy network that lets him know of what is happening where and who is doing what. Ex. Dontos telling him of the Tyrell plot to marry Sansa to Willas.

It's easy to have spies in King's Landing (We get a little tidbit of LF asking for some tapestries...). Same with the Riverlands given that Littlefinger has reason to be interested in what's happening there as Lord Paramount of the Riverlands.

The rest of the realm and Essos is harder but doable with respect to public events and information that is trickling in everywhere. Like the current chaos in Meereen or the attack on Old Town or the Golden Company and Aegon Targaryen. Dorne (and the separate Quentyn/Arianne plots) would be near impossible considering how secretive Doran Martell has been.

Also trickier is the North considering how isolated it is, the weather and a lot of secretive plotting behind the scenes.

I doubt Littlefinger knows about Robb's will/decree considering it was witnessed and signed by select lords - most of whom are dead, imprisoned or on their way North secretly. I don't think there is a possibility of spies there or anyone blabbing to someone else.

There's no way Littlefinger knows about Rickon because, again, no possibility of spies in Manderly and Glover's secret plotting with Davos given how stealthy they are being on account of the Freys in their camp.

There was a lot of noise recently about an AFfC draft which mentions LF getting a message from White Harbor. But again, what message? If he has a spy there then the information he is getting will about the Manderlys being forced into marriage and alliance with the Freys and the crown in KL.

If he plans to sail to White Harbor to unveil Sansa as the heir in Winterfell based on information he gets from WH, he's going to be in for a big surprise. I do think he will have to course correct because by the time the intrigue in the Vale is all settled, he will get news that the Boltons are defeated and that Rickon/Jon have taken Winterfell and the North. What will he do then? I think he will pivot towards the Riverlands. Or, he may focus on the Riverlands first before he gets the news of Rickon/Jon back in Winterfell .

Apart from Sam Tarly, the only other group who knows that Bran is still alive are select folks of the Mountain clans and again, I can't imagine a Littlefinger plant secretly sending him messages amongst these clans.

Same with Arya Stark. Littlefinger - along with the Lannisters and the Boltons - thinks that Arya is dead and knows an imposter is playing her in the marriage to Ramsay Bolton.

This is most likely a vital part of his plot to get rid of the Boltons by exposing fake Arya as Jeyne, revealing Alayne as Sansa Stark and lay claim to Winterfell through Sansa as the rightful heir just like Tywin intended to eventually do with Tyrion/Sansa. However, Arya Stark is alive and well and unencumbered by marriage and there are no spies or informants who know this.

Littlefinger most likely knows about what's happening at the Wall considering how much information is leaking out of there like a sieve. If Cersei is able to get information, then so can Baelish. He surely knows about Stannis at the Wall, Tycho passing through and will know about Jon's assassination and mutiny. What he does with that information will be interesting to read - how much he will reveal to Sansa, and in what form he will tell her the truth.

And that's what most exciting about all this. The lack of information on what's actually happening in the North that's going to thwart and throw a spanner in Littlefinger's grand plans while Daenerys does the same to Varys' grand schemes. I think it will be fun if events end up surprising these master players of the games.

Arya, Bran and Rickon to Littlefinger...

[danytherelentless]

Through the Eyes of the Owl

Jon Snow x fem!reader

request: Hi there! Could you write a angsty Jon snow x female reader where she gets killed alongside him in the season 5 finale?

summary: Visiting the wall hopeful for an alliance with the last known living son of Eddard Stark, you end up stopped by their own politics.

warnings: major character death, murder, mentions to sexual assault (does not happen, just worried that it will)

notes: this is some weird mash up of show and book, so if it doesn't make sense to you, that's why. In the books Sansa is not given to the Bolton's, it's another girl called Jeyne Poole who they say is Arya.

The wall was an unfriendly place, especially for you as a woman. Part of you regrets coming here, but you can’t bring yourself to wholly feel so. What lies in the rest of the North is worse, being controlled by the treacherous Bolton's in the pockets of the Lannister's.

