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[valleyof-goldenlilies]

Se Zaldrizoti’ Prumia - Chapter 1: A Platter of Grapes (Daemon Targaryen x Tyrell!Reader)

Chapter 1: A Platter of Grapes 

The Red Keep is graced by an old, familiar presence. 

Se Zaldrīzoti' Prūmia Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | 

HOTD Masterlist | Main Masterlist | 

Warnings: Extremely, and I mean extreme slow burn lol, Daemon and Y/N both being little shits who cannot stand each other, I have a blood feud with the HOTD costuming department for Rhaenyra and thus I go into extreme (probably historical inaccurate) detail about the clothes of the characters, Rhaenicent hints so faint that if you blink you’d miss it 

Word Count: 3.3k words

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire and Blood characters, save for Y/N Tyrell, although I did expand on their characterisation, which might deviate from canon. All credit for the characters goes to George RR Martin and the showrunners of HOTD. The GIF above is also not mine, original credit to the creator is stated above. Go check them out! 

A/N: A special thanks to all those who have reblogged my ‘Se Zaldrizoti’ Prumia’ related posts 💗 your support is truly appreciated and has been the source of my smiles over the past few days 

lovely dividers courtesy of @firefly-graphics​ !

105 years after Aegon’s Conquest

Queen Aemma’s chambers was a busy hive of activity, as usual. The queen’s serving girls, ladies-in-waiting, and Grand Maester Mellos went in and out of the Queen’s apartments in a constant rotation, fussing over the heavily pregnant Aemma’s every need or discomfort. Aemma herself was exhausted at the constant fussing and prodding, but Viserys was deeply concerned about the babe in Aemma’s womb - which he insisted with vehement conviction was a son, and therefore must be treated with the utmost level of care, and after five failed attempts at producing an heir, Aemma had learnt over the years that to be overcautious was not necessarily a bad thing. 

Aemma sat sprawled on her lounge, occasionally grimacing when a sharp ache rippled through her body should she choose to adjust herself. Clad in a simple white linen shift and an intricately embroidered rose pink robe of Myrish silk and lace, she felt beads of sweat beginning to form at her temples once more. Her pregnancy had cursed her to endure bout after bout of severe sweating, despite the fact that it was nigh autumn and the ladies of the court had taken to long sleeves and wrapping shawls around their shoulders. Closing her eyes and dabbing at her forehead wearily, she sincerely hoped that the babe in her belly would be the boy Viserys had so longed for, if it meant that she would stop being plagued with the labours of pregnancy.

Her tired expression fell in an instant, replaced by a radiant smile as a woman dressed in a light green linen gown with long bell sleeves walked into her view, nodding politely to the exiting Grand Maester. “You finally came back,” Aemma joked lightly, watching the woman take a seat on the cushioned stool next to Aemma’s recliner. “I was afraid you got sidetracked and forgot about my grapes.” 

The woman’s (Y/E/C) eyes flickered with amusement. “I could never dare forget about you, my queen. You would have me beheaded and my head placed on a spike if I did.” Aemma let out a laugh as she reached over to pluck a grape from the bowl in Y/N’s hands. Y/N shook her head at the queen’s lack of dining decorum, but offered up the much awaited platter of grapes to Aemma’s eager hands regardless. “And pray tell, what shall I do if I had executed my favourite and most competent lady-in-waiting, hmm?” Aemma jested, shoving three grapes into her mouth. It was definitely not something a queen should be doing, but Y/N had been Aemma’s lady-in-waiting for nearly two years, and her friend for far longer. Decorum was not a concept that existed between the two of them. 

“You flatter me, Your Grace. And slow down, the grapes will not fly away.” I chided gently, as Aemma continued shoving three grapes at a time into her mouth. “The grapes won’t, although I’m afraid Rhaenyra will. Didn’t she say she would come to see me at first light? It’s nearly midday.” Just then, like clockwork, a commotion could be heard near the entrance to the Queen’s apartments. Princess Rhaenyra and Lady Alicent Hightower’s voice could be heard laughing together among the subservient voices of the servants greeting the two of them. “Speak ill of the Stranger,” I laughed, as Rhaenyra and Alicent appeared in view, smiling with their arms linked. 

Rhaenyra was wearing a silk gown of soft gold, with butterfly sleeves. The bodice had a ribbed triangular corset that was cinched at the waist, and the skirt parted at the middle to reveal a layer of dark crimson brocade, with faint scrollwork detailing in tiny golden threads. A similarly coloured velvet shawl patterned with gold-threaded dragons was draped over her shoulders, to protect her from the chill. Meanwhile Alicent was clad in a gown of light blue worsted yarn, with bell sleeves going to just above her wrists. A thin layer of cream muslin peeked out of her sleeves and ruffles of the same material covered her collarbones modestly. Blue roses were sewn around her waistline, and olive leaves were embroidered around the neckline of her dress. I suppressed a smile when I noticed a garden violet tucked between Alicent’s reddish brown locks, and a similar one nestled in the princess’ white-blonde tresses. 

Rhaenyra immediately went over to Aemma, Alicent staying a respectful distance away. “Your Grace,” Alicent smiled and curtsied politely to Aemma, and Aemma greeted her warmly, “Good morrow, Lady Alicent.” “Mother, Y/N”, Rhaenyra crouched down next to Aemma, holding out a hand to stop me when I stood up to offer her my seat. 

