#oc: margaery stark baratheon

[rainwingmarvel7]

Tagged by @kyber-infinitygems to do this super cute picrew!

Tagging @selfproclaimedunicorn, @emilykaldwen, and anyone else who might want to do it!

Nadya Dormaire (GoT) || Lena Stark Arryn (GoT)

Talisa Stark Tully (GoT) || Margaery Stark Baratheon (GoT)

Therese Targaryen (HotD) || Vaella Targaryen (HotD)

[danysdragonflies]

tweets from my upcoming ff

part 1

[cdragons]

The Eastern Wind & Moon Sail to Winterfell

READ THIS FOR CONTEXT

Previous Part

Summary: 美灵 (Měilíng) and 明阴 (Míng Yīn) visit House Stark after news of Jon Arryn's death and murder arrives at Winterfell. Ned Stark senses a trouble brewing in the air. Are the vultures from King's Landing circling to soon feast on his family's flesh? Is there any way to stop it? Meanwhile, the Young Wolf begins to battle his desires for the heart and affections of one tempestuous YiTish Sea Captain.

Warning(s): MDNI 18+; Canon doesn't exist here *shhhhhhhh*, Ned is having a crisis, Stannis may be OOC; Robb Stark wants to Dom the hot sea captain when he's clearly a Sub; Catelyn Stark is kind of a bitch; GOT is GOT (shit's gonna go down); Yi Tish dialogue is Bold, Italicized, and Green

Author's Note: Author hasn't seen Game of Thrones in a long-ass time, so if the characters are OOC...my bad 🤷🏻‍♀️. I used Mandarin for YiTish, and translations are at the bottom. Game of Thrones belong to GRR Martin, and the regions of Yi Ti are all credited to @anya-snow. If you liked reading this, please check out the masterlist!

Arya continually stabbed her needle in the fabric as Septa Mordane gushed over Sansa’s pretty embroidery. She looked beside her and met eyes with his youngest brother’s betrothed, Shireen Baratheon. The young girl gave an encouraging smile as she also struggled with stitching and embroidery. The young Baratheon heiress preferred to lose herself in the ancient library in Winterfell or with Maester Luwin as they discussed the history of House Targaryen.

The Stark girl smiled back at the young Baratheon. She liked Shireen very much, and thought her excellent company. At night, she would recount tales and stories her sister, Minna, shared from her travels in letters or from herself. Arya felt her mood drop again as he looked at Sansa. Shireen was so lucky to have an older sister as exciting and fun as Minna—someone who would fight and travel the world. The girls were only sisters through marriage. Shireen was from Stannis Baratheon’s first marriage, as Minna was the daughter of her mother’s first in Yi Ti, but they loved each other so fiercely that blood hardly mattered.

Minna didn’t care that Shireen was scarred from Greyscale, nor did she treat her as a pitiful creature to grow with her face. Minna and her mother, Lady Mei, loved the girl to the seven hells and back. The woman loved Shireen so much that she demanded her new husband swear that Shireen’s place as his heir would not be changed if they ever had a son. Arya still remembered the night she overheard Shireen tell Rickon how Minna told her that the gods gave Shireen her scars to prevent the Maiden from cursing her.

“Minnie told me I have the most beautiful soul,” she whispered just loud enough for Arya to hear her from outside an open door. “If I were beautiful both inside and out, the Gods would have cursed me for having too much, like Aphrodite had done to Marcaria.”

Arya bitterly continued with her stitching as a dull thud entered her ears, and she turned her head in the direction of laughter outside in the courtyard.

Bran struggled as he pulled his arm to draw out the bowstring. His older brothers, Jon and Robb, stood beside him in observation to guide his lessons while his younger brother, Rickon, sat above them on a mounted saddle. When he released the bowstring, the arrow shot up and over the target and outside the wall. He looked down in dejection as his brothers began to laugh even harder.

“And which one of you was a mark smith at ten?” his father, Lord Eddard ‘Ned’ Stark, called out above them. He and Lady Catelyn Stark, nee Tully, watched him practice. Ned Stark looked at his young son and encouraged him. “Keep practicing, Bran. Go on.”

Jon Snow lowered to whisper in Bran’s ear. “Don’t think too much about it, Bran.”

“Relax your bow arm,” remarked Robb.

Just when Bran was about to release his draw, an arrow shot past him and pierced the red center of the target. Whipping his head behind him, Bran saw it was Arya with a bow about twice her height. She curtsied with a smile before Bran went after her. She let him chase after her, and soon, they were running around the courtyard.

“Quick, Bran! Faster!” called out Jon as he and Robb watched their two siblings joyfully play.

Rickon remained seated on the mounted saddle. He looked up at the window where Sansa and Shireen should be. When his mother and father told him he would marry Stannis Baratheon’s daughter last year, his mother was enraged. He overheard Mother plead with his father to reconsider the match. She did not want her youngest boy to be with someone deformed by the gods. But Father dismissed her claims.

“Shireen Baratheon is Mei’s daughter now, and she confirmed that the girl’s illness is no longer contagious.” Ned Stark firmly stated.

“You would risk our family’s health over some foreign woman’s ‘confirmation?’’ Catelyn Stark exclaimed. “How is she to know? How can you possibly trust her words so much? A woman from a land as far as hers has no way of knowing such remedies. What if she and that girl–”

Her husband cut her off. “That’s enough, Cat. I understand your worries. I do. But I will not allow you to besmirch Mei’s and her daughter’s good names. She has been a long friend of Stannis Baratheon, and now she is his wife. She would never harm children. Never.”

He noticed his words frustrated his wife, and he placed a gentle hand on her arm before laying a soft kiss on her brow. “Mei is probably the wisest woman I have ever known. And sending Shireen with her daughter isn’t so much for an engagement – but to make her comfortable around others. The boys are long used to her sister’s presence; they will take up nicely with Shireen’s.”

And the matter was settled. Rickon remembered how Mother and Sansa kept their distance from the girl when she first arrived with Minna. Minna would only stay for the first month before leaving to travel to the Reach and then Dorne. When Shireen first approached him during Luwin’s lessons, he was amazed by the book size she was carrying. The moment she opened her mouth about things like Jin and huakaʻi pō, Rickon decided that it would make him extremely happy if he spent the rest of his life with Shireen. His mother was less than pleased and stormed off to lock herself in Winterfell’s Sept. But Father only gave Rickon a proud smile and gave his hair a good tousle.

As Ned Stark and his wife laughed at the scene, they were interrupted by the small pattering of a child’s footsteps running towards them. They turned and saw Shireen Baratheon escorted by Theon Greyjoy, the Ironborn ward. The odd pair first bowed respectfully and greeted Lord and Lady Stark with their titles before Theon stepped aside for Shireen. The young girl was beaming so widely that it warmed the old Lord’s heart. He couldn’t help but pity the child for the hand life dealt her, but it filled his heart to know that she would at least experience some kindness outside her own family.

“Ah, Lady Shireen,” he greeted the girl. “What brings you here? Come to watch Bran practice?”

Shireen shook her head. “No, my lord. I just received news from Shadow. My sister is currently docked at Dragonstone, and she, Mother, and Steffard will be arriving in White Harbor in a week’s time from tomorrow!”

Ned’s eyebrows shot up in bewilderment. “A week? From Dragonstone to White Harbor? How will they make it so fast with her crew and that giant ship of hers?”

“They won’t be coming with her,” Shireen answered. “She’s traveled to after stopping at King’s Landing. Father is Dragonstone to take care of some things while she sails alone. My sister is a very accomplished sailor blessed with the winds’ favor, my lord. I wouldn’t be surprised if she arrived here in just five days or less.”

Ned gave a loud laugh. “Knowing she’s your mother’s daughter, it wouldn’t surprise me either. Thank you for telling me.”

“I’ll be sure to prepare a guest room for them,” Lady Catelyn informed her husband before turning to Shireen. “Will your sister and Lady Baratheon bring their own handmaidens, or will they need one provided? Will your brother need a wet nurse?”

Shireen shook her head. “Oh no, my lady! My sister greatly dislikes the idea of handmaidens and ladies-in-waiting! But Minnie said that she would be bringing Wu! And my mother prefers to nurse my brother.”

Lady Catelyn Stark’s smile faltered slightly while Ned’s widened at the mention of Lady Minna’s ‘pets.’ The beasts resembled more killers than travel companions. Catelyn Stark almost preferred the ruffians that made up her crew to the animals.

Shireen turned to Theon. “Do you think Ari will enjoy spending time with another bird? I would feel awful if he became lonely from Shadow’s arrival.”

Theon gave a sincere smile to the young girl before tousling her hair. “I think nothing would make him happier, my lady. He was bored out of his mind being alone with the ravens before Baleor’s arrival. What’s one more?”

Rodrick walked up to his lord and lady to inform them that they had captured a deserter of the Wall, and they were ready to give his execution. Ned Stark’s expression became somber hearing the news as his eyes darted to the young Shireen. He ordered Theon to escort her and Rickon to Maester Luwin for their lessons before telling Robb and Jon to saddle their horses. When the Greyjoy ward left, he informed Rodrick that Bran would join them. This gave concern to his wife.

“Ned,” she pleaded. “Ten is too young to see such things.”

“He won’t be a boy forever,” her husband replied. “And winter is coming.”

Bran kept thinking about the words his father had imparted to him after he had taken off the deserter’s head with Ice.

“The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword.”

It still confused him. He wanted to ask Robb when Father stopped in the middle of the road. He made a right turn toward the river. Jon was right behind Father while Bran followed. It was a direwolf! But…it was dead, and it had pups! But as excited as Bran was, he made no sound. Everyone around him was silent as they all stood in awe at the dead symbol of their house.

“It’s a freak,’ remarked Theon.

Father corrected him. ‘It’s a direwolf–” he looked at Rodrick for a moment in shock before grabbing the antler lodged in its throat “–tough old beast.”

“There are no direwolves South of the Wall,” commented Robb.

“Now there are five,” remarked Jon, picking one pup in his arms and handing it to Bran. “You want to hold it?”

The pup’s fur was white with speckles of grey across its body. Its body squirmed as it whined and whimpered at the change of its surroundings – and for the death of its mother.

Bran looked up at his brother. “Where will they go? Their mother’s dead.”

With a heavy heart, Rodrick answered the young lordling’s question. “They don’t belong down here.”

Ned Stark stood with his sword in hand. “Better a quick death. They won’t last without their mother.”

“Right,” Theon unsheathed his blade and reached for the pup in Bran’s arms. “Give it here.”

“No!” Bran cried as Theon looked mildly distressed at the boy’s plea.

“Put away your blade,” Robb commanded his friend. He didn’t like to give Theon orders – especially since the boy was more like a brother to him than just a ward his father brought from the Iron Islands, but he didn’t want to spill the direwolf pup’s blood.

Nonetheless, Robb’s words irked Theon. “I take orders from your father, not you.”

But Bran couldn’t allow the pups to die. He continued to plead with his father. “Please, Father!”

“I’m sorry, Bran.” The lord didn’t like seeing his young so upset, but he needed to understand the way of the world. It would be cruel to let the pups live – only to struggle to live and die before winter comes.

“Lord Stark–” Ned turned around to his son’s voice “–there are five pups—one for each of the Stark children. The direwolf is the sigil of your house. They were meant to have them.”

“And what about you?” thought Ned. “Are you not my child? Why should you be denied the right to wear and own the sigil of my house – your house? Even if you carry neither mine nor your mother’s name- are you still not of my blood?”

 He looked at his son with sad and hurt eyes as if reliving a memory from another lifetime ago. When everyone turned to him, waiting for an answer, he replied sternly and somberly.

“You will train them yourselves. You will feed them yourselves.” And with bitter anger on his tongue, he spat out. “And if they die, you will bury them yourselves.”

As Jon handed two more direwolf pups in Robb’s arms, Bran turned to his brother. “What about you?”

Jon hesitated before answering. “I’m not a Stark. Get on.”

But as they began to leave, Jon heard small and faint whimpers from below. He walked down to try and locate it. Robb and Theon stopped to ask if there was a problem. For his answer. He held up a sixth direwolf pup – one with stark white fur like snow and piercing blood-red eyes.

“Ah, the runt of the litter,” Theon quipped with a smug smirk. “That one’s yours, Snow.”

Jon looked at Greyjoy with exasperation, while Robb looked pleased and grateful for the albino pup’s existence. At the very least, his favorite brother also had a direwolf. He was a Stark – whether his mother liked it or not.

The ride back to Winterfell was quiet in the front, with the grown men still somber and sullen from the execution. But the boys were speaking with one another with great excitement for bringing home new members of their family. Robb and Theon were riding in front of Jon and Bran. Bran was still thinking about what the deserter said about the white walkers. Was he lying? Was Father right about mad men seeing what they want to see? But…he didn’t look mad.

“Quite the day for the lad. Eh, Bran?” Theon called out to him as Bran broke from his thoughts. “First, your first deserter execution. Next, you and your siblings are getting a direwolf each. And to think, I thought Shireen’s sister’s arrival would be the most exciting news of the day.”

“What?” thought Bran. His thoughts about white walkers and deserters were quickly replaced by news of his friend's arrival.

“Minnie’s coming?” he excitedly asked with a broad smile and bright eyes. “Did she say when? Is she bringing Wu with her?”

Theon’s news also caught Jon’s and Robb’s attention. Jon was lost in his thoughts since finding the albino wolf pup. Robb was thinking about Arya’s and Rickon’s reactions to receiving the privilege of caring for their house’s sigil. But now, something of greater import came to their attention.

“Ming’s coming?” asked Jon. “Are you sure?”

Theon smirked at the bastard’s excitement. “I was with her when Shadow flew up to her with a message tied on its leg – escorted the Lady Shireen myself when she told Lord and Lady Stark. Lass was practically jumping off the walls after reading it.”

“Did she say when she would be arriving? Are Lord Stannis and his lady wife coming with her?” asked Robb.

Theon shook his head. “She says she’s in Dragonstone to prepare for her stay. She’ll be at White Harbor in a week. She’s bringing their mother and brother, too. But Lord Stannis won’t be joining them this time.”

This greatly confused Bran and his brothers. Lord Stannis was infamous for his sour expressions and austereness – but anyone who had the privilege of meeting him now would see how much the company of his second wife softened his hard nature. Stannis Baratheon was a man who showed no love for his brothers, but he adored the women and girls in his life. An adoration now extended to his youngest child, his only son.

For such a man to not travel with his wife was a strange and unusual occurrence.

“Why is Lord Stannis not traveling with Minnie and Lady Mei?” asked Bran. His brows furrowed before worry took hold of him. “Did he and Lady Mei fight, and she’s running away with their son?”

“Bran, that’s enough,” ordered Jon. “Everyone knows how much Lord Stannis respects Lady Mei’s advice. I’m sure he's not joining them because there’s too much to do at King’s Landing. Being King Robert’s brother gives him a great number of duties.”

Theon turned to Jon with a wide smirk. “Awfully defensive of Lady Mei’s honor – aren’t you, Snow? Think that’ll grant you any favors from her daughter, ‘Minion’?”

“Don’t call her that!” Bran called out.

Jon sputtered his response with red-tipped ears. “You know how much she hates being called that. Or do you want a repeat of what happened in the courtyard when you and Robb first called her that? And, of course, I care about Minna’s mother – I’d be a bad friend if I didn’t.”

Jon shouldn’t be as excited as he was at that moment. But he couldn’t help himself. Ming – his Ming – was coming to Winterfell. She was everything Jon wanted in an older sibling. She was invincible and told him as such. She and her mother had never once treated him differently from the rest of the Stark Children after learning of his bastard status. Whenever he got in over his head about his birth, she would always manage to ground him in some way. Once, he asked her if she was trying to trick him. She stared at him briefly before rolling up a piece of paper and swatting his head.

He still remembered her scowl with fondness.

“Do I look as stupid as Catelyn Stark to you?” she interrogated. “Who cares if you’re a bastard? You care about your siblings and work hard to be a worthy son despite the world giving you an excuse not to. I’ve given you some of my favorite fruits from my homeland, and you dare ask me if my friendship towards you was a ruse?! Don’t be stupid, Jon.”