Here you are, however, with hope on your side that Jon Snow will listen. He has sworn his vows of course, he is the Lord Commander too, but this is for the sake of the entire North. For the revenge of his slaughtered family; for your own butchered kin. To save little Arya.

You are not the only one with such an idea, you know. Lord Manderly is good at pretending, but he told you enough of the truth for you to understand: the North remembers. Lord Bolton knows this, you do not doubt. House Stark and House Bolton have had wars in the past, but the North knows where it's true loyalties lie.

You sit nursing you ale feeling some pity for the brothers for having such awful drink, when the boy rushes in.

"My Lord! Your uncle! Lord Benjen's here."

Lord Commander jolts upright, "where?"

You don't have time to tell him it sounds strange to your ears, that no horn had been blown to signal the arrival of any rangers. You follow after him as he makes haste from his solar after the boy. You can't quite remember his name, but you remember his rage. The rage at him allowing the wildlings past, which you can empathize with having lost family to the raiders yourself, but understanding of it's necessity. He was but a child, how could he understand? You doubt you would be very understanding had your own kin been slaughtered like pigs before your own eyes. You were here seeking vengeance for that very reason, actually. Lord Jon, however, had been able to make a difficult decision which led to such burning hatred by his own men that you have to admire him for it. A good strong leader with the good of the people in his mind, in his every action. Son of Ned Stark indeed.

You follow his rushed steps into the courtyard and to where a group of black brother's are waiting, and you feel your stomach drop. Your owl swoops ahead, landing with a hoot, and you try to grab the Lord commanders arm, but he merely drags you through the huddle with him.

Your unease amounts, surrounded by men of the worst ilk with only one on your side and no sword at your hip. You wouldn't even go down swinging if they attacked you.

"Commander..." you try, but you see the lettered etched into the wooden cross as he does.

T R A I T O R .

He has turned to look as his men, but you still look to him at his side, frozen in fear. You pray that this is quick, the only fear on your mind rape, you would die with your dignity in tact if you could help it.

But you cannot. You know you are going to die, but the thought itself does not strike you with fear. You merely wish it wouldn't be here. Not here, not for another's political fallout. You are supposed to gain his support so that he will march back South and retake Winterfell with your house's backing and with that of other loyal men and women of the North. If you were to die here, it would have no meaning. None at all. Just another nameless corpse to be burned. To be forgotten.

You watched as the knife pierces his chest, as he lurches and lets out a choked sound.

Then you feel the first going into you. Then the second then the third. The pain is bright and burning and sudden. The last word on your lips is that of your owl's name as you slip into darkness, so quickly, you haven't realized that you are dead.

--

The next time that you open your eyes, you see your own corpse lying face down in snow next to the Lord Commander from eyes perched above.

I hope this is what you wanted

comments are greatly appreciated :)

[queenvhagar]

if they decide to make daeron a bastard imma scream... aside from the fact that it makes alicent even more of a hypocrite daeron being valyrian looking is actually pretty fucking important. in the books jace and daeron are only a few months apart in age and everyone was like "omg look at the queen giving birth to another targaryen looking baby while the princess had a baby that looks nothing like her or her husband!" also how the heck did daeron get a dragon if he's a bastard!?

first they give us no nettles now possibly this shit... I'm so over them adapting grrm's work into a version of whatever they think is cool.

also who the heck was princess aeriana. ik some folk are saying that it's possibly a made up character before aegon's conquest ... but the targaryen's weren't royalty at that point so wtf are the show makers high on, and i'm still mad at the stupid northern plot where they have jace talking about how aegon the conqueror went up north, plus cregan talking about how alyssane and jaehaerys visited winterfell during his dad's time which again makes zero fucking sense ... it was during alaric stark's time and he's probably cregan's grandpa or smth.

don't get me started on how they switched up addam and alyn's ages, plus didn't give us anything on marilda of hull ... oh and rhaenys apparently is totally cool with corlys having bastards and even thinks the boys mom must have been so pretty ...