Rhaenyra wrinkled her nose when she noticed her mother clad in such thin clothes, and started detangling her shawl from her shoulders, but Aemma only shook her head with an affectionate smile and stilled Rhaenyra’s motions by cupping her cheek with one hand. “It has been quite long since first light, has it not? You have forgotten about your poor royal mother, Rhaenyra.” 

Rhaenyra rolled her eyes, though her voice was tender. “Forgive me, Mother. But the weather was far too lovely for me not to take Syrax out for a flight. She has been growing lazy as of late.” Aemma snorted softly, adjusting a braid that had loosened from Rhaenyra’s hairdo. “Now that explains the dragon stench overwhelming my apartments then. You are lucky that Y/N was kind enough to accompany me during your absence.” “Is it not my duty, my Queen?” I teased, “Unless you find my company repulsive, of course.” Aemma pursed her lips thoughtfully, although her eyes were filled with mischief as she said, “Your company is delightful as always, although the waiting time for my food to be brought up is quite outrageous.” “Then I shall pray to the Seven that they might bestow on me the power of flight to serve you better, your Grace.”

“Seven hells!” Rhaenyra cursed, fumbling in her pockets. “Rhaenyra! Language,” Aemma scolded. “What is it?” I asked, concerned. Rhaenyra groaned in frustration, “I had a present for Mother, but I must have dropped it in the throne room when I was showing it to father yesterday.” “How careless,” Aemma chided, although her tone was soft as Rhaenyra bit her lip and hung her head slightly. She must’ve really wanted to give the present to Aemma. 

“Why don’t I go retrieve it?” I offered, standing up and smoothing my dress. “The kitchens are but a stone’s throw away from the throne room, and I am certain Your Grace’s appetite for grapes has not yet been sated.” 

Rhaenyra’s eyes shone with gratitude, “Yes please! Thank you, Y/N.” “Tis nothing, princess. What does it look like?” “It’s a necklace, with a ruby falcon pendant, ” Rhaenyra described, “I got it to remind Mother of home.” “Oh Rhaenyra,” Aemma murmured softly, a soft look of love flooding her face. Rhaenyra held her hand tightly, “There was a sapphire one, but I thought the ruby one would be fitting. For both your Arryn and Targaryen roots.” Aemma squeezed her daughter’s hand, “I will cherish it fiercely forever, as I do with all your gifts.” My face took on a wistful expression as I watched mother and daughter interact and I spoke softly, “Worry not, princess, I will find it and bring it here.” 

I retreated out of the room, returning Alicent’s smile with one of my own as I passed her on my way out of the room, but not before Aemma called out to me, “Make sure you make haste! Your queen desires for more grapes!” “Of course, my Queen!” I called back, grinning. 

The throne room was blissfully unguarded, which signified the absence of the King, and by extension, any nosy courtiers who might frown upon me fumbling around the throne room like a sneaking rat. ‘Perfect, no need for awkward pleasantries then.’ I opened the double doors leading to the throne room, shutting the doors with a heavy thunk. My eyes took a while to adjust to the gloom of the throne room, but I nearly let out a shriek when I saw a shadowy figure sitting on the throne room. Was that the king? And if so, why in the Seven Hells was he sitting in a darkened throne room? 

“Byka zaldrīzes,” an all too familiar voice called out. My heart thumped furiously in my chest as my mouth dropped open in disbelief.

No. No way. He was somewhere floating around in Lys, if court gossip was to be believed. It couldn’t be him. 

“Won’t you come closer? It’s only been 8 years since we last saw each other. Surely you haven’t forgotten me.” 

Daemon Targaryen. Second son of Prince Baelon and Princess Alyssa, younger brother of king Viserys, and the most annoying royal pain in my ass. 

His petulance and near unnatural ability to be able to get on every single nerve in my body had caused me to become a devoted practitioner of self-restraint, given how badly I longed to throttle him or slit his throat with a dagger whenever he was near me. But much to my consternation, societal propriety rendered me unable to challenge him in a duel or even brawl with him, like most boys would do to sort out their differences. But even so, it was not in my nature to silently endure the countless pranks and jests he tormented me with, and thus I often paid him back tenfold for every misdeed he committed against me. My mother was chagrined, while Prince Baelon and Viserys merely laughed and observed our antics with much amusement, along with the rest of the court. 

My lips twisted in a frown, and my heart still beating fast from the initial shock, I walked closer to the Iron Throne. “As much as I’d like to, your memory still leaves an unwanted stain in my mind.” The figure sitting languidly on the throne leaned forward as I approached, making me finally catch a glimpse of the boy whom I used to detest with every fibre of my being. Although he certainly bore no resemblance to the annoying brat I detested. 

Gone was the lankier frame of his youth. In his stead, it was a man, of tall stature and strong muscular frame, honed by years of intense sword training and puberty. His hair had lengthened considerably since the last time I saw it, and my lips twitched in amusement as I remembered how I had once cut it off when we were children as retribution for him dousing me with a bucket of Arbor Gold while he and I were sneaking around the Red keep late at night, him claiming that he had something interesting to show me. I treasured the memory of that deliciously girlish scream he let out when he realised I had dared cut his precious white-blonde locks. His face had lost its roundness over the years as well, becoming lean and chiselled, lending a harsher quality to his expression, but it only seemed to accentuate his daring and dangerous beauty, or at least, if you listened to the giggles of the twittering ladies of court. His eyes, still filled with that same mischievous glint, watched me as I stood in front of the throne, raking over me shamelessly. I rolled my eyes at that, at least some things never changed. 

“Ah, but you remember me nonetheless.” 

“The emphasis was on the word ‘unwanted’, your Grace.” 