He wept like a baby. He had never felt so happy in his life, and all he could do was thank his friend while weeping for joy. And to make him stop crying, she let him cry on her shoulder as she softly stroked his hair.

“Yeah,” snorted Theon. “Friend – sure.”

“That’s enough,” Robb cut in. “All of you. You want Father to scold us?”

Robb could tell his brothers were ecstatic about Ming’s arrival, but he had conflicting emotions about the news. Ming Yin Baratheon was a woman grown who was older than him by two years, the same age as Theon. Ming always had a wicked and brash tongue on her. When they first met, she was his height but so skinny and dressed so plainly with dirt streaks on her face.

Was it really so bad if he assumed she was smallfolk?

Then Theon dared him to tug on her braid while she was reading a book in the courtyard. A stupid dare between stupid boys resulted in them running for their lives with tears down their cheeks as a short and bookish girl chased them with a broom twice her height. She shouted out curses and promises of all the vile things she would do to them as she violently swung the broom through the air with fire in her eyes and poison on her tongue.

It took the combined efforts of Stannis, his father, Rodrick, and Jory to pry her off when she caught up to them. In the end, Robb’s cheeks burned with embarrassment as Luwin treated his bleeding nose, black eye, and bruises across his body while he and Father occasionally snickered to themselves. His mother nearly had a heart attack at the state of her eldest child. When she heard what had happened and tried to scold the girl, Ming only responded by blowing her tongue and spraying her spittle at the Tully woman. Even with more dirt on her cheeks than before and her braid ruined, she carried herself in such an unrelenting dignified manner that Robb couldn’t help but envy it.

At the very least, Theon was in no better state than him.

How in the Seven Hells could a girl of nine years manage to fight off four grown men? The memory stumped Robb then and still stumped him now.

“Scared of meeting the Demoness from Dragonstone?” Theon smugly asked when he saw his friend staring in the distance. “Or are you worried she won’t be impressed with your new height and strength when she sees you haven’t improved your writing?”

Robb scoffed at Theon’s words. “No, don’t be ridiculous.”

He refused to believe that he cared so much for some quick-tempered girl who always teased him– even if she had shiny black hair that ended at her waist and sharp, expressive dark eyes with full lips. It didn’t matter that she haunted his dreams every night since she was in Winterfell when she turned fourteen. It didn’t matter to Robb that Minna was the epitome of an exotic beauty with enough fire in her soul for any Northern winter to freeze her. It didn’t matter to Robb that she was closer to Jon than to him.

“I’ll kiss you when you finally beat me.”

It didn’t matter to Robb – none of it.

“I’m not scared of Minna, Theon – so stop trying to bait me.” Robb let that be the final word before riding ahead just behind his father.

Meanwhile, Ned had heard everything passed between the boys while riding in the front. He chuckled at Bran’s excitement. He was sure he would be climbing the gates of Winterfell every day to wait for Minna’s arrival. It was no secret to anyone in the Stark family or those working in Winterfell that Bran had a bit of a crush on the tempestuous sailor. While his wife disliked the girl, Ned was very fond of her. Her temper and sharp tongue reminded him of Mei when he first met her. Not to mention that she was the spitting image of Mei at that age.

He wasn’t too old to be oblivious to how his sons acted around pretty girls – especially girls like her. Northern women were one thing, but Mei and Minna were an entire league of women. There had never been two women who would turn Westeros upside down and inside out as much as them. Mei had turned the forever stoic Stannis Baratheon into a feeling human, became the most respected woman in the Keep, and opened trade opportunities for Westeros. At the same time, Minna tore down every obstacle in her path to pursue knowledge and made Dragonstone one of the richest keeps in the Seven Kingdoms – not that Robert or his queen will ever get a hold of a single coin from her.

When Ned and his sons returned to Winterfell, he was immediately bombarded with questions from the rest of his children about whether Minnie was really coming to Winterfell. They asked if he knew about whether he knew she was bringing gifts from her travels. Arya wanted to know if she would give her a dagger forged by the Master blacksmiths from Qohor. Rickon hoped she would bring any sweets and candied fruits.

Even Sansa couldn’t hide her excitement. Despite the girls' differences, Minna would bring Sansa the most exquisite fabrics, accessories, and books. The gifts were more often than not used as a way to distract her from any pranks or tricks pulled on her. Thankfully, Mei would be here as well. Sansa held Lady Mei Baratheon on nearly the same high pedestal as her mother. She would tell how beautiful Sansa was growing and how her grace and charm rivaled the most beautiful empresses from her homeland. She would sing praises of how her stitching looked more impressive than the last time she’d seen it while sharing news of the latest trends worn among noble women worldwide.

Excitement filled the halls of Winterfell at the news of their guests. Preparations were underway for their arrival. Ned went to the Godswood and shone his sword under the branches of the Old Weirwood tree for some peace. He was grateful for the life the Old Gods blessed him with. This was not the life he was meant to have. Everything of his should have been Brandon’s – his wife, his title, his responsibilities – but he wouldn’t change any of it, not for all of the power and gold in the world.

But his world would be crashing down around him when his wife arrived with a message from King’s Landing.

“I’m so sorry, my love,” Catelyn told him with sympathetic eyes. Then she told him Jon Arryn had died, and Robert and his wife would travel to Winterfell with their children and the Queen’s brothers.

Ned looked down at his feet. “If he’s traveling this far North, it’s for one thing.” He looked at his wife in hidden fear. “He wants to make me his Hand.”

“First Mei, now Robert,” thought Ned when he shared the news to his children. “May the Old Gods and New protect my family for what’s to come.”

Bran watched the road to his father’s keep from the top of the gates. He saw a single dot moving closer and closer until the dot became a wheelhouse. His eyes widened in excitement as his smile broadened in anticipation for his friend in the horse-drawn carriage that carried House Baratheon’s banner. He stood up and ran across the edge or beginning to climb down the tower. He reached the ground to run to his father at the stables.

“They’re here! They’re here!” he exclaimed when he reached him. The boy was practically bouncing on his heels for barely containing his elation.

Ned chuckled at the sight of his son. “Who, Bran?”

“Minnie! There’s a wheelhouse coming! It carries the sigil of House Baratheon!”

“Was anyone carrying the banner?” his father asked with a quizzical brow raised.

Bran shook his head. “No, but I saw it painted on the top of it.”

“Alright, then,” nodded Ned as he gave his son instructions. “Gather your brothers, sisters, and Shireen. I’ll prepare your mother. Tell them to gather in the courtyard to greet them.”

Bran nodded before doing as his father instructed. He swiftly ran through the familiar halls of the Winterfell keep that was his home. He found Sansa, Arya, and Shireen with Septa Morgane. They were learning their sums when Bran burst into the room. Septa Morgane scolded him for acting so brashly, but her words were quickly ignored when Bran told the girls that Minnie and her mother would soon arrive. As soon as the news left his mouth, Shireen dashed right past him, followed by his sisters.

Jon, Robb, and Theon were already in the courtyard, sparring with wooden swords, when Bran found them. They immediately put away their wooden swords and met their father with Rodrick right behind them. Father and Mother stood side-by-side when Robb stood to Father’s left. Rickon stood next to their mother, and Shireen stood next to him with an eager smile beaming on her face. Sansa stood to Robb’s left, Arya on her right, and Bran was on hers. Jon and Theon were behind them – Theon was a Greyjoy, but Ned Stark’s ward. Jon was a Stark by blood…but not by name.

Shireen was bouncing on the tips of her toes in hopes that time would move faster. The days since her sister’s letter of her arrival moved so slowly, and she could hardly sleep a wink last night for this moment.

“Do you think she missed me?” she whispered to Rickon.

“Of course! Minnie loves you more than anything!” Rickon replied. “Even more than her own ship, I think.”

The loud creaks and groans of the aged wood crept closer and closer until the wheelhouse stopped in the courtyard’s center. The driver ensured the horses were calm and stable before leaping from his seat and opening the doors. A vision in a marigold silk tunic with trumpet sleeves and gold floral patterns paired with a gold belt around her waist. It was a shame that such finery was hidden underneath a thick wool cloak with a thick fur mantle. Her lustrous, flowing, jet-black tresses were bound with a green ribbon and golden stitching in a single braid trailing down her back. The pendant of her husband’s sigil hung down from a simple gold chain over her bosom.

Lady Měilíng Baratheon was the second wife of Stannis Baratheon and the mother of his only son. As she stepped down from the wheelhouse, she stepped on the dirt with such grace and poise that it seemed the Mother of the Seven had come instead of a highborn lord’s wife. A woman over forty years of age who still managed to get pregnant and carry a son to term – she looked far too young to be her age.  

A small boy who could not have been taller than Ned Stark’s knee shuffled behind her. It was the little lording, Steffard Baratheon, the only son of his father and second-in-line to inherit Dragonstone after his older sister, Shireen. He wore a fine coat from a stag’s hide and little shoes to protect his feet. Like his mother, he too wore a gold pendant of his father’s sigil hung from a simple chain. Despite being blessed with most of his mother’s soft features, he certainly inherited his father’s bright blue Baratheon eyes and inky-black curls.

Seeing the boy standing next to his mother, Ned felt a hundred years older than he was. Where had the time gone? He, Mei, and Robert were all children once – children involved in a war to decide the fate of a country for its future years. Ned had once pitied the YiTish girl for the hand she was dealt in life. As a foreigner, she should have had no part in Robert’s Rebellion, but she experienced loss and grief like the rest of them nonetheless.

And now, all three of them were leaders with their own children and carrying burdens on their shoulders that their children would inherit – how the years escaped them.

Měilíng searched for her young daughter and beamed when she found her. She nudged her little son and guided his eyes to his sister. His eyes lit up as he toddled to her, warming her heart. “希希 (XīXī)!” he exclaimed as Shireen ran towards him. Her arms were spread open as Steffard leaped into her arms and wrapped his arms around her neck. “I MISSED YOU SO MUCH!”

“I missed you too!” Shireen giggled as her body was flooded with her baby brother’s warmth.

Still locked in their reunion, the two young siblings spun in circles before falling on the ground in laughter. The scene loosened the tension as House Stark looked at the pair warmly.

When they stopped laughing, Shireen helped her brother as she looked at their mother. Mei’s smile shined as she squatted on the ground, balanced her body with her feet, and spread her arms wide open to greet her daughter. Shireen needed no instructions to race into her mother’s arms. A cocoon of love and happiness blanketed the young Baratheon girl as her face was dotted with pecks and kisses. She buried her face in the crook of her mother’s neck and breathed in her scent – her mother always smelled like the salty sea breeze of Dragonstone and peonies. To Shireen, it was as if she was transported home, and if she closed her eyes, she was back on the shores of the Dragonstone beaches, walking alongside Minnie.

“How are you, my little doe?” her mother asked as she tenderly stroked the back of her head. “Did you enjoy the books your sister and I sent you? Did you enjoy your lessons with Maester Luwin and Septa Morgane?”

Shireen answered her mother with a broad smile and starry eyes. “I am well, mother. I loved the books! But–” Shireen looked behind her mother to try to find her sister “–where is Minnie? Was she not in the wheelhouse with you and Steffard?”

Meiling shook her head as she laughed to herself. “Do not worry, little doe, your sister is here. But she is a little worse for wear after days in the wheelhouse.”

Their mother rose from her feet as her hands remained grasped with Shireen’s. She turned to the wheelhouse behind her and called out her daughter in the language of their homeland. “明阴 (Míng Yīn)! How long do you intend to keep your sister waiting?”

A weary and pained groan exited the horse-drawn transport in response. “Would you give me a minute? I’m a little busy trying not to die here!”

“You are not dying!” Měilíng scoffed. “How long do you want to keep Ned and his family waiting?”

“As soon as I’m done making sure I won’t shit or vomit my guts out! I don’t want to have to pay any additional fees for this torture device on wheels!”

“Do you need a brush for your hair?”

“NO!” A few moments passed. “OKAY! I’m good!”

The giant wooden box creaked as Shireen’s sister finally exited the wheelhouse, and she immediately breathed in the fresh air only found in the North. A young woman an entire head taller than Měilíng stepped into the light – despite the bags under her eyes and the slightly tired look on her face, she was every bit as beautiful and poised as her mother.

Míng Yīn was exactly how Ned Stark imagined her mother would have looked if Mei trained herself in combat and fighting as a child. Her dark almond-shaped eyes could either enchant a man enough to willingly give her his life or scare the souls of all her enemies. Her muscles grew and hardened after years of training under her biological father in Yi Ti before traveling around the world on open seas – fighting anyone who dared cross blades with her and leaving a trail of blood and corpses for fish to nibble on. Ned did not doubt that she would bankrupt his boys if they even dared to try and bet against her in combat.

Míng Yīn wore her hair in a half-up-down style with a part of her hair bound in a simple braid on the back of her head. Her outfit was more fitting of a sailor than a highborn noblewoman. She wore a mid-length dark blue wool robe with a silver border stitched on the hem and long sleeves. The robe was wrapped around her body in a way that left her neck, collarbones, and the slightest hint of her cleavage out in the open. The dark linen sash that held her sword and dagger further emphasized the curve of her hips and waist. The black leather breeches hugged her lower body, and the tall black leather boots highlighted the muscles of her calves.

A large black jaguar had quickly come outside the wheelhouse as well. Its pristine and shiny coat shone in the faint sunlight that bathed Winterfell. Without missing a beat, it promptly stood beside its mistress, scanning the new environment for any dangers that would risk his beloved mistress’ safety and well-being.

So, Míng had indeed brought Wu. Robb’s mother wouldn’t like that.

But unlike her mother and brother, Míng Yīn did not wear the sigil of her mother’s second husband’s house. On her neck and sitting on her breasts was a black jade pendant with a small dragon with a white eye carved into it hung from a red string. On each side of the pendant was a tiny Dragon’s Bloodstone bead.

Robb unconsciously straightened his posture at the sight of her. He felt himself release a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding until Ming came into view. Years’ worth of memories flooded his mind as she reached for her younger sister.

The young Baratheon girl launched herself in her sister’s arms. “Minnie! You’re here!”

Robb watched on the sidelines as Ming greeted Shireen with a dozen kisses for each month since they last saw one another. He wondered if she still smelled as cool and crisp as the ocean’s wind that blew through her hair. Or if her skin would taste as warm and bright as the sunshine soaking her skin while she stood on her ship’s dock on cloudless days.

He longed for a sample – anything would be enough.

When the two sisters parted, Wu gently lowered himself to nudge his head against Shireen. Loud purrs came from his throat as the young girl scratched that spot under his chin and stroked his back.

“Oh, Wu! You’ve become even more beautiful! Thank you for protecting Minnie!”

The beast preened at the attention. Míng Yīn was his mistress and savior and, therefore, his favorite. His eternal loyalty and love would forever belong to her. But if he had to choose a second favorite, it would belong to Shireen Baratheon – for she had the purest soul and kindest heart in all of the Seven Kingdoms.

Rickon could also not contain himself and joined his betrothed to embrace her sister. The sight of two small children clinging to the person who brought fear and awe to every sailor, sea merchant, and trading company from Westeros to Essos was both comical and heartwarming. A scene that became more comical was when Míng Yīn grabbed one child each and flung them on her shoulders as if they were small sacks of flour. Wu jumped on his hind legs to play as he licked their tiny hands.

Finally, Lady Měilíng of House Baratheon and her children brought themselves to stand before the Lord of the Winterfell and knelt with one knee on the ground in a show of respect. Ned told them to raise before bringing his old friend in a tight embrace.

When they parted, he gave her a look-down to take the sight of her in fully. “Gods, look at you. How many years has it been?"

Měilíng gave a kind smile in response. “I’d say almost two years – far shorter compared to when you’ve last seen Robert.”

“How is Robert in King’s Landing? Is he working Stannis to the ground?”