this season is so boring and overall without context. daemon spends his time being high on harrenhal. alicent is going through major depressio arc. helaena is her usual mumbling self without any agency of her own. aemond is terrible. rhaenyra is ... idk what they're doing with her but i don't like it. aegon ii seems to be the only remotely interesting character but now he's gone.

so glad there's only one episode left of this disaster to get through ... can't believe they made us wait so long for this shit ... personally won't be waiting for season 3 because at this point it's probably going to be just as boring.

so disappointed we never got to see... jace negotiation with manderly's, sara snow, nettles, rhaenyra going mad with grief over luke, b&c going according to the books with helaena offering herself instead of her children, daeron in oldtown, book! accurate alyn and addam and daemon doing something instead of imagining how it'd be to fuck his mom...

sorry for the rant lol everything's just piled up for me since i waited until now to watch the shows and avoided spoilers to the best of my abilities. please do feel free to delete if you wish.

When people tell people that Game of Thrones was slow paced and technically very little happened and this season is just like that and to cope... nope.

As you mentioned in the second to last paragraph there were so many interesting things they could've done with this season to fill the time and expand on the story and characters... Instead there are 3 locations where morning scenes happen that don't grow the characters at all, nobody has any realistic motivations or emotions and reactions to events (and if they do they're framed as incorrect, like Jace or Aegon). It's oversimplified and redundant. No thoughts to be provoked. No depth to explore. No arcs for characters except maybe Daemon but it's been stretched way too far out and made irrelevant. No intrigue or politics. No scheming. Characters seem displaced from the setting...

I hope season 3 is the last season, and I won't be tuning into any other ASOIAF adaptations based on the crap fanfic quality of this one that they're trying to present as profound, deep, groundbreaking television.

[horizon-verizon]

PART FOUR of Undeniable Truths Recorded about Dance of the Dragons in F&B

*In Light of Season 2 of HotD*

[PART ONE, TWO, THREE]

note: some of these changes are fine

Alicent & Rhaenyra would never been able to secretly bypass a whole military blockade not just once or twice, but several times to "negotiate" how to put an end to the war without failing spectacularly & revealing themselves; nor even if they could would they want to, since the already-nonsensical-&-self-contradictory Rhaencient rewrite doesn't exist in canon

Jacaerys also visited the Manderlys &Jeyne Arryn aside from Cregan Stark (before Rhaena was sent to Jeyne)

not only did Jeyne Arryn verbalize and show so much more enthusiasm and determination to support Rhaenyra bc of their cousin link/Aemma, she also was for her (despite Daemon) bc she wanted to advance women's positions and safeguard their agency as she herself had to defend her rights against some male cousins despite having been named as heir

Jace's relationship w/Cregan was very clearly stronger than what's implied in the show, where they even made a pact that Jace's future daughter would marry Cregan's heir AND they spent a lot of time just hanging out as "bros" before that

in the show, The Battle of the Burning Mill occurred before any Blackwoods raided any house; in the book/orig story, the battle happened because the Rhaenyra-supporting Blackwoods attacked the green-supporting/declared Brackens and their lands (and only them) as one does at wartime (for all war is bad, this how it be)

in that battle, Samwell was killed by Amos Bracken; Alysanne Blackwood ("Black Aly") Blackwood, Samwell's sister and Benjicot's aunt, then killed Amos in the same battle (Sabitha Frey appears or is named much later, though she would have been active here as well)

obviously, Black Aly existed and she had already distinguished herself in killing Amos Bracken

when the Brackens left their seat (Stone Hedge) behind to counterattack at some random riverside mill, Daemon and his "strong host made up of Darrys, Rootes, Pipers, and Freys" seized Stone Hedge in their absence and took the remaining Brackens (Humphrey, his wife, kids, and paramour) & forced Amos' bastard brother, Raylon Rivers, to surrender