He laughed, leaning back against the throne leisurely as he stared at Y/N. ‘It was a sheer marvel his body was not littered with a thousand cuts by now,’ Y/N thought, a scowl on her face. 

“I see the years have finally taught you some manners. I couldn’t remember the last time you addressed me formally. You always had some rather…colourful turn of phrases up your sleeves, however. Maybe the years of looking for a prospective marriage match have taught you some decorum.” 

I narrowed my eyes at him, the vein in my neck beginning to tick in annoyance, as it always did around him. “You know they say, people age slower when they get married. You are living proof that the saying is false.” He let out a throaty laugh, crossing his legs as his voice took on a mocking tone. “I see your lack of marriage prospects have turned you from sour to bitter, byka zaldrizes.” 

I bristled, “Stop calling me that. Why are you here?” “I heard there was a tournament being held in my honour. I should be in attendance since all this heraldry was made on my account, should I not?” “The tournament is for the King’s heir.” Daemon learned forward again, his tone edged with menace, and defiance. “Precisely as I said.” 

I shook my head, duly unimpressed. “There is no need for you to be sitting on the Iron Throne though. Tis not your place.” Daemon scoffed, “And who are you to command me? I am a Targaryen prince, I sit where I please.” “The King would disagree with that if he were here.” I fired back. 

Suddenly, I remembered I was here on an errand, not for idle chat, so in a huff of frustration, I turned away from the offending prince and began to search the halls for a glint of red anywhere. “Running away, byka zaldrīzes?” I gritted my teeth, resisting the urge to punch him in his smug face. Calm down, Y/N, you already did that once, and by the Seven Hells, the consequences were absolutely not worth it. “Unfortunately, I am here on an errand, not for childish bickering, your Grace.” I heard a faint sound of footsteps behind me, but I ignored them as I continued to pace around the vast empty room. No sign of any necklace at all. I groaned internally. Perhaps I should’ve asked Rhaenyra for more instructions before taking on the task. 

“Could the errand be this?” I whirled around, finding the Prince in far too close a proximity for my liking, a smirk on his lips and a necklace with a ruby falcon dangling from his raised right hand. My eyes widened, chest sagging in relief as I beheld the necklace. “Yes. Oh thank the Seven,” I reached out to grab the necklace, but Daemon only snatched it back. I let out a strangled noise of frustration, “Hey!” 

Daemon leaned in closer, pressing me against a pillar uncomfortably. “Thank the Seven? I think that they shouldn’t be the one you’re directing your thanks to,” he murmured softly. Goosebumps broke out on my skin, as I glared into his eyes. His infuriatingly, inhumanely beautiful purple eyes. Damn him. “Back up.” I hissed. Daemon seemed to take it as an invitation to lean in closer, his face was mere centimetres from mine now. My breathing became more uneven, feeling a mix of frustration and another strange feeling I couldn't place. “Are you going to punch me again if I don’t?” he whispered softly, his eyes sparkling with deviousness and mischief. “Yes,” I hissed. 

“However, if you take a step back, I might find it in me to thank you for your nosiness in picking up things that do not belong to you.” “Yet if it were not for me, you might have needed to scour the whole of King’s Landing to find this little trinket.” He withdrew from me with a smirk, and I huffed, glaring at him. “Well? I’m impatiently awaiting your gratitude, byka zaldrizes.” Gritting my teeth, I finally bit out, “Thank you, Your Grace. Will you please return me the necklace now? The princess is in need of it.” 

A rough laugh escaped him. “Now that’s more like it. You’re very welcome, my lady.” He dropped the necklace into my waiting hand, eyes watching me as I clasped the falcon pendant in my hand and internally praised the Seven for being able to find it, although through an unconventional method. “You changed a lot, you know,” he said, his eyes still studying my face. “That’s to be expected. It’s been 8 years. You have changed too.” “You’re quieter,” he observed. “Well, I can hardly scream at you now that we’re both adults, can I? I have a reputation to maintain.” 

The prince scoffed at that, “Reputation. Lady Primrose always stressed about that. I didn’t think you’d take her lessons to heart.” “She was my mother, Your Grace. And she is correct about the importance of reputation, especially as I am chief lady-in-waiting to the queen now.” I chided him. He chuckled darkly, “The topic of reputation is not one I much care for. You should know that better than anyone, my lady.” I raised my eyebrows, “Is that why you came back to court without Lady Royce then?” Daemon rolled his eyes, “That boring cunt is the least of my worries. Court is already dreadfully dull. Should I need to suffer in her presence for any longer, I might just mount my own head on a spike.” “I always thought you a warrior, but it seems you are a coward in the face of marriage.” I mocked. I could see Daemon’s face scrunch up with anger at my claim, and I smirked, relishing in how he still had the same sore spots he did when we were children. Classic Daemon. 

Daemon felt fury bubble up in him, like a kettle dangerously close to boiling point. Seeing her smirk however, made him forgo his initial angry outburst and settle for a sharper, more hurtful one. “Bold words for someone who keeps rejecting marriage proposals. If there’s anyone who is a coward, I would say it’s you, my lady.” The vein in my neck was probably protruding to the high heavens by now. I longed to yell at him, like I always did back in my girlhood, but I couldn’t, because he was right. Yelling would only prove his point and allow him the pleasure of gloating. I was not about to rise up to his bait. Turning away from him, I walked out of the hall briskly. “It was a pleasure seeing you, your Grace, but I’m afraid I must be off. I hope we never have the misfortune to cross paths again.” 