Měilíng huffed in annoyance at the mention of her brother-in-law’s name. “Oh, of course. The man’s too stupid and fat to do anything else but order his brother, my husband, and his Hand to run his kingdom while he eats, drinks, and whores himself to ruin.”

Everyone apart from Ned widened their eyes in shock at the woman’s words. Did she not fear for her head? Was it alright if the wife of the King’s brother said such things of him? But Mei only turned to Ned’s wife as she bowed in respect for Lady Stark.

“Lady Stark,” she spoke in a clear and calm voice. “On behalf of my husband and House Baratheon, I humbly thank you for opening your home to allow my daughter to stay with your children this past year. Your generosity was further extended to allow room for my family’s visit. I cannot imagine the stress my eldest daughter gave you when her letter stated that we would be here in less than two weeks.”

Catelyn bowed her head in response. “Think nothing of it, my lady. Lady Shireen Baratheon had been our home's most polite and wonderful guest. I am grateful you and your husband sent her to my family’s home to host her. She had quickly become my youngest son’s most favorite playmate.”

Měilíng smiled at the woman’s words. She then turned to the Stark children before greeting each and every one of them. She marveled at how tall and handsome Robb had become since childhood. She softly whispered in his ear if he were hopeful that his sparring skills improved enough to beat her daughter. Seeing him sputtering and pale skin blushing made a very amusing scene. When she came across Sansa, she gasped and held the girl’s hands in her own.

“Oh, Sansa!” she exclaimed. “Look at you! You’ve grown so beautiful and tall since I last saw you. I thought you were a princess! And your cloak – tell me, did you do the stitching?”

Sansa softly giggled as she blushed from the praise. “Yes, Lady Baratheon. I’ve improved a lot in my stitching and needlework since you last saw me – I’m sure I could even make you something, if you’d like.”

Měilíng put a gentle palm on the girl’s cheek. “I would love nothing more. Perhaps you would even convince my eldest to practice her needlework. Or even try to persuade her to stop wearing breeches and trousers when she’s not at sea.”

“Never going to happen, Mother,” interjected Míng Yīn, who had finally put Shireen and Rickon on the ground after greeting Lord and Lady Stark. “I do enough needlework on my own. Thank you very much.”

Míng Yīn’s mother turned to her daughter in exasperation. “The only time you practiced as a child for needlework was to sew wounds close after training with your father.”

“…Yeah, exactly,” Míng Yīn nodded with a slight shrug and a blank expression. “What more needlework skills are necessary after that?”

“Minnie!” shouted Arya and Bran as they both made their way to crowd the woman. After exchanging warm greetings and kind words, the most essential questions came from the younger Stark daughter’s mouth.

“Did you bring gifts?” she asked in an eager tone.

“Arya!” exclaimed her sister and mother. Both women’s faces turned red at Arya’s impoliteness as Ned and his friend only laughed at the girl’s bluntness.

Míng Yīn stroked her chin as if deep in thought. “Did I bring gifts? Huh…I wonder…that doesn’t sound like something I’d do. Is it?”

Bran jumped like a child of four after eating too much sugar. “You did! Can we see them? Please?” He turned to his father with pleading eyes.

Ned slightly shook his head. “Come on now, Bran. Let our guests first get settled in their rooms. Judging from Lady Minna’s expression, she could do for a bit of rest.”

“But after they get settled, can they give us the presents?” Rickon sweetly asked while holding Steffard’s hand on one side while Shireen held the other as they placed the baby on Wu’s back.

His mother answered as she softly stroked his head. “After they rest for a bit, then we will have supper. The cooks prepared a feast for our guests’ arrival. There will be plenty of time tomorrow.”

Even Sansa deflated a bit with her younger siblings that they couldn’t receive their presents sooner rather than later.

Míng Yīn grabbed Shireen by the back of her cloak before placing her sister on her back. Shireen was a bit shocked before she giggled at the display of her sister’s open affection and wrapped her arms around her neck as Míng Yīn looped her arms around her little legs.

“Anyone been doing this for you while I’ve been gone?” she smirked.

Shireen responded with glee. “No! I only like you doing these!”

As Robb watched his parents and sister walk off with Lady Meiling and Steffard, he figured now was as good a time as any to approach Ming. Shireen jumped off her back to her mother’s side to try and hold her brother the rest of the way to their rooms.

“Ming!” he called out. He felt his palms grow sweaty when she turned around in his direction.

He walked towards her with long, confident strides. He thought he looked intimidating, but he realized that wasn’t the case when she burst out laughing. The young lord’s ears burned at her reaction, and they only grew hotter when he heard Theon and Jon snickering behind him.

She only stopped laughing long enough to gasp out a response. “What’s with that face? You look like you swallowed a lemon!”

…Fuck, what was Robb to say in response to that? He had to be smart about this. He would not make a fool of himself. He tried his best not to stare at the jaguar staring at him with hollow eyes.

“…I’m finally taller than you,” he dumbly stated.

“Shit,” was the only echoing in Robb’s mind as he heard Jon and Theon loudly guffawed as they heard him.

He didn’t have to look behind him to know that the bastards collapsed on the ground, gasping for air.

But Míng Yīn only walked toward him while Wu did not come any closer before stopping a few feet away as she traced her eyes over his face and down his form. He saw her dark eyes crinkle with appreciation as a sweet smile spread. She snorted out through her nose as she stepped even closer until only a few inches of air were between them. Wu still hadn’t moved, but he was staring more intensely than before, and Robb wondered if his death would be from a jaguar clawing out his throat.

“Yes,” she whispered as her eyes darted to his lips. “You’re much taller now.”

Blue met black as only the noises came from their parents walking farther and farther away. Their growing distance made the space between them seem more like a separate reality. One where it was only the two of them and no one else. Robb’s eyes quickly glanced down to Ming’s lips, and his Adam’s apple bobbed at the thought of them around his cock.

But that bubble burst when Míng Yīn bumped her fist into Robb’s chest and backed away with a cheeky grin and mischievous eyes.

“笨蛋 (Bèndàn), I’m still going to kick your ass in the courtyard, though.” She turned to Wu before walking. “Come on, 无牙 (Wú yá)! Let’s catch up to 小希 (Xiǎo xī )! I want to take a bath before dinner.” She turned to walk back to her family and called out to him without looking back. “You’ll always be a hundred years too early to beat me in a fight!”

Robb only stood in a daze as he watched her walk away. When Theon slapped his back, he finally came to and saw that Jon was beside him.

Theon snickered at the glare his friend gave him. “Stare at her ass any longer, and I’ll think you’ve become more scarecrow than wolf. Plus, I think the cat can sense your eyes.”

Robb only shrugged. “It’s a good ass to stare at.”

“It’s a great ass to stare at. That doesn’t make you look less stupid.”

“Can we stop talking about Ming’s backside?” Jon begged. He didn’t like talking about their friend in such a disrespectful manner, and he liked the idea of Wu tearing out their throats even less. “Let’s get back to sparring with Rodrick before the feast.”

Another reason to adore Míng Yīn – she hated it when Jon wasn’t included in the feasts while she was staying at Winterfell. The feast of her first coming to Winterfell with her mother was marked mainly by how she walked out of the Great Hall and returned with Jon. She dragged him by the wrist before seating him right next to her at the table.

Jon was terrified Lady Stark would berate his new friend for deliberately bringing the bastard to the feast. But all that came was a stare-down between the Lady Stark and Ming Yin. Lady Stark’s face was red with embarrassment, and she stared down at the girl with the most terrifying look Jon had ever seen. Just remembering the expression gave chills down his spine.

But Ming refused to back down. She unblinkingly returned the lady’s stare with her own, and it was as if a silent war had broken out. Ming wasn’t afraid of the red-haired fish with crow’s feet under her eyes. A wolf by marriage was hardly a wolf at all. She wasn’t going to be beaten in a battle of wills – not then, not ever.

Ned sat by his wife, wondering if Mei would bring war to his feet if his wife killed her beloved daughter. Meiling sat beside Lady Stark in rapt interest for the events unfolding. She always loved it when her little goblin decided to enact her idea of justice. She loved it even more when she took charge.

After what seemed like hours, Lady Stark conceded to the girl as she returned to her meal. Ming turned to Jon with bright stars in her clever eyes.

“Didn’t I tell you?” she asked with a broad smile. “I’m invincible.”

Since then, Jon has always included every time a feast was held for the YiTish women. An act of genuine kindness that was appreciated by all of Jon’s siblings and his father.

An act that only deepened the infatuation of a confident young wolf with dark auburn curls and bright blue eyes.

An infatuation that the Gods saw morph into obsession as they felt shivers course through their divine forms in anticipation of the future ahead.

*Additional Notes:

The characters from Yi Ti and other countries in this stories will different ways of how they are referred

Míng Yīn's Nicknames and Who uses them:

Ming - Robb, Theon, Jon, Sansa, and Catelyn Stark

Minna - Ned (he is the only one allowed)

Míng Yīn - Luwin

Minnie - Shireen, Rickon, Arya, Bran

Měilíng's Nicknames and Who uses them:

Mei - Robert, Ned, Renly, and Stannis

Translations:

希希 (XīXī) - Hope Hope; 希 means "hope"; Shireen's name in Chinese is written as 希琳 (Xī lín), in which 希 means "hope," and 琳 means "forest." Because Steffard is a baby who grew up hearing Yi Tish and Westerosi Common, it makes sense he would refer to Shireen with a nickname.

小希 (Xiǎo xī ) - Little Hope; another nickname for Shireen, but specifically from her older sister. Míng Yīn is a girl who is thousands of miles away from her hometown, Wan, in Yi Ti. When her mother married Stannis, she had to leave everyone she ever loved, including her older brother. But seeing baby Shireen have her hope that everything would turn out for the better.

明阴 (Míng Yīn) - 明 means "bright," and 阴 is the character used for "yin" in the Chinese philosophy of "yin and yang". The character's direct translation is "negative," but it is also used to describe "femininity, moon, water, and earth" as it represents the female principle of the universe

笨蛋 (Bèndàn) - Fool or dumbass; 笨 means "fool," while 蛋 means "egg." Technically, the direct translation is "foolish egg," but most people will use it to call someone an idiot.

无牙 (Wú yá) - toothless; 无 means "none," while 牙 means "tooth"; Míng Yīn named him this because when she first found him as a cub, he didn't have any teeth.

杀手 (Shāshǒu) - killer; this is Shadow's actual name; Shadow is a Peregrine Falcon

Tagging: @succnfuccubus, @valeskafics, @arcielee, @anya-snow, @asa-do-your-thing, @aphroditesmoon, @jamera-ash, @lillian-morningstar, @strangedragonqueen, @writingsofwesteros, @a-libra-writes, @leonkennedyslefthand, @dreaming-for-an-escape, @hd-junglebook, @what-the--curtains, @axelsagewrites

[countrymusiclover]

31 - The Stag King

Part 32

The Last Velaryon

Tag list @rise-my-angel @cdragons @kmc1989 @starkleila @1not-today-satan1

Chezney’s pov

The road in front of me seemed to be mirring together and I couldn’t count how many moons it had been since we had left the camp heading onward to meet the youngest Baratheon brother Renly. Swinging my legs that hung on either side of the horse saddle I was seated on I eyed Lady Stark who was riding beside me. “You’ve been rather quiet, Lady Stark.”

“I haven’t had anything important to speak about, Lady Ally.” She responded with a stern voice.

I turned my head slightly to meet her gaze. “I’m not a lady. My mother was a handmaiden to my best friend's mother until she died in her birthing bed. After that my mother took it upon herself to raise me and my best friend regardless of our different stature.”

“You’re mother sounds like a much better woman than I myself was.” Lady Stark mumbled under her breath, still staring at the road ahead of us.

Biting my lip I could feel there was something she wasn’t telling me and so I reluctantly pressed on to know more. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean, my lady.”

“Years ago one of the boys came down with the Pocks. Maester Lewin said if he made it through the night he’d live. But it would be a very long night. So I sat with him all through the darkness, listening to his ragged little breaths, his coughing, his whimpering.” Lady Stark began speaking tugging the reins of her horse so he’d walk slowly allowing us to have a better conversation with one another.

I assumed she was thinking about her eldest Robb yet nonetheless the question came from my lips. “Which boy was this?”

“Jon Snow.” She simply replied.

Thinking for a moment I didn’t recall much of the man she had named. I didn’t remember seeing him at the kings feast so long ago. I only can recall his features from when Haelesa was telling me about him the morning we were leaving on the Kingsroad. “He’s the one who was going to serve in the Night's Watch right. The one with black curly hair.”

She softly nodded her head yes finally sparing me a glance before continuing her story. “When my husband brought that baby home from the war I couldn’t bare to look at him. I didn’t want to see those brown strangers eyes staring off at me. So I prayed to the Gods to take him away, make him die. He got the Pocks. And I knew I was the worst woman who ever lived. A murder. I’d condemned this poor innocent child to a horrible death all because I was jealous of his mother - a woman he didn’t even know.”

“So what happened after that?” I asked her, feeling my eyes tearing up at the thought.

Lady Stark whipped away some fallen tears. “I prayed to all Seven Gods. Let the boy live, let him live and I’ll love him. I’ll be a mother to him. I’ll beg my husband to give him a true name, to call him Stark and be done with it. To make him one of us.”

“Then it must have worked since Haelesa told me that she had talked with Robb about him before we headed to Kings Landing.”

“He did live but…” She trailed off looking at her hands for a brief moment of time. “I couldn’t keep my promise. And everything that’s happened since then, all this horror that has come to my family. It’s all because I couldn’t love a motherless child.”

Biting my lip I ran my fingers through my hair just letting the sounds of nature surround us for a few long minutes. I always assumed that my mother was just like all mothers who would take in other children that weren't their own. Except I was wrong, not every mother was like her. “If that’s how you feel about Jon, how exactly do you feel about my best friend being married to your son if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I must admit, Lady Ally-“

Putting a hand over my heart I cut her off shortly. “Please just call me Chezney, Lady Stark.”

“I’ll do my best to remember your request.” She clicked her tongue meeting my soft gaze with her grey eyes. “I didn’t care much for her because of who she was betrothed to, the Kingslayer.”

Tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear I muttered back. “She didn't wish to marry Jaime Lannister either. I'm just sorry we've made this war an added stress by her falling for your son.”

“It's not that I don't want him to be happy. It's just - I found a way to love the man I was wed off to when I was your age. But I suppose I must remember not everyone was raised to be like Ned was.”

My horse paused to a stop allowing me to touch her hand closest to mine. “You raised your son well from what I've seen. He truly cares for my best friend.”

“That warms my heart as a mother. Would you take some advice from a widowed noble woman, Chezney?”

I simply responded. “Of course, my lady.”

“Renly Baratheon is very much like his elder Robert was. From what I’ve heard throughout the years he is very arrogant and cares about his outward appearance. Given the fact that we are here to represent my son and your friend I’d be mindful of your words. Keep our strategies to yourself but come off as very welcoming too.”

“Thank you, Lady Stark. I appreciate the advice.” I sent her a soft smile.

Lady Stark reached for my hand intertwining my fingers with hers, sending me a weak smile that crossed her lips when she spoke back. “Call me Catelyn. We are family after all since you and your friend are more like sisters than anything else.”

“We’re nearing the Baratheon camp, my ladies. Follow my lead. I’ll escort you inside the camp.” Brienne suddenly rode up beside me grabbing our attention before riding forward on her horse. Kicking my horse in the stomach I followed her tail with Catelyn following after me.

Entering the camp walls the three of us dismounted our horses being greeted by a knight with a Baratheon sigil on his chest plate. “My ladies, I am here to escort you to his grace.”

“Lead the way then, Ser Knight.” I nodded my head towards the knight when he turned on his heels and walked for a good time till we stopped at a crowd gathered around two people sitting on separate wooden throne chairs. The knight stepped into the middle of the circle once the crowd had separated and allowed us to walk forward. “Your grace, I have the honor to bring you Lady Catelyn Stark and Chezney Ally, sent an envoy by her son Robb, Lord of Winterfell.”