THEREFORE: no Tully or any Riverlord, went to Harrenhal to specifically accuse Daemon of anything in canon precisely because the Blackwoods targeted mostly or only the Brackens (not various riverlords) AND the Brackens had already declared for Aegon while the Blackwoods were for Rhaenyra -- thus these already feuding houses were at opposite sides

THEREFORE: Daemon did not send the Blackwoods to attack a non-discerning and non-anticipating house who was just there to be there; he prepared an attack on both ends against those who were already his sworn queen's enemies -- yes sacking villages is bad, so is war; point is that it wasn't the travesty or unethical by Westerosi standards bec it was all warfare circumstance

Oscar Tully was Grover Tully's great grandson (said ill and frail old man in the show)

Oscar Tully was not the lord of Riverrun/head of House Tully; his brother Kermit was, who was really the one leading the riverlords into battle & glory during and after the Dance

their father, Elmo Tully/Grover's grandson, was lord and he decided to keep the Tullys out of the fighting altogether until until Addam Velaryon basically forced them to (he would die on the march to war from contaminated water)

Grover Tully--remember, that old man show!Oscar mentions as reason for his presence--was fully for Aegon on the basis of maintaining a male's right over a woman's; he was one of those who voted for Viserys or against Laenor/Rhaenys...so Elmo defied his sick father to keep himself and his sons/the household alive

in the Blood & Cheese part, Alicent was there to witness what happened to Helaena and her kids, tied up & gagged before Helaena & her kids entered Alicent's rooms to say their goodnights

Maelor exists; when Blood and Cheese seized Helaena's kids, they forced Helaena into a "game" of choosing which boy would die; she tries to convince them to kill her instead (no necklace) but they threaten to r*pe Jaehaera and kill all her kids, so she reluctantly chooses Maelor to die; the duo instead kill Jaehaerys after Cheese whispers to Maelor his mother wanted him to die

Otto doesn't go anywhere despite possible exceptions he might have taken with Aegon killing many ratcatchers in response to Blood & Cheese

Gwayne Hightower never left KL bc Gwayne became 2nd in command under Luthor Largent, Lord Commander of the gold cloaks

the call for the Sowing didn't involve any of those who might have lived in KL - it was near-exclusively for people at Dragonstone-the-Island bc of the people's close history with the pre-Conquest Targs, who had affairs with or r*ped many of those on the island since they appeared

Jacaerys was the one to come up with the idea of the Sowing

Jacaerys was the one to meet with Corlys on how to attack KL with their dragons, which is how the Sowing came about

Addam had to save Alyn from his own attempt to bond with Sheepstealer; Alyn got badly burnt

Nettles existed, obviously; she became Sheepstealer's rider through patient offerings of sheep each and every morning

Mysaria was nowhere near Dragonstone; she, Rhaenyra, and Daemon meet up again once Rhaenyra and Daemon take KL

Daemon was already in Harrenhal when Luke died; he sent messages to people to plan for Blood and Cheese and was nowhere near KL...again, distances....

Corlys was much more active during this period; mentioned his meetings with Jace; asked/pushed Rhaenyra to legitimize Addam & Alyn

though it's by Mushroom's conclusions, the text makes it very clear that Rhaenyra would not have taken well to Alyn and Addam either living with her own kids nor openly shown to be Corlys' children...and thus so bc bk!Rhaenys was made of musch different stuff than show!Rhaenys...the evidence of such both consistent and as far back as before the GC of 101

Aegon and Aemond went to Rook's Rest together to ambush Rhaenys and it was planned; Criston is cited as one who likely either came up with the ambush himself or at least collaborated with Aemond for that

Aemond did not burn down Sharp Point in frustration over Rhaenyra having gathered her dragons..or any crownland house for that matter; he did burn down several random riverland villages alone on Vhagar after he and Cole found out about KL's fall/Daemon's deceit and Cole left him

[crimsonlyinglilly]

Princess Viserra's line

Guess who let themselves think to much HotD and Mikaelsons together.