My hand was on the brass door handle when I heard him call my name once more. “Y/N?” Rolling my eyes, I kept my back turned away from him. “Yes, your Grace?” 

“I was sorry to hear about Lady Primrose’s passing.” I stiffened at his unexpected condolences. I hadn’t thought about my mother in a very long time. “She was as much of a mother to me as she was to you” I tilted my head downward, closing my eyes for a brief moment. “It has been 7 years since she passed. There is no need to offer your condolences…but I appreciate it nonetheless.” 

Daemon heard the doors to the throne room slam shut. His eyes still cast on the door Y/N had just left from, he tilted his head slightly. A soft chuckle resonated through the throne room. ‘Same old Y/N’, he thought to himself, a smile curling at his lips, ‘but…different somehow.’ Oddly enough, he felt his heart twinge for some reason at her sudden departure. He had not realised how silent these past 8 years have been, not until today.

Queen Aemma was delighted with her daughter’s present, although a bit put out that her lady-in-waiting had arrived back at her chambers with no grapes in sight. But observing the mildly murderous glint in Y/N’s eyes, Aemma wisely kept her mouth shut. She wondered what had happened to make Y/N so annoyed, but then she let slip an amused chuckle as realisation dawned on her. 

Daemon.

translation: byka zaldrīzes: little dragon

And that’s the first chapter! If you loved it so far, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated :) Thank you for reading! Chapter 2 should be out in the next week or so! Let me know if you wished to be added to a taglist in the comments or through this form 

[indoril-nerevar]

I feel like the Nerevarine could be an Heir of Hope. Like, the whole prophetic nature of inheriting the hope of the people of Morrowind and defeating Dagoth Ur. And notions of 'inviting change' of Hope, since the actions of the player character can have quite wide repercussions, both good and bad

the nerevarine and the other Big Heroes all majorly depend on how u play em ofc and how ur specific nerevarine does things, but i think heir of hope (or at least heir) could fit for an interpretation of em! esp w the inheritance aspect, and if you Do believe in them rly bein neht’s reincarnation, them Literally Becoming Nerevar as a symbol of hope works too

i was sort of stuck w them being like a Maid of Blood that ghosts breath, if that makes sense? they rely on other people to be told what to do and who to get along with while wishing for something different/wanting to be alone, up until the point where they rly bring people together. but im still kind of iffy on it besides blood and breath being involved so wavyhand. the nerevarine seems a lot more difficult than the hok or dragonborn bc theres many different ways u can take it compared to the other storylines

[seyaryminamoto]

Did you outline the entirety of Gladiator or do you create new arcs as you go along?

Gladiator is by far the most complicated story I have ever plotted. I’m pretty sure it shows, but it’s been a large-scale mess that I’ve tried to put together to the best of my ability. So many threads to bring together, so much that needs to be addressed in a world where the Fire Nation has virtually won the war… so it’s been a very long process.

I’ve been working on this story for 6 years now. I think I can safely say, around this point in time, that I have all arcs and important plotlines planned out. And even then, I only finished planning out what the General of Ozai’s Imperial Guards has been doing behind Ozai’s back around a couple of weeks ago. 

I suppose it might sound insane, especially as I’ve always held on to some of my original ideas on where to take the story. I probably plotted the events from chapter 97 around two days into planning the story. I plotted the eventual Combustion Man confrontation since day 1, I believe? But as the scope of Gladiator is so big, it’s a whole complicated process of steering things along carefully towards the direction I want for the story.

It must have taken me over a year to know what was the actual route the story would take for Part 3. After a lot of input by a friend, which left me in a bit of a strange position briefly because, while I didn’t dislike the ideas, I didn’t know what to make of them right away either, I eventually glimpsed a better outcome than the ones I’d been toying with so far. Ever since I figured where we were headed, a lot of the worldbuilding and sideplots have been geared towards developing the world into what it will have to become for Part 3. Some things may feel irrelevant right now, I suppose, but ultimately they won’t be. Nearly all characters, new or old, canon or OCs, will have a part to play in the story’s future. I can only hope that Part 3 will indeed do the rest of the story justice, but I’m confident that it’s the best direction I could be choosing for Gladiator.

There were several arcs and storylines that I did come up with later down the line: for instance, Hahn’s involvement in the story has been a late-ish addition, even though he’s going to bring in an important element for Part 3 (and for Zhao’s motivations to conquer the north). There’s an arc in the navigator right now, the Gladiators and Sponsors Race event, and it’s also a relatively late addition to the story. Azula’s confirmation as Ozai’s heir was also a late addition, something I came up with probably a couple of months before writing the scene where Ozai tells Azula he wants to declare her his heir. Hell, this may even sound completely bonkers but Azula’s homeless people situation was something I came up with like… DAYS before writing it. That wasn’t planned beforehand AT ALL, even though it has become a pretty important wedge that drives Ozai and Azula apart (plus it gave me the excuse for Azula’s speech in the festivals and I am ever delighted I wrote that). As for Haru’s family’s arc, for a very long time I had planned for Tyro to be alive, but eventually I realized it might just make more sense if he wasn’t. It would hike up the stakes, and on top of that, it would give Azula the motivation to take action about slavery even if Ozai was going to shut her down. And what started in Haru’s family arc through Tyro’s death will have a huge impact on everything that will come in the Slave Riot arc, and everything that comes next.

So… it’s not a straightforward process. It’s more like going forward, then backtracking, then going further back and then modifying what’s ahead if the lead-up doesn’t fit…? There’s a lot of tinkering to do for plotlines to work, for characters to develop in the way they need to. It’s hard work… but I can’t deny I love tying up old arcs with new ones, showing that nearly nothing is inconsequential, and that as much as it’s a slow-going process, our two main leads are moving forward to change a world what direly needs people with their abilities and leadership to take a stand for what they truly believe in.