“Lord of Winterfell and King in the North.” Catelyn corrected the man’s introduction of us.

The man I knew had to be Renly Baratheon spoke first. “Lady Catelyn, I’m pleased to see you. May I present my wife Lady Margaery of House Tyrell.” He sat in his chair wearing golden armor and a golden crown sat upon his head which was in contrast to his Raven black hair.

“You are very welcome here, Lady Stark. I'm so sorry for your loss.” Margarey responded with a weak expression. The woman had light brown hair and was wearing a light blue gown.

Catelyn nodded in thanks. “You are most kind.”

“My Lady, I swear to you I will see the Lannisters answer for your husband's murder. When I take King's Landing, I'll bring you Joffrey's head.” Renly’s words of clear arrogance made all the men in his army to cheer loudly.

Catelyn clasped her hands together in front of the two nobles. “It will be enough to know that justice was done, My Lord.”

“Forgive me for asking but what noble house do you belong to Lady Chezney. I must admit I am not familiar with House Ally.” Renly’s wife shifted her gaze over to me seeing I was silently almost standing behind the Northern woman.

I bowed my head addressing the two before me with the best quick curtsy I could but I nearly stumbled over my own two feet. I blushed hearing some laughs behind me when I had regained my balance. “My lord, my lady. I must confess I am born of noble blood. My mother was a lady- in- waiting for my best friend and Robb Stark’s wife Haelesa Velaryon. Uh - oh I’m sorry - forgive me I’m not used to the noble addressing of lords and ladies.”

“There's no need for that. You and Lady Stark are honored guests.” Renly sent the two of us a genuine grin not bothered by the fact that I couldn’t do a proper curtsy.

Margaery’s brother suddenly questioned the former Lady of Winterfell. “Has your son marched against Tywin Lannister yet?”

“I do not sit on my son's war councils. And if I did, I would not share his strategies with you.” Catelyn snapped back slightly, not turning around to address the young lord's question.

Loras Tyrell growled back, finding her response insulting. “If Robb Stark wants a pact with us, he should come himself, not hide behind his mother's skirts.”

“My son is fighting a war, not playing at one.” I lightly smirked at her sharp response.

Renly rose from his chair coming down the steps to loop his arm with hers. He glanced over his shoulder calling to his wife and I. “Don't worry, My Lady. Our war is just beginning. Dear wife, show Lady Chezney around the camp would you.”

“Of course, my King.” The girl picked up her skirts coming down to meet me. She dropped the fabric of her dress offering me her hand with a kind grin. “Shall we walk to my tent, Chezney.”

Placing my hand in hers I prayed that we could make a good arrangement with these people to win the war. “I shall follow you, Lady Margaery.”

[blissfulphilospher]

Jaime wants to kill Robert.

Elia wants to kill Lyanna.

Eddard Stark dies like always.

And other poor Stark's because of poor choices except Sansa.

Purple Wedding and the king dies.

Aegon wants Shireen.

Stannis want Iron Throne.

Viserys wants Dragonstone.

Margaery and Sansa get Cersei's perfect twins.

Much short snippets of plot worth seven books because I wanted the story like that.

I could have write whole chapters but they didn't fell right.

[wardenparker]

The Viper’s Bride - ch 1

Oberyn Martell x female reader x Ellaria Sand x OC Co-written with @absurdthirst​

The second Prince of Dorne has lived under the illusion that he would not be forced to wed for his entire life. He has enough lovers and illegitimate children to make him a legend across Westeros, and the love of his soulmate Ellaria Sand to content him. But a contract between his brother and a lord from the north will catapult him into a match that may prove to be as complicated as it is intriguing. Especially when he learns that you already have a soulmate of your own.

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 9.9k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: terrible parents, age gap 10+ years, arranged marriage, classicism, cursing, food and alcohol* A slap! Mentions of menstruation, fleeting mention of a suicidal thought, threats of violence, bathing, so much foreplay, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, fingering (anal), MM coupling, MMF threesome, anal sex, oral sex (f giving and receiving), FF coupling, technically this is an orgy. Summary: Upon receiving news of your arranged betrothal, both you and Prince Oberyn of Dorne make your ways to the Red Keep for King Joffrey’s impending nuptials. However, his arrival to the city is significantly more playful than yours. Notes: Welcome to soulmate story number seven! This summer we are getting hot and heavy in Westeros with everybody’s favourite promiscuous prince. Buckle up, my darlings, because this one gets spicy right off the bat 👑💖

Oberyn frowns slightly as the oil slicked hands of the servant press into the arches and joints of Doran’s feet, making his older brother hiss in pain. It must be a harsh day for him, his wheeled chair a near constant as it is now too painful for him to walk even short distances. A far cry from the hale and hearty brother he had grown up with as the youngest of the Martell princes. He knows the oil is warmed, the scent of eucalyptus and mint filling the air as it is worked into the skin, hopefully providing some relief. “I can come back, brother. Let you rest.”

“This is important.” Doran insists, not dismissing either man from his presence. His own discomfort is a stark reminder of the sacrifices that must be made for the throne of Dorne. “You know the Baratheon boy is to marry.” The fact that King Joffrey’s mother is a Lannister makes him an unsavory topic between the Martell brothers, even as Marcella Baratheon plays in the water gardens a mere thirty yards away.

Stiffening instantaneously for a moment before he forces his body to relax, Oberyn despised the mention of anything to do with the Lannisters, including that bastard on the throne. Everyone knows the rumors and with the golden mane of the boy and the tales of evils he has done, he’s inclined to believe it. “Gods be praised.” He murmurs sarcastically, reaching for the carafe of wine and the spare goblet that had obviously been left in anticipation of his visit with the elder prince. “What poor girl is marrying that…king?”

“Margaery Tyrell.” The elder prince huffs derisively before leveling his younger brother with a serious gaze. “You are to attend the wedding in my stead.”

Rolling his eyes, Oberyn sighs heavily. It will be two weeks of hard traveling to reach King’s Landing. All for a wedding he does not wish to attend. “I will extend the Martell family’s feelings.”

"You will be gracious and accommodating." Doran warns, knowing that the Martell family's true feelings are not appropriate in any way to be expressed at a wedding. "There will be some other business for you to attend to in King's Landing which is far more important."

“Yes, there is that wonderful brothel down in Flea Bottom.” Oberyn muses, grinning at the idea of bringing Ellaria there. The last time he had come, it had been two years before he had met her.

"Oberyn." His brother's voice has a warning tone to it. "I beg you not to waste your time in brothels on this trip no matter how enjoyable a pastime it may be. There is someone you need to meet."

He snorts and shakes his head. “I have no interest in meeting boring nobles with their equally boring wives.” He tells him. “I’ll be with Ellaria anyway.”

"No, you won't." Doran jerks away from his servant in frustration and turns to fully face Oberyn. "I will not have that woman jeopardize the contract I have signed when the ink is barely dry. Leave her home, Oberyn. She will be here with open legs when you return."

Oberyn’s brow arches up dramatically. Doran has never had issue with Ellaria, even counting her as a confidant in his absence. She is the mother of four of his children and a member of the family despite there being no vows between them. His soulmate. “What contract?” He growls.

"Leave." He hisses at the young man who was tending to him and he backs off immediately, taking the pot of oil back into the interior of the palace as fast as his feet can carry him. "It was time, Oberyn," he intones seriously. "Far past time, but I have let you have your freedom as long as I was able."

“Let me have my freedom?” His hackles rise and his eyes narrow. “I have my freedom because I wish it.” He reminds his brother. “I am not the head of the Martells like you, and you have your heir.”

"I have one heir." Doran bristles, but the raised tension between the brothers is his own fault. A product of the tension and pain he was already feeling today. "If anything should happen to Trystane, it will be you on the throne. And though I have great love for my nieces, none of them can be a princess."

“Our house will endure like it always has.” Oberyn snorts, dismissing Doran’s concern. “If the time comes, I will marry Ellaria and claim my Sand Snakes as legitimate.” He takes a long sip of his wine, humming at the delightfully floral note.

"The chance for that has passed." It is Doran's turn to be dismissive, sitting back again in his wheeled chair and adjusting a cushion under his arm. "Your objections to marriage have been noted, brother, but it is time to make a respectable husband of you. Ellaria will understand. She is an intelligent woman, and I'm sure would not abandon you as your mistress." Oberyn prefers the term paramour, and though it is accurate now, it will be more complicated once things are settled.

“Brother, what have you done?” Oberyn demands, slamming his goblet down onto the table.

"You know exactly what I have done." There is no chance, in his mind, that Oberyn has not deduced that a marriage contract has been signed, but Doran still sighs heavily. "She is the only daughter of a noble family. The father let her go without a match for some time while her brothers all married, but her portrait is beautiful and he assures me that she is accomplished." Reaching for the wine glass that Oberyn has rejected, Doran takes a gulp rather than a sip. "And she has no marks, blessedly."

“The agreement was my soulmate or no one.” Oberyn hisses, his gaze turning withering. “I will not marry some cow faced northerner.”

"Every place is northern to Dorne," Doran waves one hand dismissively and sets the wine glass back down on the table between them. "The contract is signed, Oberyn. You will not make a liar or a fool of your brother by denying it, and I am not going to try to force you to spend time with the girl or even like her. But you will marry her and produce a legitimate heir." The contract is full of terms to be adhered to, and the fairly enormous size of the girl's dowry includes access to trade routes that will greatly benefit the people of Dorne. There is no downside to this arrangement in Doran's mind, aside from having to have this discussion with his brother.

Oberyn’s lips press together in a firm line and his chair scrapes back as he stands. “Then you fuck the girl.” He hisses. “For I will not be gracing her bed.” Turning on his heel, the prince storms away before he loses his infamous temper.

Doran breathes a sigh, reaching for the goblet again to drown his frustrations in the wine that his maester has instructed him to avoid when he is in pain. "Fuck it," he grumbles harshly. Oberyn is going to make his life a living hell anyway, he may as well be drunk for it.

******

“Marriage!” Oberyn scoffs angrily, pacing in front of the lounge where his paramour is currently sprawled. “As if I am some fresh-faced maiden. How dare he sign a contract on my behalf!”

"I smell Mellario behind it," Ellaria admits, watching him pace back and forth like a caged beast. Oberyn had come careening back into his chamber like a sandstorm and now he was seething. "Doran has never had issue with your arrangement before now, and suddenly he is concerned about heirs? I would not be surprised if her change has come."

“Or he cannot get his cock to rise.” Oberyn winces at the idea of his own cock not working, but with his brother’s declining health, he would not rule it out. “I will not do it.” He decides. “We will leave for Braavos if he decides to push the issue.”

"My love," Ellaria sits up, shaking her head. "If you leave here, I would follow. You know this. But you would still have four daughters you would not be able to see and we both know that would break your heart." His children are the most important thing in the world to Oberyn – everyone knows this – and Doran would certainly use them as a punishment for insubordination. "Exile is no choice, Oberyn. Even self-imposed."

Pausing mid-stride, his robes swish around his legs as he turns to stare at the woman who had been with him and by his side for nearly twenty years. “You would have me entertain this idea?” He demands, surprised she would consider this.

“I would not have you be less of a man than you are.” For all her complexities, Ellaria Sand is not the temptress or the snake that some make her out to be. Her genuine love for Oberyn is rooted in as much respect as it is passion, and their four daughters currently have a father that they can look up to as a good and wise man. “What is the worst this girl could be?” She poses the question carefully as he shifts his weight anxiously in front of her, and she folds her hands in her lap. “Ugly? That is not her fault. The sun and good company can make anyone more beautiful. Cruel? Doran has already said you do not have to spend much time with her. Or perhaps childish? Spoiled? Then you treat her like a child and send her to her chamber without a treat if she misbehaves.” There is anger in his face, which Ellaria hates to see, but she tries to be encouraging. Motherhood has taught her that encouragement can be a balm on almost any wound. “So you would be married. What does that signify? Nothing in so far as you and I are concerned. You are still my soulmate, my love. And the father of my children. She cannot change that.”

“You are my sun.” Oberyn reaches down and takes his lover’s hand to draw her to her feet. Pulling her against his body, his broad hand covers the small scar on her side, a knife wound that he had earned in the fighting pits. “My world.” He promises, leaning in and pressing his lips to hers in a passionate kiss, trying to rid himself of the idea of tying himself to another. Ellaria is his soulmate, which is why he had said that he would only marry the woman who bears his marks.

"And no one will ever change that." She vows just as solemnly, giving herself over to the kiss without restraint. There are parts of his world that she does not stray into, or they would have fought with Doran for the right to marry years ago. The elder Martell brother may not mind her as Prince Oberyn's paramour, but she is not what he would envision for a princess of Dorne, nor does Ellaria particularly want such a title. For Oberyn she might have borne the duty of it all, but he never asked that of her and she was grateful. Now, whoever this girl is that is being thrust into their life will bear that burden instead. Ellaria does not envy her the responsibility.

******

“My love, you must calm yourself.” Within the walls of your chambers, Raeden Stone knows that the two of you are safe. Your maid will not interrupt unless necessary and she is sworn to protect your happiness and well-being above everything else, including your parents. “Stop.” Striding across the room, the sword at his side clanks as he grabs your hands filled with dresses, and takes them from you. “We cannot flee under the cover of darkness like we are thieves escaping the sword.” He knows that if he is caught, he will be killed or sent to the Wall as well.

"I won't do it." The very idea is offensive, leaving the taste of burnt crumbs in your mouth and the feeling of insects crawling on your skin, so that even with Raeden clutching your hand all you can think of is being rid of the horrible sensation. This whole horrible situation. Your eyes are already red from tears, their dried tracks left on your cheeks and down your neck, yet still more threaten to spill over as he holds you still. "I won't marry a stranger and move halfway across the world. I won't leave you behind!"

“You will not need to leave me.” Setting the clothes down on the trunk that is meant to be packed for your journey to King’s Landing and then to Dorne, he cups your cheeks. “I will pledge to accompany you.” He promises, his dark eyes boring into yours. His heart aches but he had known this day would eventually come. “I will ride into all seven hells if need be to stay beside you.”

"Why can we not just tell them?" Your smaller hands wrap around his long fingers, holding tight to him as though he might disappear if you let go. "To marry my soulmate should not be such a shocking thing to do, surely?" Having gone over and over it in their time together, you know why. Status. For a young noble woman to marry a bastard of no consequence, soulmate or otherwise, would be unacceptable in any part of Westeros.

“I have no name to offer you, other than Stone.” Raeden reminds you, aware of his station. He had only become a trusted member of your guard when he had risked his life for you nearly three winters ago. No one knew of the shared marks on your skin. No one could know. “No coin, no land, no future.”

"I could be your future." The argument is an old one. Aged and worn like the stones in your floor. The fact that you would abandon your station and your family for him is moot now that your father has sold you. "Three brothers married wealthy wives and yet I am the sacrificial lamb to be offered up to the lecherous second prince of Dorne." The stories of the man's temperament and deeds preceded him, of course. Lusty and vengeful, the second son of House Martell was to be feared never spoken of above a whisper in polite company. And now you have to marry him?

“I have heard he is handsome.” Despite his own heart aching at the thought of another touching you, he has to make this seem like a good thing. “They say he will treat any in his bed respectfully.”

"He could be the most handsome man in all of Dorne and he would still not be as handsome as you." Soulful eyes the color of chestnut shells, plush lips, and a perpetually mischievous smile when he’s pleased, there is no one more handsome than Ser Raeden Stone. Firm muscles and an impressive strength make him as formidable on the battlefield as they do in the bedroom - a fact which you have kept mum about for years now. Raeden's broad frame and towering height envelope you fully when you wrap your arms around his waist and bury your face in his chest to muffle a sob. "I will never lay with him. Or love him. Not as long as I live."

“You will be his wife.” He swallows as he says those words. “You will bear his children, love or not. And I will protect you.” It will be his own special kind of hell, watching you grow with a child that is not his, marry a man who is not him. “You must not tell him, love.”