@riderofblackdragons mostly your fault, you encourage, I share I over think.

also can be blamed on @nightingale2004 Post here

Viserra our drunken horse riding princess got picked as the Mikaelson's Targaryen link so she lives yay, get gets to be the mother of the start of this nightmare mess

Warning for incest, I couldn't pick which parent was the Targaryen before I realised why did I need to pick just one.

Slight changes to Characters names

----

Princess Viserra was once known as the most beautiful of Queen Alysanne Targaryen's daughters, after her marriage she became better known as the cold dragon.

Following her marriage she vowed to give her father what he wanted and never return south, King Jaehaerys wanted his daughters out of his sight so he would never lay eyes on her again.

She kept her word, when years later following the birth of her first child; she refused to present her to the king and queen. 

Queen Alysanne flew White Harbor herself with offers and promises, princess Viserra’s children would be princesses and princes of the realm.

Still the princess refused to leave the north instead Queen Alysanne returned to king's landing to present Princess Daehlia to the king, this was repeated the following year for Prince Mikael and a couple of years after that with Princess Aesther.

Theomore Manderly was clearly proud of his youngest children but after the birth of Princess Aesther he refused to share his wife’s bed claiming he had been widowed enough that he wouldn’t risk losing his princess.

Even when King Jaehaerys grew ill and it was said pleaded for his daughters and wife, Princess Viserra, his last living daughter, laughed and refused at both the letter summoning her south and her children’s request.

Her father didn’t want his daughter running about the kingdom, she had sworn a vow and she would keep it.

—

As the children grew it was clear while Princess Daehlia had gotten her mother’s dark purple eyes and fine features even if she had gotten the dark hair found in northerners, her younger siblings were thought of as the king and queen come again.

Yet the arrangement came from kings landing that princess Viserra’s eldest children would wed as the Targaryen way, however Princess Daehlia vanished before the wedding could pass and Prince Mikael and Princess Aesther wedded.

Rumours spread that Mikael had done away with his dark haired sister so he could wed his golden one.

But however it happened, the marriage proved more fruitful than the royal couple’s with their second child coming just days after the princess Rhaenyra’s tenth birthday.

While the lost of their first born Fraeya was said to have gutted the prince and princess the safe delivery of another son just months after her death was considered a breath of hope; but no one knows why, when any mention of how much the new child favoured the lost Princess Daehlia was met with rage from the new parents.

—--

“Brother please” his little brother’s normally controlled voice contained almost panic when he discovered in his room “don’t do this.”

“Aelijah.“ Finn sighed pausing in his packing, “I can't be father’s heir.” he tried to explain.

“And I can?” Aelijah heaved a sigh forcing Finn to turn to look at his little brother, just turned four and ten years old but with his hands set on his hip and looking at him with a serious look in his dark purple eyes he looked far older. Aelijah could be the perfect heir if not for birth order and the other misfortune of birth.

Finn stepped forward the moment he noticed the expression crumpled, Finn wasn’t sure if it was greenseeing of grandfather’s northern blood or the dragon dreams of grandmother’s but the dreams had left AElijah overcome with moments of fear and confusion. Finn had grown up managing his brother’s slip ups, he knew Niklaeus was just a versed, he wasn’t truly needed anymore

“Finn the things that are coming,” AElijah muttered into his chest “the house of the dragon is going to snap and claw and bleed itself and I can't face it alone.”

“Alright, I'll find another way.” He lied.

Prince Finn was last seen travelling with a flame-haired wildling woman.

—-

Rumours abound that Hayley Stark’s daughter is the child of Niklaeus’ not Aelijah’s, and Cregan used the shame to bring the calmer of the royal brothers into his house than lose his sister to another but whatever the truth was Prince Mikael’s rage at losing another heir was clear to all.

There was no talk about the marriage itself the north knew better than to question whatever is going on between the younger sister of Cregan Stark, Prince Mikael’s former heir and Lord Knott, it was their marriage and the mountain clans had their own way of doing things.