If you’re curious about what I’d been planning before my friend’s input helped me find a whole new direction for the entire story…

Sokka was going to become Ozai’s gladiator. Yeah. I have no idea how I went from “Ozai discovers them” to “Ozai hires the guy who destroyed his daughter’s virtue”, but I did indeed. And it made as little sense when I came up with it as it does now that I’m telling you about it.

Sokka and Azula weren’t going to have half as many romantic moments in Part 1 as they did. I actually had planned for the first chaotic kiss, and then they would stay perfectly professional and pining over each other hopelessly until 97. Haha. I sure overestimated my willpower AND theirs.

After 97, though, I didn’t use to have remotely as many plans as I do with Part 2 right now. I knew I didn’t want them to be caught right away, but I didn’t think I’d extend things as long as I have because I had virtually no idea of where we were headed and how to get there. I didn’t know what needed to be set up, and so, I didn’t know if there’d be any story to tell beyond “Ozai caught them”. So, I had assumed I would give them a few months of romantic bliss only to tear them apart shortly after.

Back when things were very nebulous and new, I wasn’t sure about aging up Aang despite I think my explanation for him being older isn’t all that absurd. So, initially he was going to be a little 12-year-old kid amongst a bunch of grown-ups. Even then, I wanted Zuko to go south but I had no idea HOW to get him there. At that point in time, Zutara was a possibility for the story. When I decided to age up Aang, and Suki became a larger player, I realized there was a much smoother possibility by pairing them up with different characters instead (and frankly, Zuko’s character development via Zuki has made me feel so much better about him that I am really, REALLY glad I picked the current storyline over this one).

Zuko was, at one point, going to become a gladiator. It’s something a lot of people asked for, so I, being the easily-swayed fool I was, thought it might be a good idea for him to be the Blue Spirit. I can’t remember who I came up with as a possible sponsor for him, maybe the fact that I couldn’t even come up with a sponsor is the true reason why I ditched this idea.

Katara was also going to be a gladiator: Azula’s. Yeah. After Ozai took Sokka, Katara was SOMEHOW going to end up in the Capital and Azula was going to hire her in some nonsensical bid to save Sokka from her father. Where’s the logic? I dunno, I’ve been wondering the same thing for the last 6 years.

I didn’t have any clue who was going to be Fire Lord, and I actually didn’t realize Azula was going to have every right and reason to be the one to inherit the throne until relatively later in the game. It sounds so dumb now, I’m sure, but for a time I had taken for granted Zuko would be Fire Lord (must be I subconsciously bought all his talk about his MANIFEST DESTINY…! until I didn’t :’DDD).

There really wasn’t going to be much of a war left to fight anymore. The White Lotus wasn’t going to have a particularly important role, and I had no intentions of bringing Ursa in until Yang’s story displeased me enough that I decided I had to tell my own take on Ursa’s disappearance, if just to put it out there. Anyhow, going back to the White Lotus subject, it meant that someone killing Ozai was going to be the only way to end the mess of the 100+ year war because I had zero confidence about writing big battle scenes (tbh I still don’t? but I’m still going to give it a shot).

Toph and Iroh were going to be largely irrelevant. I mean, now that I look back on it, their roles were merely going to be about antagonizing Sokka and Azula for as long as they could. I had no intentions to make them friends with Toph, and I didn’t really plan to feature Iroh in a particularly plot-relevant role until, well… :’D until the White Lotus attacked, oops.

Ultimately, everything was going to boil down to conflicts between the show’s core cast (and not even all of it, like I said Toph, Iroh and Suki weren’t particularly relevant all along), and OCs weren’t important in my plans at all. Poor Rui Shi only became relevant when I wrote chapter 7, I believe, and he first tried to defy Azula’s commands. Kino outright didn’t exist until… way past a year after I started the story. I literally came up with him after I went to bed and I forgot about him the next morning. I spent HOURS beating myself about remembering what I had come up with until he finally came to me again xD Side characters like Song, or even Shoji, were added mostly for the fun of bringing in familiar characters from the show at first. Eventually they gained relevance for reasons far more important than their brief appearances in the show, Song in particular.

My idea for Sokka and Azula getting back together in Part 3 was… probably a big reason why I didn’t feel comfortable with my general outlining back then. It’s not that it was TERRIBLE, but it didn’t make much sense for a dramatic reunion to take place when they would have, arguably, been living in the same Palace for a while if Ozai took Sokka as his gladiator :’D therefore, it was generally pretty anticlimactic, melodramatic, and I knew I needed something better than that.

I can’t remember much else of my early, scrapped plans. Virtually everything plot-related I’ve written up here is completley discarded now, which is why I feel free to disclose it all. Admittedly, this wasn’t anywhere near as bad as the reported original plans George R.R. Martin had for ASOIAF x’D but it’s not exactly good either. I’m glad that I allowed the outlining of the full plot to take as long as it had to until I had found the right direction for the story, else I would still be working with most this nonsense in mind and… Gladiator would be so much worse. I have no doubts it would be.