"How can you be so calm?" You demand, looking up at him with fear and hurt swimming in your eyes. "My father is sentencing me to stand at the side of another man and you...my love, I cannot believe you are accepting of this?"

“I have no choice but to accept it.” His voice hardens slightly. “If we try to run away together, we will be caught. I will be killed or sent to the Wall.” It rankles, but he had known that one day you would be married off. “I cannot protect you if I am dead or taken the oath.” He growls, shaking his head and leaning in to press his forehead against yours. “I cannot risk leaving you alone.”

"Only cruel gods would have given us to each other as soulmates without ever intending to allow our love." It is an unfairness of life that you have lamented more than once, but right now it feels as though a dagger has been plunged through your heart and twisted violently.

“The gods know of our love.” Raeden knows it, sighing softly. “We are together and we will still be together.” He kisses you softly. “I spend more nights in your bed than my own. It will be the same in Dorne.”

"I will not allow it to be any other way." Despite the fear of the unknown, the thing that you can cling to is the strength of your feelings for Raeden Stone. Since the day he arrived rather triumphantly in your life, he has been a constant and welcome presence and you will not allow any power to steal your soulmate from your side. "No prince from Dorne will ever keep you from my arms."

“There is my girl.” Raeden smiles, happy that you are calm again and he presses closer to you. “Now…do you wish that I take your mind off your worries?” He coos softly.

“I always wish for you.” Though time is precious now, as you leave for King’s Landing in just three days and the road is no place for a romantic interlude. Raeden will not even be allowed to ride in your carriage during the journey. His place as your guard demands that he protect you, not indulge in you. Although he is fully capable of doing both.

The grin that you have said melts you flashes across his face and he pulls back so he can remove his belt and sword. “Then let me make you forget about Dorne, forget about marriage and only think of me.”

******

The painstaking journey feels ludicrous, and your weary mother certainly has not made it any easier with her complaining. The decision for your parents to accompany you was entirely your father’s and even then it was only so that he could brag to his small group of friends that he attended the king’s wedding. If this were only about delivering you to your groom, he would have sent you with your guard and your maid and thought no further on it. As it is, you have spent every day sitting beside your mother’s lady’s maid in the cramped and uncomfortable carriage praying that you might get even ten minutes alone with Raeden before the end of the day. It has hardly happened, and you have found yourself near tears rather constantly. Ignorant man that your father is, he imagines you so delirious with joy that you are weeping for your good fortune. The truth could not be further away.

“Do not fret.” Your mother assures you softly. “We have long had daughters marry in Dorne or Dornish brides sent to us.” She reminds you. “While most will look their noses down at a Dornish man, we know he will treat you well.”

“I still do not see why this marriage is even necessary.” And since no one has offered you any sort of explanation, you’re inclined to just ask. “My brothers married wealthy women. We do not need the favour of House Martell. So I am forced to wonder again why I am being offered to them in sacrifice.”

“Change is coming to Westeros.” Your mother leans in, her words quiet and fervent. “Dorne is the last kingdom that still has royalty. You will not just be a lady, you will a princess.”

"I do not want to be a princess." You inform her flatly, ignoring the way her lady's laid looks aghast at your ingratitude. "My own maid had more freedom than I do. At least someone asked her if she wanted to be shipped south like chattel. And she was even able to say no!" Though Clarey had served you since you came of age, your own maid had been able to marry her soulmate and had recently discovered she was with child. Your father had considered himself quite magnanimous for not breaking up that family to send her to Dorne with you.

“You would have your father break his contract with Dorne?” Your mother asks, appalled at the mere idea. “You were born into a noble house. You have grown up knowing your father would arrange a marriage for you. Most are married at seventeen.” She clicks her tongue in disappointment that you are forever ungrateful for the time your father had allowed you to remain unwed. If you only knew the rumors that had swirled.

"If you always planned to marry me against my will then I wonder that you waited so long." Staring out of the carriage window, you can see Raeden up ahead, face drawn in concentration as he keeps constant vigilance over the route you are traveling. "Why not have signed me away to the Starks when I was born?" The bitterness in your voice is obvious. "Then I would have been a queen."

“You will watch your sharp tongue, or you shall be sent to your room without dinner.” Your mother hisses, sitting back and shaking her head. “Your father wanted to hold out hope for a soulmate.”

"I am not a child, as you so love to point out when it is convenient to you." The threat of no dinner is nothing when you have no appetite to begin with. It would be a blessing not to be stared at over a meager meal. "And you can hardly send me to my room when I haven't one. We will not even arrive in King's Landing before first light tomorrow."

Your mother’s hand strikes out, slapping your cheek with a sharp crack. “You will not shame your father and house.” She hisses. “I have long begged your father to marry you off, to stop giving into your childish notions, but no more. You will marry Oberyn Martell.”

If the impulse to cup your own cheek was present, you don’t give in to it, not wanting to show the satisfaction of acknowledging that she has caused you pain of any kind. At the moment all you can really think is that it is good Raeden did not witness your mother striking you, or he may have given himself away with his reaction. “At least in Dorne I will never again be forced to breathe the same odious air you have exhaled.” No one in all of Westeros could ever have mistaken your mother for your ally if they saw you interact in private – it is only her sickly sweet countenance in public that made others think that she had babied or favoured you in any way. More than once in your life you’ve wondered how such a hateful woman could even grow a babe let alone birth four of them.

“You will learn your place soon enough.” She promises you. “You are a woman, not a man.” Her disappointment in you pours off of her in waves. “Be thankful your father did not choose a fat, aging lord.”

“Fat and aging means he would die faster.” At least antagonizing your mother is passing the time, you decide, staring straight ahead at the pompous boil of a woman who has lorded herself over you for the last twenty-five years. “I think I would do very well as a widow.”

“I wonder if your bravery would falter learning that your guard will not be staying with you.” The sly, evil menace in your mother’s voice is clear.

“Of course he will.” Brazen confidence is the tone which drowns out your panicked fear, and you tell yourself not to look outside and give yourself away. That could ruin everything in less than one heartbeat. “He swore to Father to protect me and Father accepted.” If something had changed, surely Raeden would have told you.

“Hmmmm.” Her smile is acidic, her fingers twisting around her handkerchief. “You think you are soooo clever. That I did not know.”

“Honestly?” Honestly you really did not think for a second that anyone besides your former maid knew anything, but you swallow down the boiling acid in your throat and keep your chin poised to stare your own mother down. “I do not know what you could possibly mean.”

“I birthed you.” She snorts, a very unladylike sound. “You think I do not know when my daughter had decided to spread her legs and become a Stone’s whore?”

Of course the thing that bothers her most is that Raeden is a bastard – Stone, as they are named in the Vale – and not an actual concern of safety or care. “I can assure you, that is not the case.” Though saying it would be a waste of breath, nothing you have done with Raeden could mark you as a whore. Just a woman very much in love with her soulmate.

“At least you just bled.” She scoffs. “Not carrying a bastard in your belly.” She leans in, her eyes flashing with malice. “Behave. Or I will allow your father into my bed for the night and he will do as I say. Including making sure your precious Raeden rides home to the Vale with his lord, your father.” She threatens.

Though you have serious doubts that your mother’s cunt is magical enough to control your father’s thoughts, it isn’t a chance you’re willing to take. If Raeden is ordered to return to the Vale and you are forced to ride for Dorne without him, you are more likely to see the bottom of the seas than your marriage bed. “My Lord Father loves me and wishes to protect me,” is all you say in response.

“Your Lord Father will do what makes me happy.” She promises you with a self-assured smirk. “Especially now that I have convinced him to marry you off.”

“It was you?” You should not be so shocked. Her hatred for you has been obvious from the time you were a child and had never seemed to waver. Your father, on the other hand? Doting and indulgent, always picking flowers for you and bringing you books instead of suitors. Your brothers are strong men with discipline instilled in them. You had been allowed to read and dream and sing and ride at your leisure. Of course his sudden change of heart was down to your bitter, angry mother.

“Who else?” She sneers. “Your father would be content to keep you around until you are nothing but a spinster. You are already past your prime. Luckily enough, the Prince of Dorne already has eight bastards.”

The way her utter dismissal of you makes your blood boil is beyond explanation, but as you squeeze your hands together in the pockets of your robe, only one precious thought floats to the surface. “My only solace is that if I should ever see you again after this week, Mother, you shall have to curtsy to the person you despise most in the world.”

“I will not.” She hisses, glaring at you. “I will never bow to a little whore like you.”

“Oh, but you will.” A victory, even a small one, is enough to grasp at as you square your shoulders again. “When I am Princess of Dorne it will be required of everyone save King Joffrey himself. You included.”

“Bitch.” She hisses, glaring at you. “I should have drowned you the moment you slipped from my womb.”

“A regret you will live with forever.” If Knocking her from her wicked confidence is the best you can do in this conversation, you will not take that for granted, for your mother has always been a formidable enemy. “Now leave me to read, Mother. Lest you earn yourself another wrinkle and find your hair a shade greater than it was when we left home.”

“I will be overjoyed to not see your face every day.” She spits, hating that you don’t seem cowed by her threats. “Dorne will be eye opening for you. And everything you deserve:”

“As you say, Mother.” Without another word, you take the small book of histories from your reticule and open it to the place where you left off last night, too distracted by Raeden’s handsome face to give any more thought to words. False confidence is a thing you learned very well in the face of your mother’s vitriol, and apparently on this one occasion it has actually yielded a victory. You may still be terrified of your future in Dorne, but she never needs to know that.

******

“This city still smells like shit.” Two weeks of travel has left Oberyn irritable, grumbling as he pulls his horse up to the gates of the city. “Let us go find comfort and a bath.” He tells Ellaria, unable to stay in the carriage and deciding to ride ahead of the contingent of troops Doran had sent with him.

“At the brothel, my love?” She smirks at the suggestion, far less uncomfortable from travel than he is. “A bath, fresh food, and a good fuck will restore your mood.”

“Of course.” Oberyn scoffs. “I will not accept chambers in that keep.” He hates even being here and seeing it. Wanting to burn it down, considering his sister, niece and nephew died in that keep.

“Nor should you.” As a prince he should have the most resplendent rooms available, but they both know what would happen if Oberyn ever set foot in the Red Keep beyond the wedding in two days. “We will visit this Littlefinger you have spoken of?”

“I had sent word that we were arriving.” He chuckles, smirking at Ellaria because she knows him so well. “Tell me you don’t want a hot bath and an even hotter cunt?”

“If I am honest, I am ravenous for a cunt to bury my tongue in.” There is never any judgment between them, or jealousy, and Ellaria sighs indulgently at the idea of a slick cunt and perky tits to indulge in. “Will you share with me, lover?”

“Always.” Oberyn waggles his brows. “We will pick out a whore together.”

“A favorite pastime.” Ellaria laughs softly. She has not spoken a word about Oberyn’s intended bride since they left Dorne and she won’t until it’s necessary. His mood is volatile here in the northern capital and she does not relish his moments of anger.

“Silk sheets.” Oberyn groans, not willing to admit that he is weary of travel, but he needs to recover. Especially if he is to be meeting this bride. He had decided that the poor girl deserves to be told in person that he will have nothing to do with her.

“Silk sheets. Roasted meats. Wine. Berries and nuts fresh from their trees.” She giggles when his hand slips inside her dress to caress her skin. “And a pert ass for you to bury yourself in.”

“We could get two. A man and a woman.” He reasons, smirking at the idea. “Perhaps we will have Littlefinger line them all up for us to choose from.”

“As many as you like, my love.” After all, it is not as if the coffers of Dorne lack for funds. They have brought a fortune with them under Doran’s insistence that Oberyn shower his intended with gifts – and a second fortune to pay for the bills his natural extravagance will no doubt incur. “We will have whatever you desire. And when you have had your fill we will rest and then begin all over again.”

“Wine.” Oberyn decides, frowning despite thinking of nicer things as the two of them enter the walls of King’s Landing. “I will need a lot of wine.”

Their destination is not far, but the duo of Oberyn Martell and Ellaria Sand attract attention by virtue of their combined beauty and the onlookers who cluster to gaze at them make their journey last longer. Oberyn sends their driver off with the carriage to find stables nearby and Ellaria wraps her arms around him when he returns to her side in the steps of the building. “Do you hear the false moans, my prince?” She pouts in sympathy for the unsatisfied women inside as they cross the threshold together. “We will make them scream so they never forget us.”

Oberyn smirks, holding her hand with no shame. He does not hide Ellaria, she is his paramour. Much more than that, although that is something that is kept between the two of them, private at her insistence so she does not become a liability to him. “We will, my love. Every whore in this brothel will pout when you leave.”

“Very pretty pouts, I hope.” Ellaria loves a very pretty pout when the time is right. To be begged to come back to bed. To have a lover cry her name with such passion that their heart aches for more. She saunters into the brothel beside Oberyn with her head high and looks around as the prettily dressed woman at the entrance fawns over Oberyn. Everyone fawns over Oberyn, that is of little interest to her.

Oberyn eyes the cunts and tits on display, lifting a brow when he sees earrings through one woman’s nipples. “I see we are in the right place.” He smirks, watching as Littlefinger rushes over to the pair.

“Prince Oberyn.” Though he does not ever bow deeply, he does bow, eyes tracking over to Ellaria with an oily smile. “My lady. What an honour to be graced with your presence. What can we provide for you this morning?”

“My lady?” Ellaria scoffs, making Oberyn smirk and squeeze her hand. “We will be needing accommodations for the duration of our stay in King’s Landing.” Most brothels do not rent rooms and he is sure that Littlefinger’s establishment is no different but Oberyn has learned that his title and the gold of his coin makes things possible when they previously weren’t. “For now, until it is ready, we need baths and whores to join us.”

“The duration of your stay?” The man does not bother to hide his surprise, but smiles broadly like the showman that he is. “I will send someone to ready your accommodations,” he promises, hand on heart. “Our baths are this way,” Littlefinger motions deeper into the building. “Do you have a preference for who should join you or shall I send you a variety to choose from?” There is enough gold dripping from the Prince of Dorne that Littlefinger will unfold the world of pleasure at his feet if that is what he wishes, without worry for his ability to pay what is owed.

“Your choicest men and women.” Oberyn looks over to Ellaria for her approval. “Clean.” He insists, although Littlefinger’s whores are always of a higher caliber than most. “We will send the others away once we have chosen.”

“Leyth.” Littlefinger waves to a tall, buxom girl with orange curls down to her waist. “Tend to the prince and his lady for me,” he instructs her, obviously trusting that she can do the job. “Anything they need, you will acquire for as long as they are here, do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” The girl called Leyth nods and smooths her thin skirt, looking between the beautiful prince and his stunning lady. “I will be happy to serve them.”

“Good.” The chuckle that bubbles out of Littlefinger is full of approval. “Take them to the baths and then fetch them food and wine.” He smiles at Oberyn, a thing dripping with false charm. “I will send you a selection of company to choose from.”

“Berries.” Oberyn adds, the need for fresh fruit after weeks on the road is great. Ellaria chuckles, well aware of his fondness for snacking, especially when he is fucking.

“Berries.” Leyth bats her eyelashes prettily as she leads the pair down the hall. “Do you prefer sweet things, your Grace?”

“Hmmmm.” He doesn’t answer one way or the other, although his gaze is sliding up and down her form and he reaches out to caress her ass through the sheer robe she is wearing.

She hums right back at him, playful but bidding, and slows her pace slightly to let him touch as they turn the corner to the bathing room. The deep bath in the floor sits full and waiting for paying customers, beautifully tiled with trays of soap and sponges for gently scrubbing skin. The oiled waters smell of flower petals, and two baths are even littered with the things. Leyth walks toward the bath of floral water with a sultry smile and a swing in her hips. “I will wash you with my own hands if that is your wish, after I fetch you food to break your fast.”

“What do you say my love?” Oberyn asks Ellaria. “Leyth and whoever catches our eyes?” He would love to see his paramour’s thighs spread for the orange haired beauty. “Or would you prefer to choose the woman?”

“You are lovely, Leyth.” Ellaria praises, already having decided that she likes this woman’s spirit as well as her figure. “We will see who else catches our eye when they arrive.”