—-

Klaeus hates his father, that Mikael’s grasping reach for power was the reason Aelijah took the first chance to flee to House Stark.

He knows Mikael blamed him for everything, that Niklaeus’ arranged it all so he could wed Rebaekah himself but he wanted his siblings to stay with him losing Aelijah to the starks was not part of it.

He was just glad he could still over over him though the ravens, it was how he knew the dreams were getting worse.

Klaeus grew up with Aelijah's dreams and then Rebaekah’s he knew to listen and read them, House Targaryen was going to tear itself apart and Mikael's want to be a part of it, for the power, was going to destroy them.

Klaeus was going to need to do something about his parents before they got them all killed.

[januaryembrs]

THE LION'S SHARE OF WARMTH | Jaime Lannister x reader

Request: ay!! heres to 1k!! :DD can I please have a Jaime Lannister x reader, where the nights too cold to sleep alone even in front of a fire, forcing them to cuddle to keep warm?

Description: A cold night between two enemies leads to an embarrassing wake up call.

word count: 1.1k

trigger warnings: none, swearing? Mention of the war going on ?

main masterlist

For a girl born into the North, there was nothing you hated more than the cold. Your mother said you had just never grown accustomed to the climate, always insisting on the thickest pelts to cover your bed despite the fact your family had lived through the thickest Winters spanning back generations. 

Which is why you swore all twenty of your fingers and toes were damn near ready to fall off when you were forced to sleep outside on the road to King’s Landing. Call it being spoiled by coming from a respectable lord’s family, but had you not had a good reason to be here, you would be long gone and in front of a roaring fire by now on a night like this. 

That respectable lord just so happened to be Wyman Manderly. Your house had fallen to near mania the moment the war of the five kings began, and you had fled to Robb and Catelyn Stark with your twin brothers Wylis and Wendel. The Starks and the Manderlys had always been closely allied, and as all Northern houses you had grown closely knit with the great Wolf house. 

Which was why when Jaime Lannister appeared in a cage on the Stark encampment, bloodied and dirtier than you’d ever seen the once proud lion, you knew Catelyn Stark was fighting with every tooth and nail to get Sansa and Arya back from the capital.

And who better to send to bargain for the two girls than Brienne of Tarth, the strongest swords woman in Westeros, and Y/N Manderly, daughter of the richest Northern family. Since you already had money of your own and your family was incredibly loyal to the Starks, Catelyn and Robb agreed you were unlikely to be swayed by anything Cersei could offer you and could discuss an offer with the Lannisters like the astute and academic woman you were.

Which is how you got here, on a narrow and freezing road to the capital with Brienne and Jaime Lannister.

“My legs tire, we need to rest soon,” Jaime whinged for the umpteenth time that day as you and Brienne carted him in chains through the rough terrain. Well Brienne held the irons, seeing as she could overpower the man if needs be, while you had little more than a dagger to fend him off. 

You shot a look at the tall woman, the two of you mirroring each other with a glare of annoyance at his theatrics. You ignored him, continuing your steady pace onwards. The Lannister man seemed to be unused to people, especially women, not pouring over him with affection and lavishing him with whatever he requested since he began digging his heels into the earth like a lame mule.

“I said we need rest. Do you really think my sister will take kindly to me being returned to her as a cripple?” Jaime complained, yanking against the bonds to get your attention. You wished to disregard him some more until he said: “If I am to be exchanged for the girls and I come home bruised and deformed, what do you think she’ll do to Sansa and Arya?” 

You and Brienne halted. You hadn’t quite thought about treating him kindly since it was his forsaken family that had started this war in the first place. 

You looked to Brienne for assurance, the Tarth woman giving you a small nod in response. The two of you spun to advance on the man who wore an annoyingly winning smile at the fact he had gotten you both to listen. 

“We are stopping until the moment the day breaks, do you hear?” You growled at him, only making his cracked lips draw wider. “And wipe that smirk of your face, there will be no fire tonight,”

Gods be known you were so stupid to have said that. In punishing him you had punished yourself. Brienne didn’t seem to mind the frosty night air as she bundled up under her furs, sleeping soundly as if it were another night in a bed. 