[fourtrisheafanfic]

One Bed, Two People (fanfic)

Title: One Bed, Two People

Rating: Mature

Ao3 Link: (X)

Summary: One Bed, Two People is a jonerys one-shot written for the 2018 Jonerys Valentine’s Week. I selected the Prompt Day 3 - - Feb. 16: Oh, No! We’re Forced to Share this Bed!  AU: Set in the country estate of Dragon Abbey in the early 1900s, depicts the lives of the aristocratic Targaryen family during the Edwardian era. When Jon Snow is tasked with escorting his step-aunt, Daenerys Targaryen, to her debut- preparation classes in London, things go terribly wrong during their journey.  **I have no rights to these characters, all belong to HBO and Author, George R.R. Martin**

FAMILY RELATIONS BACKSTORY: Rhaegar Targaryen is the current Earl of Dragon Abbey, after his first wife passed away, he married Lyanna. Which made him stepfather to Jon Snow. Rhaegar’s oldest son, Aegon (son of deceased Ellia) will be the next Earl. Jon’s biological father died when he was just a baby from a terrible fever. From birth, Jon Snow was primarily raised by his mother’s family, the Starks. Before Lyanna had remarried, Jon was raised very closely with the Starks of Winterfell. His uncle Ned (Earl of Winterfell) was always being a father figure to his nephew. Jon’s mother, Lyanna, married Rhaegar when Jon was just 8 years old. It was decided that Jon would remain with the Starks for most of the year, only spending summers in Dragon Abbey to enjoy time with his step-family. The Targaryens always welcomed him with open arms. Some years the Targaryens even sent the young Targaryen children to enjoy visits to Winterfell and be in the care of Starks. One of those children was Daenerys Targaryen, the last child of Earl Aerys, before he passed. Daenerys is the youngest sibling of Rhaegar and he cares for her deeply, always being very protective of her. Daenerys is only one year younger than her Step-nephew, Jon Snow. She was 7 when her brother married Lady Lyanna.

JON AND DANY’S BACK STORY: Rhaegar was always a kind and welcoming stepfather to his new wife’s son, Jon. Rhaegar always insisting that Jon was welcome at the large Dragon Abbey estate, insisting that Jon had become part of their family just as much as Lyanna had. Jon enjoyed his childhood summers at Dragon Abbey, but he always felt that Winterfell was his true home. As a child, the main thing Jon loved about Dragon Abbey was his spending time with his close friend, Daenerys. She was the most beautiful person Jon had ever seen, on the outside and in. Dany, as he used to call her, was funny and kind. Although she was a year younger than he, her adventurous spirit never let age or being a girl hold her back. As the children grew into young teenagers, their time together became less frequent as did their familiarity with each other.

When Daenerys became a young woman, as the last child of Aerys, she was being groomed for her sole purpose in life, marrying well in order to establish a beneficial alliance for the Targaryen family. Per etiquette of the era, her official debut, and then subsequent engagement, will take place when she turns 18. In the Edwardian era once a young girl turned eighteen, her childhood was essentially over. The moment she puts up her hair and lengthens her skirts, Dany would then be known to the world as a woman. The putting up of the hair was the most important aspect of signifying one’s status as a young woman ready for marriage.

Even though Jon Snow was a young man from a good family, he still has no large estate to inherit. Jon had recently decided that he would never marry, instead he moved to London to study law and would eventually work as a lawyer in London for a few years. Then one day he would move back to Winterfell and assist his cousin, Robb, in the management of the large estate, in return for a small estate of his own to reside in. It had also been discussed that Jon would offer his expertise to his Targaryen side of the family if they were ever in need of his help.

 ^^ A Cold Morning in Dragon Abbey ^^

“Jon, I hate to ask this of you but we are in desperate need,” Rhaegar says to his stepson across the breakfast table. “Viserys is still terribly ill, he was to escort Daenerys to London yesterday. Normally we would just postpone the trip, but she needs be there by Monday to begin her Debut-Preparation classes.”

“Debut-Preparation classes?” Jon asks out of curiosity. He notices the sour look on his mother’s face. He can tell she is not pleased. Not that it is really any of his business what Daenerys Targaryen does, but he had never heard the term used.

“Yes, it’s my training to become a fully civilized lady. My eighteenth birthday is in a few months, I must begin to learn all the rules so that I can meet society’s standards to be marriage-eligible. Time is of the essence,” Dany says with an emphatic roll of her eyes. “My brother is worried I will make a mockery of the Targaryen family without it.”

“As your aunt just proved my point, she needs to be escorted to London immediately for her classes. Both Aegon and I are needed here for the meetings with land owners that start this afternoon. I know you were not to return to London for three more days, but if you could escort Daenerys today it would be a huge help,” Rhaegar finishes, squeezing Lyanna’s hand with reassurance.

“I hate to see you leave early, son. I feel as though I hardly see you anymore. But yes, Daenerys needs to travel to London as soon as possible,” Lyanna says sadly, but she understands the importance. Her sister-in-law, who is of high social standing, will be turning eighteen shortly. Plans are already being made for her extravagant debut into society.

Jon steels a sideways glance at Dany, she looks disinterested to the outcome of their discussion. Jon remembers that they were incredibly close as children and into their early teens. But alas, things changed as they grew up. They have always remained friendly, but the deep closeness they once shared is now gone. If Jon is honest with himself, he can admit he fell in love with her the first summer he spent in Dragon Abbey. As much as an eight year old can manage to love romantically. The truth being his love for her is something that grew over the years. Jon is at peace with how things have worked out, and he is moving on with his life. He wishes her happiness in life, she is a good person and she deserves it.