“Show me your tits.” Oberyn commands the woman. Eager to see if they are as perky as they seem or if it is an illusion of the gown she is wearing.

Obedience is necessary to work for Littlefinger, but Leyth is lucky to have been given to this couple she finds so attractive. She slips the ties from her shoulders and lets her silken dress fall to the stone floor with pride. Her body is well worth selling and has given her a good living, so she proudly bares her large tits and curved waist to this prince when he demands it.

“Very nice.” Oberyn groans with a smirk. “They will look lovely bouncing when you ride my cock.” He predicts. “We can undress ourselves.” He promises, turning to Ellaria and pushing aside her own gown so he can cup her bare breast, tweaking an already hard nipple.

Ellaria moans happily when the girl excuses herself to fetch their food, and drops the traveling robe she was wearing to the ground immediately. “Lover…” she sighs, her body arching to seek Oberyn’s touch instinctively. “You were right about this place.”

“Of course I am right.” He teases playfully, leaning in and dragging his nose along her throat. “Now, we need to wash so we can be ready to play when the whores are brought in. I want to feed you fruit while a tongue is buried in your cunt.”

“Leyth is a beauty.” Ellaria disrobes easily and quickly, leaving her things scattered as she steps into the bath built deep into the floor. It is warm and smells sweet, like summer in the Water Gardens. “Pale, but I like her freckles.” She looks up at Oberyn with admiration as he shrugs off his own robes. “I like your freckles better, though.” Especially the one on the inside of his right thigh, high on his muscled leg where she can kiss it before swallowing his cock.

“Just like her tits are gorgeous, but yours have suckled four of my children.” His cock twitches and he kicks off his boots, throwing the loose, pale yellow shirt off and reaching for his leather breeches.

“Hers are bigger than mine.” Ellaria chuckles at the way he loves tits. “Enjoy them, lover. I know I shall.”

“You always do.” He chuckles, thanking the gods that his soulmate is just as adventurous as he is. “Maybe she will be the only one we choose for now.”

“Perhaps.” Sighing as she lays back in the water, Ellaria tilts her head and soaks her hair, enjoying the way she feels cleaner already. “Perhaps we will develop a taste for sun-red hair while we are here.”

“Whatever we develop a taste for, we will indulge in.” Oberyn does not mind sharing her, doesn’t get jealous because she is his sun and world. No one could break their bond.

“Come to me, lover.” She beckons him with both hands, pouting for him prettily. Now that travel is behind them, Oberyn is already cheerier and it lightens her heart. “Soak with me. It has been weeks since we had a bath.”

“With pleasure.” Stripped down, Oberyn strides over to the bath and starts to descend the stairs to join her in the deep tub.

Ellaria moves to him immediately, arms welcoming him home and lips finding his with a deeply satisfied moan. Her legs are around his waist as quickly as his hands find her ass, and his growing cock twitches against her soft skin.

Oberyn turns around, letting his paramour cling to him as he drops down onto the seat under the water. “I love you.” He murmurs quietly against his lips.

“As I love you.” Since the day they first spoke the words to each other they have not wavered, and Ellaria runs her hands across Oberyn’s skin reverently. “My warrior.”

“My sun.” Oberyn squeezes her ass and rocks her onto his hardening cock. “My world.” The passion between the pair has not wavered over the years, growing stronger in a way that could only be because of their soulmate bond.

“Oberyn.” No matter how many times she takes him, the stretch of his cock inside her takes her breath away. Her hands find his shoulders to cling to him as they find their pace, with his grip guiding her as she begins to bounce on his length in earnest.

“Too soon, my love?” He teases, knowing she is far more than adequately wet. She is dripping.

“Never.” She shakes her head before throwing it back, letting her moan ring out through the echoey chamber. “Never. I am always yours.”

Multi-tasking is a gift that Oberyn has. Results of a wandering spirit and a restless mind. It was one of the reasons he had joined the maesters and eventually left after forging eight links. He reaches for the perfumed soap and a rag to wash his lover.

They are fully enraptured with each other when Leyth returns, and she sets the tray down beside them before seeing about pouring two goblets of wine. It’s rare to have pairs of lovers visit the establishment but not unheard of, and she smiles indulgently, watching the passion they share for a moment before making herself known. “I can do that for you, your Grace,” she offers, knowing her employer will be upset if she neglects them.

Even with Ellaria impaled on his cock, Oberyn tears his mouth away from her lips and looks over at the woman. “Join us and bring the wine.” He orders. “Are the others coming?”

“They are right here.” Leyth slips into the water easily, taking the sponge from him and resumes the work of bathing his lady without missing a beat. Four women and two men all of varying ages and looks pour into the room behind her clad in next to nothing looking apprehensive.

“Do not be shy.” Oberyn turns Ellaria’s head and groans when she clenches down around him. “Any who wish to not join us may leave now.” He does not want someone who is timid.

The most tired looking of the women takes the youngest girl by the hand and leads her from the room with a respectful nod of her head, and one of the men bows before stepping out behind them. "Leaving us with five supple bodies to learn," Ellaria groans appreciatively. Between Oberyn's cock and Leyth's hands massaging her back as she washes her, this is surely already one of the seven heavens. One of the girls is the first to step forward, beautiful dark skin on display and bright eyes full of mischief as she easily discards her meager dress and slips into the water right away. She has heard legends of the second prince of Dorne and intends to find out for herself if they are true.

“Eager.” Oberyn chuckles and beckons her forward. “I like that.” His eyes slide past her towards the remaining man, tall and broad. His tawny skin clear and it’s obvious that his cock is starting to harden as he watches. “You—” he motions towards him. “Do you suck cock or like cock in your ass?”

"I like whatever you like, my lord." After all, is that not what he is here for? Being a man with a voracious appetite for pleasure makes him an asset in a place like this.

Oberyn growls, eyeing his cock tenting the loose trousers he is wearing. “Strip and join us if you are going to.”

Spacious as it is, there is not enough room for everyone in the bath, and the last remaining girl lays down bare on the edge after everyone has climbed in and patiently plays with herself while she waits her turn. There is plenty to feast her eyes on until one of them decides to bury their face in her pussy.

Twitching inside his lover, he kisses her gently and pulls her off his cock. “Go play, my love.” He urges her, knowing she wants to do more than just be touched.

"We may learn to enjoy King's Landing after all." Ellaria laughs, happily letting hands explore her skin. Leyth and the man gravitate toward Oberyn, and she is happy to drown herself in a sea of pussy until she is drunk on the sound of women's pleasure.

When he is close enough, Oberyn reaches down and cups the man’s cock firmly. “What is your name?” He demands, squeezing him gently and jerking him slowly.

"Cal, my lord." His eyelids flutter slightly at the firm touch, eager for more. "Or whatever you want it to be."

“Cal….” He smirks and presses his thumb against the head of the man’s cock. “Have you ever been fucked by a Prince?”

The way Cal shudders and his breath hitches is reverent, and he shakes his head as he tries to remember to breathe. "No, your Grace. But I would like to be."

He turns to Leyth, jerking his chin up. “Kiss me.” he orders, stretching his neck out and lets go of the man’s cock so he can slide his hand around him to press between the cheeks of his ass.

The room fills with moans as Leyth eagerly complies, licking into the prince's mouth with surety. She knows her skill and she hopes to impress, even pressing closer to him to wrap her own hand around his cock.

Oberyn hisses, his tongue sliding against hers happily as he finds Cal’s puckered hole quickly and starts to rub around the opening.Hands are everywhere as Cal lowers his head to lay kisses along the taut muscles of the prince's neck, one hand caressing his skin and the other groping for Leyth's breast to squeeze the supple flesh and play with her nipple. They are paired together often, when clients wish for a show, so he knows her body as well as any instrument.

“You are lovers.” Oberyn groans, pushing a finger inside the man’s quivering hole. On the other side of the bath, Ellaria and the ebony skinned beauty are tangled together in a passionate embrace.

"Sometimes." Leyth agrees, leaning over to give Cal a kiss without missing a single stroke of the prince's cock.

The sounds of heavy breathing and pleasure are filling the bathing room and he can feel the way Cal’s body squeezes his finger as he pumps it into him to stretch him out. “So do you want his cock or his tongue while I fuck him?”

"If I have his cock, I will feel every time you fuck into him." She moans at the idea, chest heaving with just the thought. "You will be driving us both wild with pleasure."

He chuckles and nods, pulling his fingers out of the other man. “Then get on your knees and let him slide inside your cunt.”

Kneeling on the bench where he had been sitting, Leyth presents herself easily for both men to appreciate and sighs out loud when the familiar stretch of Cal's cock presses inside of her wet heat. She knows that Cal is truly the one getting spoiled today and hopes the prince lives up to every rumour for his sake.

Oberyn can’t help but reach out and slap her ass and groans when her generous skin jiggles. “I will fuck you after I have had my fill of your lover.”

"He is insatiable," Ellaria offers, chuckling deeply before burying her face in the cunt nearest her talented mouth. Oberyn is not the only one with an endless appetite. It is one of the reasons that they have so much fun together.

“It has been two weeks.” He huffs, rolling his eyes. There hadn’t been any place to stop and fuck while on the road. He was pent up.

"No one here will complain, my lord." Cal promises, burying himself again in Leyth's cunt and groaning at her heat. "The stories of you are legend, and most of us are eager to know if they are true."

“They are true.” Ellaria pulls his tongue out of the cunt to purr her vote of confidence.

“Thank you, my love.” Oberyn chuckles and reaches for the oils that are kept on the edge of the bath for things such as this.

"Then we will add our praise to the stories that already exist." Soon Leyth will be able to do nothing but take the thrusts from the two men above her, but for now she meets each movement with a roll of her plush hips.

"We are yours for as long as you wish to stay." It is only half of a promise from Cal himself, having been instructed by Littlefinger himself to give Prince Oberyn whatever he wants, but at least now Cal can make the vow with pleasure.

Oberyn has no doubt that these people have been told to do whatever he or his paramour likes but he will only take what he deems right. “Only if I bring you both pleasure.”

"I cannot imagine you have trouble giving pleasure." Cal moans, bending over Leyth's back to present himself to the prince for the taking.

Coating his cock in enough oil to wash his entrance, the water in the bath sloshes as he shuffles closer and takes himself in hand. Pressing closer and pushing the head of his cock against the other man’s hole and slowly rolls his hips forward to break him open.

Cal curses, eyes rolling back into his head as the prince's girth fills him, and in turn pushes his cock further into Leyth's fluttering pussy. The bathing room may as well be their own private party in this moment, because of the large handful of people indulging in each other no one notices Littlefinger lurking by the doorway. True pleasure is rare in a whorehouse, so this is sure to be a lucrative visit for the proprietor.

Oberyn lets out a lusty groan when his hips are flush against the other man’s ass. “You do not flinch away.” He praises, wrapping his long arms around the man so he can cup Leyth’s generous breasts while he waits for the man’s muscles to relax around him.

“Pleasure is a gift.” Cal’s body shudders as he takes Oberyn fully, the stretch of him making the man pant and reach back to grasp the prince’s hip. “You have a very large gift, my lord.”

Oberyn chuckles quietly, pleased with Cal’s words and leans in to nibble on his ear. Enjoying the way he shudders again. “Let me show you what I can do with that gift.”

******

The Red Keep looms above you when you finally step out of your carriage, trying with all your might to block out your mother’s voice muttering indignities that your party was not greeted by a royal retinue at the city line. What utter nonsense. Your house is ancient and wealthy, yes, but certainly not royal and there is no reason for the royal Baratheons or Lannisters to pay you any heed. At least, outside the carriage, you can finally be more than a foot and a half away from your mother again.

“Alright, pumpkin?” Your father beams down at you before swinging off of his horse.

“Of course, Papa.” Of course not is the truth, but after days of spitting venom you are too tired to put up much of a fight. Besides, now that you know this is your mother’s doing, it is hard to be upset with your father for simply being a fool.

Your father beams at you as he steps beside you and offers you his arm. Not having an opportunity to talk much on the road, he wants to assure you. “I understand you are nervous because you have not been to Dorne, but your grandmother and her mother are from Dorne.” He reminds you. “And there is family in Braavos and across the Narrow Sea.” The long tradition of finding love outside the Vale is common, your father finding the free-spirited prince to be a far worthier match for you than some sniveling little lord grasping for favor. The idea that his daughter will be princess is also a factor.

“I shall visit them all at my earliest ability.” The idea of traveling to see family you have never met sounds infinitely preferable to spending even a minute in the presence of the prince you never agreed to wed, and for a moment you almost relax at the idea.

“I doubt your husband will allow anything other than you spitting out his heirs for the next few years.” Your mother scoffs. “You will be visiting his bed.”

“That is not for you to know or to decide.” You tell her, though the fact that she may be right makes you sick to your stomach. Two steps behind the three of you, Raeden could not have missed the comment but you cannot exactly turn to look at him.

Raeden keeps his gaze down, your mother’s words in his mind as he tries to decide if he had made the right choice. Perhaps he should have run away with you. He’s noticed the captain of your father’s guard eyeing him so he had tried to be as impassive as possible. His heart aches at the idea of you in the Prince’s bed, despite the rumors of his prowess and propensity for men and women, something that he shamefully shares with the Prince of Dorne. He had fought his attraction to the other men around him. Not even sharing it with you.

“My lord. My ladies.” A steward in the hallway bows to you dutifully and opens his mouth to welcome you to the Red Keep, but a swish of skirts and a silky smooth voice cuts him off from behind. “Lollard, I will greet my guests,” she instructs, sounding nearly severe before her voice pitches up to something delighted and seemingly terribly excited. “I was so pleased to see your banner approach that I could not help myself.” The woman declares, and you cannot tell if she means it or not. “Lady Margaery Tyrell,” she introduces herself with a broad smile. “It was I who sent your invitation. Welcome to King’s Landing, and to the Red Keep.”

“You are even more beautiful than your portrait, Lady Margaery,” your mother gushes, simpering to the woman who appeared to be several years younger than even you. “And how thoughtful of you to include our House in your nuptial feast. We are honoured.”

“It is I who am honoured.” She steps toward you with a smile. “To have the future princess of Dorne amongst my guests, and of course the ancient connection between our Houses makes us loving cousins, does it not?” The marriage of a Tyrell daughter into your House was four generations ago, but Margaery has never been one to overlook a string that might be pulled in her favour. At least not after her grandmother pointed it out.

Future princess of Dorne. Raeden’s fists clench at his sides as he tries to ignore the fury in his heart at that simple phrase. You will be a princess, and the gap between your stations will be more vast than before.

“We are flattered by such a personal welcome.” Beside you, your father is talking and patting your hand on his arm, but you barely hear him. Each time another person calls you princess or refers to the man who bought you, you feel closer and closer to being sick all over the floor. Or perhaps sinking in a wasting depression. If both are possible simultaneously, that may be the answer.

“Forgive me.” When you find your voice it almost cracks, but you put one hand to your stomach delicately. “I am delighted to make your acquaintance, Lady Margaery, but I am afraid I feel quite ill from weeks of travel. Would it be possible to be escorted to our chamber so that I might be well enough for a turn around the gardens later?” An ally – any ally – may be worth grasping, and you enjoy the way this young woman made your mother frown by not paying attention to her. For right now, though, you would do anything to be alone so that Raeden could visit you.

“Forgive me.” Margaery bows her head respectfully and gives a small, sincere smile. “My manners have forsaken me.” She gestures towards the keep. “Allow me to show you personally to your rooms. A light repast has been laid out for your pleasure as well.”

“How very kind of you,” you murmur, knowing you won’t touch a thing. The reality of your situation has stolen your normally healthy appetite.

Clever blue eyes catch the subtle grimace when she mentions food and yet she doesn’t comment on it. Sensing that you will have much to talk about, Margaery had invited you to stay in the keep as her guest after learning of your betrothal to Oberyn Martell. “This way.” She smiles and motions towards the left corridor.