“A Northern woman who feels the cold, that’s new,” Jaime snickered from his place behind you. Your body must have been shaking more than you’d hoped. You felt the night air kiss every inch of your skin as the wind whipped even the slightest bit and it sent a vicious shiver through your body.

“Shut up or I’ll maim you, Lannister,” You both knew it was an empty threat, one you’d barely made through without your teeth chattering loudly. It only served to make him chuckle, and you heard him shuffle closer to you. 

Drawing your blade, you were quick to raise the sharp tip to prod against the soft of his stomach. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You seethed.

“Relax. You’re clearly cold, and Cersei would have both your heads if I returned to King’s Landing with the shivering sickness,” Jaime said, attempting to slip an arm around your waist that you swiftly batted away with your arm.

“I’d rather risk your bitch of a sister than be anywhere near you,” You spat, raising the dagger up to his chin, “If you dare touch me in my sleep I’ll send you back to her in pieces, do you understand?” 

He raised his hands in defence, rolling back away from you and muttering something foul under his breath. You could tell his confidence was knocked that the Jaime Lannister couldn’t have his way with every woman he came across. Any other woman in Westeros would give an arm and leg to cuddle with him for warmth, any woman but you. 

You closed your eyes, the flame of anger enough to ward off the chill for just long enough that you were able to get to sleep on wrath alone. 

Your face blazed with similar heat when you awoke to the feeling of strong laughter humming through a set of ribs. You realised very quickly that your face was not pressed into the dirt like it was when you fell asleep last night but instead against someone's clothed spine. 

“I thought you said I’d be in pieces by now?” Came a raspy voice, and you shoved yourself upright aghast. Not only were you spooning the damn king’s guard whose very soul you loathed, but in no way could you blame him for it happening seeing as it was him facing away from you.

Your cold body had sought him out for warmth in your sleep.

“Embarrass-”

“That’s ENOUGH, Lannister,”

[lovedreamer11]

Westeros couples with large age gaps

Okay, today I want to write about the age gap among Westeros couples. This will be a long post. I got this idea after seeing a post calling Daemon a pedophile for the hundredth time. I would understand if this was written by people who are concerned about Rhaenyra’s well-being, but no. The authors of such statements are most often green fans who don’t care about Rhaenyra and are looking for another reason to write nasty things about Daemon.

The sexual relationship between Daemon and Rhaenyra began when the princess was 15 and the prince 31. From a modern point of view, this is terrible, I admit. If I had a daughter, I would never have allowed her to have a relationship with such a big age difference when she was 15. But at that time, others were more embarrassed by the fact of an extramarital affair than by the fact of an extramarital affair. age difference. Rhaenyra was lucky in a way. I mean, before the war, Daemon was good to her. They spent a lot of time together, expensive gifts, compliments. Maesters love to discuss Daemon and Rhaenyra's relationship during the war, but before the war there was not a single mention of adultery in the ten years of marriage. Moreover, shortly before the war, Daemon and Rhaenyra conceived another child, and the entire time the princess was carrying Visenya, her husband was always nearby. And even at 49 years old, Daemon was still an attractive man.

Let's look at other couples.

Rhaenys and Corlys. The age difference between them is 21 years. Corlys is older than Rhaenys's father, Prince Aemon. But this did not bother anyone. The princess's grandfather himself, King Jaehaerys, approved of this marriage and stated that Rhaenys could not have chosen a better man. And Rhaenys was only 16 years old, while Corlys was 37 years old. She was his wife almost all her life. 39 years of marriage.

What do you think of the age difference between Corlys and the mother of his illegitimate sons? 44 years old. My grandfather was 44 when I was born. And it wasn’t even a one-night stand, since there were two children. The boys lived with their mother in the village, while Corlys did nothing for the boys' well-being over the years, as he was too afraid of his wife's reaction.