Jon cringes remembering his private discussion with her stepfather the day before. Their family is still working out the possible marriage details for her to marry Loras Tyrell, future Earl of Highgarden. Jon couldn’t believe the irony when his stepfather announced he had just begun discussions with head of the family, Olena Tyrell, about the possible union. As Jon is now living in London for law school, the irony was that he had just learned that Loras is gay and quite promiscuous. Two of Jon’s own classmates having recently spent “quality time” with the Tyrell heir. Jon doesn’t personally care about anyone’s personal preferences, but he does worry for Daenerys’s well-being.

Jon broached the subject with his stepfather the night before. Rhaegar had immediately silenced him, firmly reminding Jon that Daenerys must marry for status and wealth. Loras, no matter what his personal preferences, is the best match they can secure for Lady Daenerys.  Rhaegar insisting that his highest hope is that Daenerys will marry the future Earl of Highgarden.

Jon was reminded how the world they live in works. It is not about love or even compatibility. The social status of Lady Daenerys and heir-apparent Loras makes them the perfect match. Jon has no doubt that a year from now they will already be married.

“It would be my honor to escort Lady Daenerys safely to London,” Jon answers with a polite smile.

Jon looks at Dany, and for the first time this visit he sees a small smile on her face. She seems pleased he said yes.

“When do we leave?” Jon asks.

++o++ ++o++

“Dany, please, I am fine! We have got to get the hell out of here,” Jon stresses while rummaging through the damaged carriage to grab whatever money he can find. The man that attacked their carriage broke two of the wheels, making it unusable.

“How can you say you are ‘fine’? You just killed a man, Jon! Are you sure you are okay?” Dany cries. Her eyes glaze over as she sees the two dead men laying on the ground. One is their carriage driver, who was killed shortly after the ambush started, the other is the criminal that tried to overpower them.

“I’m fine, Dany. You heard what he said, there are others further down the road that will be circling back to help him soon. They could be here any minute!” Jon says while checking the horse, thankful it is unharmed. “It will be dark soon, and now it isn’t safe to take the direct path to London. We need to head east instead, we will have to both ride on this horse. No time to gather thing, let’s go!”

Dany nods her head, she seems to be in shock from the attack. It all happened so quickly. That awful man pulling her out of the moving carriage, Jon could tell she was terrified as she was yanked out. Jon was like a man possessed, he will be eternally grateful that his stepfather had trained him at a young age to use a dagger and that he always carried one on him.

Jon has pocketed the money he found, looking anxiously over his shoulder down the main road. He doesn’t want to have another confrontation, they need to leave quickly.

“Daenerys, are you ready? We must leave now,” Jon reminds her. “What is it?”

Dany stares sadly at the dead carriage driver. “He was always so kind to me, and now he is dead. I wish Rhaegar had given us the family car instead of traveling by carriage!”

Jon turns to look at the young woman, he doesn’t know what to say to comfort her. Instead he will keep her alive and safe. “Lady Daenerys, we don’t have time for ‘what ifs’, we are leaving now. It would be a dishonor to him if you die as well. Please, get on the horse. Once we get to the next town we can send someone to…”

“Please don’t call me ‘Lady Daenerys’, it makes my skin crawl,” Dany sighs as Jon helps her onto the horse. “Thank you, Jon. For everything, you saved my life.” She says quietly.

“We aren’t safe yet, but I’m working on it,” Jon says as they change course.

++o++ ++o++

“You heard me, boy! We only have one room left, take it or leave it. There are people standing behind you that would be glad to have it!” the Innkeeper snaps at Jon. “I don’t care who you think you are!”

Jon huffs, he didn’t think things could get worse for them today. First it began pouring, he and Dany are soaked to the bone and cold. Then the previous town was completely overrun because of a local festival. And now the next town is practically full because of the overflow from the previous town.

“Of course we will take it!” Dany snaps while elbowing Jon and motioning for him to pay.

Smirking at Jon and carefully counting and then recounting the obscene amount of money he has charged them, the Innkeeper is finally satisfied. “Get your things, I don’t have all night to show you to your room!”

“I’ve told you four times already, we don’t have any things as we were just hijacked!” Jon barks. He is cold, grumpy and he can’t believe what a horrible shit of a town he has managed to find for him and Dany to stay in. But at least they are somewhat safe. He hopes.

Dany places her hand on his arm to calm him, she has been painfully quiet since the attack earlier. Jon nods in acceptance, he fights to keep his emotions in check.

While walking up the two flights of stairs Jon asks the Inn Keeper if he has any space clothes they could have. To which the Innkeeper laughs at him.

“Look around you, we are stretched to the max. Only what is already in the room for you, is what we have. People downstairs are offering to pay me money to sleep in the dining hall, just to get out of the cold rain,” the Innkeeper scolds Jon. “You and your sister should be happy to have a room at all!”

“We aren’t actually--” Jon begins before Dany interrupts.

“Thank you for your hospitality. We are just exhausted from our struggles today,” Dany says softly, pulling her hood securely in place. Jon realizes that she has left it up all this time so that her loose hair would not be seen.

Just when Jon feels as though things could not get worse, he steps into the room. Even next to him, Dany gasps in dismay.

“Before you start complaining…again…what you see here, is all you will get. And before you ask – here are my answers: We do not have extra pillows or blankets. No, there is no one coming to clean the room and in case you don’t know, dust never killed anyone. The small oven serves as the room’s fireplace and even with it on, the room will still have a chill. I am guessing it is still warmer than sitting outside in the rain. And I know the bed is small, but your sister is tiny so I’m sure you’ll make do!” The Innkeeper snaps, having anticipated all that Jon was ready to protest about.

Jon’s mouth open and closes, unable to think of anything else he was going to say. Dany kindly thanks the Innkeeper as he leaves.