Though you might not be fond of the games of society, you were raised in them, and you have sense enough that when the future queen offers you her arm you take it. That is how the first glimpse many guests to court ever have of you is strolling arm-in-arm with the woman who will become queen in two days time. It does not matter that you just met. It does not matter that she is chattering away politely while you simply smile your polite smile and nod. The future queen of the Seven Kingdoms and the future princess of Dorne paint a very pretty picture on their way through the halls of the Red Keep with your family trailing behind. If you weren’t so desperate to be alone with Raeden again and attempt to forget all this is happening, you might more fully enjoy the way your mother is green with envy.

______

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[daenysthedreamer101]

Mood boards masterlist

Hello and welcome ☺✨💓

Here you will find all the fandoms I like and all the mood boards I made.

General Masterlist

ASOIAF (GOT & HOTD)

House Targaryen

Daenys the Dreamer

Aegon the Conqueror

Queen Visenya

Queen Rhaenys

Princess Rhaenyra

Queen Rhaenyra

Prince Daemon

Princess Rhaenys, the Queen Who Never Was

Baela and Rhaena Targaryen

Aegon II

Prince Aemond One-Eye

Princess Helaena

Prince Rhaegar

Prince Viserys

Daenerys Stormborn

How a Targaryen princess might style herself

Daenerys and her female ancestors

Daenerys and her male ancestors

Targaryens and their dragons

Daemon x Rhaenyra

Daenerys conquering KL

Mother of Dragons

Book!Rhaenyra

House Lannister

Cersei Lannister

Jaime Lannister

House Stark

Robb Stark

Sansa Stark

Arya Stark

Jon Snow

House Arryn

House Greyjoy

House Tyrell

Margaery Tyrell

House Martell

Prince Oberyn

House Baratheon

House Tully

Lady Catelyn

House Velaryon

Lord Corlys, the Sea Snake

Laena Velaryon

Laenor Velaryon

Jacaerys Velaryon

Lucerys Velaryon

Miscellaneous

Lady Ashara Dayne

HARRY POTTER

House Slytherin

POV: You're Draco's sister

House Ravenclaw

House Hufflepuff

House Gryffindor

THE VAMPIRE DIARIES

Vampires

Mystic Falls

Lexi

Elena Gilbert

Caroline Forbes

Bonnie Bennett

Katherine Pierce

Katherine Pierce II

Stefan Salvatore

Damon Salvatore

Finn

Elijah

Klaus

Kol

Rebekah

Kassandra (OC)

Pt 1

POV: You're one of the Mikaelsons

Rebekah x Kassandra

Elijah x Kassandra

Klaus x Kassandra

Kol x Kassandra

Finn x Kassandra

Stefan x Elena

MARVEL/MCU

Loki

MISCELLANEOUS

POV: You're the wife of Michael Corleone

POV: You're an actress and a part of the HOTD cast

[findroleplay]

21+. She/Her. Please be 21+ to interact! I have three fandoms on my mind right now that I would love to get threads going with: Baldur's Gate 3 (BG3), Game of Thrones (GoT), and Marvel/Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU).

I'll only be listing my main muses for each (there might be others I'm willing to try out). I'm pretty open when it comes to discussing ships. I do prefer canon x canon but canon x OC is fine too. I can do MxM, MxF, or FxF. I like incorporating NSFW/smut into threads (the plot/smut ration can be anything). If you'd rather not, please let me know from the get-go. 🌹

My Muses:

Baldur's Gate 3: Abdirak, Alfira, Astarion Ancunín, Cazador Szarr, Enver Gortash, Gale Dekarios, Ketheric Thorm, Raphael, Relonor (my male Drow Dark Urge), Rolan, Shadowheart, Zevlor

Game of Thrones: Alliser Thorne, Benjen Stark, Beric Dondarrion, Daenerys Targaryen, Jaime Lannister, Margaery Tyrell, Petyr Baelish, Robb Stark, Roose Bolton, Sansa Stark, Stannis Baratheon, Thoros, Tywin Lannister, Yoren

Marvel: Benjamin Poindexter, Billy Russo, Bruce Banner, Bucky Barnes, Carol Danvers, Frank Castle, Grant Ward, Loki Laufeyson, Nathan Summers, Andrew!Peter Parker, Phil Coulson, Ray Nadeem, Reed Richards, Tony Stark, Victor von Doom

I write on Discord or through Tumblr messages. I do not double, and it may take me a few days to reply because I work full-time during the week and may not always be available on the weekend.

If you're interested in doing something with me, I'll reach out to you when you like this post.

-

[jaeedraszaerysz]

YOU MAKE IT ALL GO AWAY ☆ SANSA STARK

Masterlist

Warnings: swearing, mentions of Canon typical murder, violence, sexual assault, abuse. Angst and fluff. Non sexual nudity.

Summary: the reader shows sansa that scars aren't something to be ashamed of and that she is beautiful no matter what.

Notes: this is an OC ONESHOT. OC IS A FEMALE TARGARYEN. daenerys older sister by about 7 years, she is around 28 and sansa is 22. Named jaerys.

___________________________________________

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

___________________________________________

Winterfell was quiet, it was early in the morning and the sky was just gaining light again. A slow breeze drifted through the castle and sansa stark, now queen in the North, sat at the end of her and jaerys targaryens bed, staring out of the window into the trees.

It was mornings like these, while her lover was still held in the comfortable arms of sleep, that she began to think. Think of her life before. About how ten years ago she so desperately wanted to marry joffrey baratheon and become his queen and now she found herself with the deepest hatred for the dead king and sharing a bed with a lady targaryen.

She wondered what her mother and father would say. Would they say anything? Would they disown her? Execute her?

She thought about all the people she lost. Her brothers, her parents, Margaery, and all the others. She thought about the abuse she suffered in the red keep. About the stench of Kings landing and the grimace that often rested on many of the faces of Lords and ladies as they watched her suffer.

She thought about pushing joffrey all those years ago. What would have happened? Did she even want to know?

She thought about the scars that adorned her body, a constant reminder of her troubles and her failures. Of her enemies and how she let them win over her with their threats and violence. It ashamed her. And secretly, somewhere deep inside of her, she wondered that if she had somehow pushed joffrey and gone toppling over the edge with him, would her mother be living, robb, rickon, everyone else? Would King's landing still stand tall? Or would daenerys stormborns dragon still reduced it to ashes in a mere minute or two.

She then turned around, to gaze at the woman she now loved with her deep brown eyes. Only to be met with jaerys' purple rings staring right back into hers.

"What troubles you my love?" She soothed, sitting up and adjusting her nightdress ever so slightly, moving to sit to her left.

She slowly placed her hand on sansas shoulder and gently brushed her thumb over the smooth skin there. Sansa looked down for a moment.

"I had every chance to end his reign. But I didn't. I let a weak boy king beat me, humiliate me, scar me. A constant reminder that I'm just a weak little girl who spent her whole life waiting to be saved."

Jaerys waited a moment, studying her lovers beautiful face. The way her lashes blinked elegantly. The way her pale skin seemed to glow and how her auburn hair fell into her face slightly.

"I know how you feel my love, but I assure you that these things you say are just that, words. They are not the truth. They are the deepest parts of your minds, slowly trying to break their way out and hurt you. But I assure you, a weak little girl is the opposite of what I, and everyone else for that matter, see in you, my queen."

Sansa studied jaerys' face slowly. Her blonde hair was braided in many places, small beads in some places, her purple eyes shimmered in the light from the window and her skin was paper white nearly.

"You know how I feel?" She whispered.

Jaerys nodded slowly.

"Jaime lannister used to hold me when I was a baby, and him and cersei would read me bedtime stories. Tywin lannister would accompany on my adventures around the red keep. Jaime and rheagar would spar whilst viserys and I watched. I remember, when the war raged on, I was but a small child. Jaime came to my chambers one night and said something to me. He told me never to forget who my true friends are. The next morning I watched him murder my father and was dragged away with my mother and viserys. I remember reaching essos and asking for rheagar every day until I finally understood he wasn't coming back.

I remember when viserys refused to marry me of to khal drogo and instead daenerys because he wanted to marry me once he retook the seven Kingdoms. And I remeber begging him not to. But I couldn't do anything.

And when daenerys was busy with her new friends in the dorthraki camps, and viserys was constantly bugging ser jorah, the dothraki men were free to have their way with me. Whatever they liked they got and I couldn't stop them.

And then daenerys killed viserys and again I watched someone I loved die. And although I understand why she did it, I don't think I can ever forgive her.

And then, I was sold off. Sold all the way back to King's landing until I ended up face to face once more with tywin lannister who agreed to keep my identity under the radar but it would only work if I married him."

Sansa's hand danced gently over jaerys' arms as she spoke.

"And when cersei realised who I was she lost it. She had me beaten and tortured. And then, when I escaped, I found daenerys again. And I asked her why had she not come for me. I asked her if I meant less to her than the villagers she was so keep to risk all for all those years ago. And she looked me in the eye and stayed quiet. And that was the day I realised that it didn't matter how many scars I gained, or how many people had violated and hurt me, for I did it all by myself for so long. And they were proof that I survived. That I prevailed over my enemies and that I was stronger than them in the end."

Jaerys hand gently caressed sansa's cheek.

"You are stronger than them. You always were and you always will be. I promise you that my queen." Jaerys slowly let the straps of her nightdress slide from her shoulders until the fabric landed on the floor around her feet.

The lack of clothing revealed several scars on her stomach, a long line across her chest and several marks on her breasts and shoulders. Her legs were painted with small marks but samsa did not shy away from the revelation of these scars.

She reached out an arms and ran her hand along them gently. Keeping eye contact with the targaryen girl as she did. And then sansa too, slowly but surely, let the nightgown slip, revealing her own set of scars. And jaerys just knelt to the floor infront of her, as if to pray, and kissed the scars on her stomach, on her thighs and her arms and her chest.

She did so until sansa took her face in her hands and moved her head to face her own, urging the woman to rise and grasp sansa's lips in her own gently. They glided smoothly against eachother and jaerys hands found themselves lingering on the red headed woman's waist as sansa pulled her closer by the neck before pulling away for breath.

"I love you, jaerys targaryen." She whispered.

"And I love you too, queen sansa stark."

They smiled at eachother.

"And now my queen, you have a kingdom to run."

[prpfz]

She/Her. 21+. Looking for various fandom roleplays. 🐺

I write on Discord or through Tumblr messages. I like to stick to Tumblr for plotting. I write in third person, past tense and usually around 200-400 words. I work full-time during the week so daily replies will not happen. I try my hardest to get them out within 2-3 days. I do not double and have no triggers.

I'm open to MxM, FxF, and MxF ships, although MxM is my strong preference so please at least be open to discussing MxM pairings, even if we end up going with something else. I'm mostly looking for canon x canon pairings but am willing to discuss some canon x OC. I lean towards romantic pairings and writing NSFW/smut (with a healthy dose of plot). Neither of those are a requirement, though.

I'll just be listing my main muses for each fandom. I have a lot of favorite ships. I'm always open to doing others. There's only a slight chance I'll turn a ship down.

Baldur's Gate 3:

Abdirak

Arvir (male OC ; Dark Urge Tiefling ; "Cleric of Bane")

Astarion

Gale Dekarios

Ketheric Thorm

Rolan

Rugan

Wyll Ravengard

Zevlor

Doctor Who:

Delgado!Master

Dhawan!Master

Eleventh Doctor

Fifth Doctor

Fourteenth Doctor

Harry Sullivan

Ian Chesterton

Jack Harkness

Rogue

Second Doctor

Sixth Doctor

Tenth Doctor

Game of Thrones (TV Show or the ASOIAF Books):

Beric Dondarrion

Bronn

Davos Seaworth

Daenerys Targaryen

Jaime Lannister

Margaery Tyrell

Lyn Corbray

Petyr Baelish

Robb Stark

Roose Bolton

Sansa Stark

Stannis Baratheon

Thoros

Tywin Lannister

Interview with the Vampire (TV Show Only):

Armand

Lestat de Lioncourt

Marvel:

Benjamin Poindexter

Billy Russo

Bruce Banner

Bucky Barnes

Frank Castle

Loki Laufeyson

Nathan Summers

Andrew!Peter Parker

Ray Nadeem

Tony Stark

The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (Movies or Game):

Drayton Sawyer/Slaughter

Johnny Sawyer/Slaughter

Nubbins Sawyer/Slaughter

Tex Sawyer

Tinker Sawyer

The X-Files:

Alex Krycek

CGB Spender/The Cigarette Smoking Man

Fox Mulder

John Doggett

Walter Skinner

If you want to work something out, please like this post and I'll get back to you ASAP.

Please only like this post if you actually want to do something.

give a like and anon will get back to you

[firebloodicee]

Starter Calls ; Memes ; Promo ; Wish List ; Head canons ;

Rules, Muses & Mains below ;

Rules ;

1.Please DO NOT rush me with replies. i am kind of slow with replies from time to time. i try to get better with that buttttt. xD

2. Note that this is not my only blog so i may not be on here everyday.

3. i will NOT be writing with anyone who isn't of age. so please if you are under age DNI please & thank you.

4. this blog WILL have NSFW themes on here & yes i do write NSFW threads.

5. i am a shipping whore, 9/10 i'm gonna like the same ship as you.

6. ALL muses will be written as Bi.

7. my messages is always open so if y'all have any questions please send me a message. <3

------------------------

House of the Dragon Muses ;

Alysanne Targaryen FC ; Scarlett Johansson

Rhaenyra Targaryen FC ; Emma D'Arcy { Show-based }

Daemon Targaryen FC ; Matt Smith { Show-based }

Aemond Targaryen FC ; Ewan Mitchell {Mostly book based }

Alicent Hightower FC ; Olivia Cooke { Show -based }

Helaena Targaryen FC ; Phia Saban { Show mixed with book-based }

Aegon Targaryen FC ; Tom Glynn-Carney { Show -based }

Jacaerys Velaryon FC ; Harry Collett { Headcanon-based & some pulls from the show }

Saera Targaryen FC ; Jodie Comer { Headcanon & book based }

--

Game of Thrones Muses ;

Sansa Stark FC ; Sophie Turner { Show, book & headcanon mix }

Cersei Lannister FC ; Lena Headey { Show & book mix }

Tyrion Lannister FC ; Peter Dinklage { Show-based }

Jamie Lannister FC ; Nikolaj Coster { Show-based }

Daenerys Targaryen FC ; Emilia Clarke { Show up till season 5 then headcanon }

Sandor { The Hound } FC ; Roy McCann { Show-based }

Joffrey Baratheon FC ; Jack Gleeson { Show-based }

Margaery Tyrell FC ; Natalie Dormer { Show-based }

Oberyn Martell FC ; Pedro Pascal { Show-based }

Lyanna Stark FC ; Katie McGrath { Book-based mixed with headcanon }

Joanna Lannister FC ; Lucy Lawless { headcanon }

Jon Snow FC ; Kit Harington { Show-based up till season 5 then headcanon }

Theon Greyjoy FC ; Alfie Allen { Show & headcanon mix }

Viserys Targaryen iii FC ; Harry Lloyd { Show-based }

Ramsay Bolton FC ; Iwan Rheon { Show-based }

------

Testing Muses ;

Petyr Baelish FC ; Aidan Gillen

Catelyn Stark FC ; Michelle Fairley

Myrcella Baratheon FC ; Nell Tiger Free

Dragons ; Drogon, Syrax, Caraxes, Seasmoke, Vhagar, Dreamfyre, Sunfyre & Silverwing

Direwolfs ; Lady, Ghost & Nymeria 

Ser Criston Cole FC ; Fabien Frankel

-------

OC Muses ;

Valkyrie Targaryen { Daenerys & Jon's daughter } FC ; Katheryn Winnick

Eddard Targaryen { Ned } { Sansa & Jon's son } FC ; Jonathan Rhys Meyers

Alyssa Targaryen { Sansa & Jon's daughter } { twin to Eddard Targaryen } FC ; Tamzin Merchant

--------------------------

MAINS ;

Daemon Targaryen ;

Kyra Targaryen ; @amarvelousmencgerie

Cersei Lannister ;

Jaime Lannister ; @notdrifting

[rainwingmarvel7]

“We have danced at a dozen balls, but I crave only the dance we share in secret.” for oc of your choice

I was so close to doing Darren x Nadya for this one (let’s just imagine she said this to him in the Regency AU that I don’t know enough about the era to write for) but then I got the itch to write for Nadya’s kids some more so now we’re doing Erryck x Margaery because this is so them (also this took me so long to finish for literally no reason)

Erryck Tarly x Margaery Stark

“May I have this dance, Princess?”