Next up are Princess Daella Targaryen and Lord Rodrik Arryn, who are 21 years apart in age. I admit, I don't feel any animosity towards this couple. After all, thanks to them, Aemma Arryn was born, and after Rhaenyra Targaryen. But there are some points that confuse me. First, the reasons why Daella chose Lord Arryn is that he reminds her of her father. The second thing is that, according to Alysanne, Rodrik loved the princess for many years and did not hide it. I'm sorry, many years? Daella was 16 when the wedding took place. How old was Daella when a thirty-year-old man and father of four children liked her? There's an even better question. If Alysanne knew that the councilman was in love with her daughter, who was younger than his own eldest daughter, then why didn't she do anything?

What will people say about Lady Baela Targaryen and Thaddeus Rowan, who was 40 years older than the girl? Here is his description.

"Lord Rowan is forty years my senior, bald as a stone, with a belly that weighs more than I do."

Every girl's dream, isn't it? Fortunately, Baela was able to avoid such a marriage, but Floris Baratheon was not so lucky. Thaddeus was 42 years older than the girl, and Floris herself got married at 14. To make matters worse, a few years later the poor girl died during childbirth.

What about between the engagement between Princess Viserra Targaryen and Lord Theomore Manderly, who was 30-40 years older than the bride? To make matters worse, he outlived four of his wives and had several heirs. Viserra would be doomed to spend the rest of her life in a foreign land, with an old and ugly husband, and her children, if they were born, would not receive any inheritance. I just can’t believe that such a marriage was arranged for a girl by her own mother.

Princess Daenerys Targaryen (daughter of Aegon the Unworthy) at the age of 15 married Prince Maron Martell, who was 14-25 years older than her. The marriage was an arranged one and, according to GRRM, Daenerys herself was in love with her illegitimate brother Daemon Blackfire. But at least it seems that Maron was kind to his wife, and Daenerys herself became the wife of the Prince of Dorne. I would like to believe that Daenerys was able to find happiness in this marriage.

Lysa Tully was born between 266 and 268. Her first husband, Jon Arryn, was born between 218 and 220. The age difference between them is almost fifty years. Jon was old enough to be a father to Hoster Tully, Lysa's father. I have never felt love for Lysa Arryn, but I feel sorry for her. She was unhappy almost all her life, and due to her past abortion, she was unable to become a mother for a long time. Jon was kind to wife and their marriage gave Lysa power over the Valley, but still the power did not make Lysa happy.

Daenerys Targaryen and Khal Drogo. Their age difference is somewhere between 15-20 years. GOT tried to romanticize this couple, but I don’t see romance. I apologize to the fans of this couple. But Dany is a real victim of Stockholm syndrome. I really feel sorry for fourteen-year-old Daenerys, who convinced herself that there was great love between her and Drogo.

Lord Walder Frey and his eighth wife Lady Joyeuse Erenford. Attention, the age difference between them is 74 years! Walder is an old and rude old man who has more than ten heirs. The poor girl will just waste her youth on her husband and be unhappy all her life.

Larra Rogare and Prince Viserys Targaryen. Their age difference is only seven years. Not as much as previous couples. Everything would not be so bad if Viserys was 16 years old and Larra 23, but no. When the couple got married, the prince was only 12 years old, and at 13 he became a father. This is normal?!

The next couple will surprise everyone. This is Maegor Targaryen and Ceryse Hightower, who was 10 years older than her husband. Then again, if Maegor was 16 and Ceryse was 26, everything would be fine. But Maegor was only thirteen. At that time, he had not yet become a murderer of relatives and a usurper, he was a child. Problematic, but still a child. I blame Aegon and Visenya for allowing their son to marry so early rather than wait at least two or three more years.

The point is that in Westeros marriages with large age differences constantly occurred. This is truly terrible. Some were able to find happiness in their marriage, some avoided it, some remained unhappy for the rest of their lives. This post may seem chaotic to some, but don't judge me. I got sick a little bit.