Margaery looked up at the masked stranger standing in front of her, although to her he was no stranger. Even with his facial features obscured by the bronze mask he wore, engraved with an arrow on the bridge of his nose, Margaery knew Erryck Tarly as well as she knew herself.

She allowed him a sweet smile. “You may, good ser,” she said, accepting his offered hand.

He took it, leading her into the center of the dance floor. He put his other hand around her waist, and she rested her own on his shoulder, feeling the soft velvet of his red cape between her fingertips.

They moved in time with the music, Margaery’s green dress swirling around her legs as they swept across the floor. Erryck’s eyes never left hers, and it was as if the rest of the world faded away as they danced, like a dream.

“I’ve missed you,” Margaery said as she looked up at Erryck.

“As have I,” Erryck responded. His gazed flickered down at her fingers, where two rings rested.

One was a golden stag head - a wedding gift from her husband’s family. The other, one she thought far prettier, was golden band with an emerald, studded with a small ruby on either side.

He smiled down at it.

“I see you kept it,” he remarked.

“Of course I did,” Margaery said. “I would never get rid of such a precious gift.”

Erryck leaned down, pressing a kiss to the gemstone-laden finger. “I am honored, Princess.”

Margaery pulled her hand way from him. He gave her a quizzical look.

“I tire of these courtesies, Erryck,” she said, lowering her voice. “This formality.”

“What do you mean?”

Margaery leaned forward, so that her lips brushed against his ear. “We have danced a dozen balls, but I crave only the dance we share in secret,” she whispered.

[isefyres-archive]

𝔑𝔢𝔴 𝔞𝔡𝔡𝔢𝔡 𝔪𝔲𝔰𝔢𝔰:

Lord Lester Morrigen: Lester Morrigen is the Lord of Crow's Nest and the head of House Morrigen in the stormlands. His heir is his younger brother, Ser Richard Morrigen. House Morrigen supports Renly Baratheon during the War of the Five Kings. After Renly's death, Lester allies with Stannis Baratheon. Lester's youngest brother, Ser Guyard Morrigen, is slain in the Battle of the Blackwater. Stannis tells Ser Davos Seaworth that Lester is among the stormlords who still remain loyal to him following his loss at the Blackwater. Lester goes to the North among his brother, leaving his sister as Regent of Crow's Nest before it's fall. Crow's Nest is usually the seat where prisoners are taken before send to the Wall, henche it's name. Lester takes the newly arriveed prisoners to the Wall on his journey to provide more men to Stannis. He would later sworn to Jon Snow. Canon. Song Era.

Lady Hermia Morrigen: Hermia is the younger sister of Lester and twin of Richard Morrigen. As both her brothers were going to the North, Hermia was left as Regent of the Crow's Nest. Her Regency however, was cut short as the stormlands are invaded with the landing of the Golden Company. Ser Tristan Rivers sets off to seize the seat of House Morrigen at Crow's Nest and Crow's Nest is taken, with Hermia remaining at the castle under the pretense that Tristan Rivers and the Company are her "guests". Her own political views support a female leader on the throne, be it Daenerys or Myrcella or Margaery, believing the throne has lacked rights for women and ladies for a while. OC. Song Era.

Lord Alesender Staedmon: Alesander Staedmon, called Pennylover, is the Lord of Broad Arch and the head of House Staedmon. Alesander is part of Stannis Baratheon's army. He is captured during the Battle of the Blackwater and later submits to King Joffrey I Baratheon. Staedmon is forced to remain at King's Landing and attends the Purple Wedding as well the coronation of Tommen Baratheon after the death of Joffrey. He is called Pennylover for many things, more so, for spending coin on pleasure houses on the most expensive women. House Staedmon is known for bringing high Courtesans from the Free Cities for former King Robert and has contacts with all the houses there. Canon. Song Era.

Lady Alys Karstark: Alesander is part of Stannis Baratheon's army. He is captured during the Battle of the Blackwater and later submits to King Joffrey I Baratheon. When she was six, Alys and her father, Lord Rickard, visited Winterfell. Despite Alys's young age, Rickard wanted her to charm Robb Stark in hopes of arranging a betrothal. She danced with Robb, whom she considered courteous, and with Jon Snow, who was sullen. In some verses, she will be married to Sigorn of Thenn, for the new House Thenn, while in others, she is the now Lady of Karkhold and Lady of House Karstark, offering her shield to Jon, for saving her from marrying her uncle. Canon. Song Era.

Lady Jeyne Farman: Jeyne Farman is a noblewoman of House Farman. She is the sister of Lord Sebaston Farman, the Lord of Fair Isle, and is the wife of Ser Gareth Clifton. A former childhood friend of Cersei Lannister and companion, she spend her early days at Casterly Rock, attending to Lady Joanna and taking her courtly lessons from her as well making companionship with Cersei. She accompanied Cersei and Melara Hetherspoon into the tent of Maggy the Frog during the tournament in honor of Viserys's birth in 276 AC, to hear their futures told. When Maggy opened her eyes, Jeyne fled into the night, never hearing her future. Jeyne has at least 12 children, all surviving to infancy and is now at King's Landing. Canon. Song Era.

Lord Sebaston Farman: Sebaston Farman is the Lord of Fair Isle and the head of House Farman. His sister, Jeyne, is married to Ser Gareth Clifton and was a former friend of Cersei while childhood. Sebaston used to squire for Tywin Lannister in his youth and spend time there as companion to Addam Marbrand and Jaime Lannister. The Red Wedding has caused Sebaston to doubt House Farman support to the Lannister, as the sacred act of guest rights was broken and the Farman are superticious regarding prophecies and rites. Canon. Song Era.

Kasporio: Kasporio, who styles himself Kasporio the Cunning, is a bravo who serves as the second-in-command of the Second Sons, a sellsword company. He wields a slender bravo's blade with a jeweled hilt, and wears a slashed pink doublet. Sometimes cruel, dismissive and swift but a generous lover. As the second siege of Meereen resumes, Kasporio goes with Brown Ben Plumm to visit Malazza, the Girl General. After they return he attends the meeting Ben has called. During the meeting he remarks that Malazza and Gorzhak zo Eraz, whom he calls "Pudding Face", are no better than one another. Canon. Song Era.

The Merling Queen: The Merling Queen is a famous courtesan in Braavos, her given name is Nereia but only her highest ranking lovers, who pay for her expenses know it. She is said to enjoy having relationships in water, and her hair makes her stand out among Braavos, she is the first Merling Queen of Braavos and she is said to be a woman from Westeros, stolen as a child and taken to Braavos, who started as a helper of another courtesan and rose to her own rank due her beauty. The beautiful Merling Queen is never seen without her Mermaids, young maidens in the blush of their first flowering, to hold her hair and veil. Like every Braavosi courtesan, she has her own barge, and servants to pole her through the canals of Braavos to her trysts. Canon. Song Era.

The Nightingale: The Nightingale is a famous courtesan in Braavos. Her given name is unknown. She is however, candidly named Gale by those who are around her and who sleep with her or pay her services. Originally from Tyrosh, she worked in a pleasure house in Tyrosh before founding true fame and status in Braavos. In this city, the Courtesans seem to hold certain type of power and Gale sends messages and information of some of her clients to sellsword companies. She is renowned for her beauty. Like every Braavosi courtesan, she has her own barge and servants to pole her to trysts. In Braavos, men are challenged to a duel by bravos if they do not say that the Nightingale is the most beautiful woman in the world when asked. Canon. Song Era.

Moonshadow: The Moonshadow is a famous courtesan in Braavos. Her given name is unknown. However, she gained the nickname of Shade, taken from her courtesan name. The beautiful Moonshadow wears only white and silver. Like every Braavosi courtesan, she has her own barge and servants to pole her to trysts. The Moonshadow gives Dareon a kiss for singing so wonderfully by the Moon Pool in Braavos. All is known of her is that her mother or father were from Dorne and she was paid to be given proper lodging and raised as a courtesan. She is hired by both men and women, in the case of women, to teach them how to pleasure their husband. Canon. Song Era.

Dārilaros Jaeson Veltheos of Tyrosh: Jaeson Veltheos is from one of the ancient houses of Tyrosh who survived the Doom of Valyria and stablished power in Tyrosh after the dragonriders were killed alongside dragons. Jaeson is a maester of ships and a sailor. He is the heir of his house, given the title of Darilaros, meaning Prince or Princess in High Valyrian. Jaeson shows support for Daenerys Targaryen and offers her more Tyrosh sellswords and ships, in exchange he wants one of her heirs or herself to wed a Veltheos, as previous Targaryen had taken Tyroshi wives or lovers. OC. Song Era.

Riña Dārilaros Ember Assharis of Myr: Her title comes from Valyrian and can be roughly translated to Lady Prince or Lady Princess. Ember is one of the first women on her House to inherit the title of heir, which is why many use it as Lady Prince. The Assharis family had come first from Asshai by the Shadow and worship the Red God, R'hallor and Ember herself praises Nissa Nissa, she was taught in a Red Temple and is known to have visions. House Assharis, unlike the other houses who have Valyrian features or some features, they have Asshai'i features, like Melisandre, Ember has ruby quartz like eyes. She is said to be warm to touch. OC. Song Era.

[cdragons]

Stannis Baratheon x Second Wife Yi TI!OC ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ - Masterlist

Read for context

Summary: Let’s pretend Yi Ti and Westeros have an okay trading relationship with each other, and merchants from Yi Ti are always treated with celebrity status in the Seven Kingdoms. Let's also pretend that the GOT writers haven't completely fucked up all of Stannis' fantastic characterization and complexity. Let's pretend Selyse bit the dust when Shireen was a baby, and her death fixed all of GOT's shitty endings! Join Xú Měilíng as she and her future daughter (not Shireen) become key players in the Game of Thrones, as House Stark's and House Baratheon's survival is entirely due to them!

Main Pairings(s): Stannis Baratheon x Second Wife!OC (Xú Měilíng); Shireen Baratheon x Rickon Stark; Robb Stark x Yi Tish!OC (Měilíng's daughter from first marriage, name TBD); Margaery Tyrell x Yi Tish!OC (Měilíng's daughter from first marriage, name TBD)

Platonic or Unrequited Love Pairings(s): Jon Snow & Yi Tish!OC (Měilíng's daughter from first marriage, name TBD); Theon Greyjoy & Yi Tish!OC (Měilíng's daughter from first marriage, name TBD); Ned Stark & Stannis' Second Wife!OC (Xú Měilíng); Robert Baratheon & Stannis' Second Wife!OC (Xú Měilíng)

Warning(s): MDNI 18+; Domestic Abuse; Child Abuse; Canon-Typical Misogyny, Sexism, Racism; Future Smut; Rhaegar Targaryen & Lyanna Stark will NOT be portrayed in a flattering light 😬

Chapter 1 - When East Winds Blow

Chapter 2 - The Careful Fawn & The Curious Wind

Chapter 3 - The Eastern Wind & Moon Sail to Winterfell

[west1rosi]

STARTER CALL: MAIN TIMELINE.

like   this   post   for   a   starter   from   one   of   the   muses   of   main timeline of asoiaf.   if   you   are   a   multimuse,   please   specify   your   muses.   make   sure   to   also   choose   one   of   mine   or   at   least,   choose   a   few   for   me   to   pick   from.   only   liking   and   not   specifying   will   be   ignored.

muse list of main asoiaf timeline era:

lord tywin lannister. faceclaim : charles dance.

lady elyra brax (oc). faceclaim : jessica alexander.

king viserys iii targaryen. faceclaim : harry lloyd.

king robert baratheon. faceclaim: mark addy.

princess orysa baratheon (oc). faceclaim : jennie jacques.

gendry baratheon. faceclaim : joe dempsey.

theon greyjoy. faceclaim : alfie allen.

captain indya sunderly (oc). faceclaim : jessie mei li.

lady myranda royce. faceclaim :  yuliya khlynina.

lord ned stark. faceclaim : sean bean.

lady catelyn stark. faceclaim : michelle fairley.

queen jeyne westerling. faceclaim :  synnove karslen.

lord asher forrester. faceclaim : liam mcintyre.

lady mara mormont (oc). faceclaim : matilda de argelis.

lady jeyne poole. faceclaim : elinor crowley.

wylla manderly. faceclaim : alice agneson.

val of the free folk. faceclaim : frida gustavsson.

prince doran martell. faceclaim : alfredo castro.

prince oberyn martell. faceclaim : pedro pascal.

princess arianne martell. faceclaim : yvette monreal.

lady regent, allyria dayne. faceclaim :  marina moschen. 

lord edmure tully. faceclaim : tobias menzies.

lady roslin tully. faceclaim : rose williams.

ser patrek mallister. faceclaim : aneurin barnard.

marq piper. faceclaim :  jose ramon barreto.

alerie tyrell. faceclaim : joely richarson.

olenna tyrell. faceclaim : diana rigg.

lord willas tyrell. faceclaim :  gwilym lee.

ryna hightower. faceclaim : danielle rose russell.

elinor tyrell. faceclaim :  isabela merced.

margaery tyrell. faceclaim : natalie dormer

lady mina redwyne. faceclaim : claire ferlini.

lady desmera redwyne. faceclaim : charlotte hope.

meredyth crane. faceclaim : caitlin stasey.

jocelyn swyft. faceclaim: tamsin egerton.

addam marbrand. faceclaim: toby stephens.

lady alyssane lefford. faceclaim: sarah bolger.

lady shyra errol. faceclaim: holliday grainger.

alys karstark. faceclaim: gevenieve gaunt.

marei hill. faceclaim: eloise smyth.

ardrian celtigar. faceclaim : tony leung.

syrenia celtigar. faceclaim : dianne doan.

harras harlow. faceclaim : daniel sharman.

ser jorah mormont. faceclaim : iain glen.

[rp-partnerfinder]

21+. She/Her. Please be 21+ to interact! I have three fandoms on my mind right now that I would love to get threads going with: Baldur's Gate 3 (BG3), Game of Thrones (GoT), and Marvel/Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU).

I'll only be listing my main muses for each (there might be others I'm willing to try out). I'm pretty open when it comes to discussing ships. I do prefer canon x canon but canon x OC is fine too. I can do MxM, MxF, or FxF. I like incorporating NSFW/smut into threads (the plot/smut ration can be anything). If you'd rather not, please let me know from the get-go. 🌹

My Muses:

Baldur's Gate 3: Abdirak, Alfira, Astarion Ancunín, Cazador Szarr, Enver Gortash, Gale Dekarios, Ketheric Thorm, Raphael, Relonor (my male Drow Dark Urge), Rolan, Shadowheart, Zevlor

Game of Thrones: Alliser Thorne, Benjen Stark, Beric Dondarrion, Daenerys Targaryen, Jaime Lannister, Margaery Tyrell, Petyr Baelish, Robb Stark, Roose Bolton, Sansa Stark, Stannis Baratheon, Thoros, Tywin Lannister, Yoren

Marvel: Benjamin Poindexter, Billy Russo, Bruce Banner, Bucky Barnes, Carol Danvers, Frank Castle, Grant Ward, Loki Laufeyson, Nathan Summers, Andrew!Peter Parker, Phil Coulson, Ray Nadeem, Reed Richards, Tony Stark, Victor von Doom

I write on Discord or through Tumblr messages. I do not double, and it may take me a few days to reply because I work full-time during the week and may not always be available on the weekend.

If you're interested in doing something with me, I'll reach out to you when you like this post.

.