Jon and Dany lock eyes after each scanning their room for the night. Suddenly both burst into laughter, it really is a terrible situation. But at least they are alive and safe.

“Are you okay with both of us staying in the same room? I don’t mind going to the dining--” Jon offers, unsure of how this will work.

“Jon!” Dany interrupts. “Please don’t leave me alone, and yes – this is perfect. We will make this work, the bed doesn’t look that small and I don’t think I would want one of our family dogs to sleep on that filthy floor,” she finishes, her voice filled with determination.

Jon nods in acceptance. As uncomfortable he imagines sleeping in the same bad as Dany, even worse would be a large distance from her. He needs to keep her safe.

“We should get ready for bed, it has been a really long day,” Dany says as she looks around.

Both of their coats are soaked from the rain, Dany’s dress had gotten wet as well. Clearing her throat before speaking, Dany appears a little nervous.

“My dress is soiled, wet and quite uncomfortable, would you be terribly offended if I sleep in my camisole and knickers?” Dany says calmly, as though she just asked Jon which side of the bed he would like to sleep on.

Jon is forced to look away, now not knowing how he will manage this. Maybe he should sleep in the hallway outside of the room. He could keep her safe while also respecting her space.

Respecting her undergarments is more like it, damn it! How will I survive this night?

“Jon?” she asks again, breaking him from his thoughts.

“Sure, Dany. Anything you decide is fine with me,” Jon assures her. He knows he will just need to be a gentleman, period.

Dany motions for Jon to turn away, he looks away while waiting until she says it is okay to look. Jon then sees that she is in the bed, with the blanket pulled to her chin. She smiles at him shyly before giggling at their situation. Jon just shakes his head and laughs too. He also motions for her to turn away from where he is standing, he needs to get ready for bed next.

Moments pass before Jon curses under his breath.

“What’s wrong?” Dany asks while turning around to lock eyes with him, her eyes then landing on his bloodied shirt.

“I wasn’t planning on taking this off tonight,” Jon begins, with no spare clothes he is not sure what else to do.

“We you aren’t wearing a blood stained shirt in this bed!” Dany exclaims, the thought sickening her while she also sees the humor in their situation.

Jon nods his head and takes his shirt off. He is surprised when he looks up and notices that Dany is quietly watching him intently with a grin on her face.

Jon is reminded of the jovial Dany he knew so well from his childhood. He smiles down at her and for the first time since the attack, he is happy she is the one to be with him during this difficult time.

“Can you turn around again? I don’t think you want to watch me take my pants off, they are also soaking wet. Oh, I’m wearing my drawers to bed…um, in case you were wondering,” Jon mumbles painfully, he is now incredibly awkward and feels like an idiot.

Dany hums playfully and just rolls over in the bed, her back to him this time. Jon admired her long silver hair that flows down her back.

Clearing his throat before approaching the bed, Jon feels his body getting excited for her. Dany slides to the far side of the bed before turning to face him. Jon immediately hunches over, prayer she doesn’t notice his huge erection as he crawls in beside her.

The bed is narrow, with one pillow and one small blanket. Jon gazes at her timidly, he is crazy about her even now. Dany finally being the first to speak.

“I think you should use the pillow, then if okay with you, when you put your arm out, I can use it as my pillow,” Dany suggests as Jon just nods uncomfortably while situating himself next to her. While trying to stay as far away from her possible, but also careful not to fall off the edge of the bed.

Jon is relieved she is facing him now, had she been turned away while fitting close to him, he knows she would have felt the large bulge in his drawers against her butt. He hopes it will go away as they fall asleep.

Lying down to face her, and then extending his arm across the top of the bed, his heart races as Dany moves closer to him.

“Jon, I won’t bite. You are about to fall off the bed, come a little closer,” Dany encourages him.

She gently lays her head on his arm, smiling softly at him as he slides closer to her. He never dreamed of a moment like this. The way that her eyes watch him move close, a soft smile on her lips.

“Thank you again,” Dany whispers after a while. “For saving me.”

Jon nods slowly, he was terrified for her when she was suddenly yanked out of the moving carriage. He went into attack mode, he knew he would save her or at least die trying.

As they listen to the crackling fire and the sound of the other breathing Jon’s eyelids begin to get heavy. Suddenly he hears her voice, feeling her soft breathe on his neck.

“Jon, are you awake?” Dany asks quietly as he nods in response. “I don’t know if we will ever have a chance like this to talk. I mean really talk.”

“I know what you mean,” Jon agrees. He never imagined he would ever have a moment of closeness like this with Dany, nor would they ever again. “What should we talk about?”

Dany snuggles closer to Jon, effectively hiding her face from him as she burrows closer to his chest. “I feel like my life as I know it is about to end,” she whispers sadly. Jon inhales sharply, clutching his fists to keep control of his body.

“Why do you say that?” He asks, frowning. Jon’s free arm moved to rubs her back gently in an attempt to comfort her.

“Things are so different for women in this world. The older I get, the less control I have,” Dany says glumly.

“Is this about those classes?”

“Those classes are just the start, Jon,” she says. “I have my role to play, and that role does not involve freedom.”

Without thinking he leans down to kiss her forehead. Dany looks up to smile at him, her eyes filled with emotions.

“You have grown up Jon Snow,” Dany says kindly while sitting up on the bed and facing him. Dany tucks her petite legs under her to not take up too much room on the bed. She appears to be more awake. “And you’ve grown to be a good man.”

Jon nods, self-conscious over her compliments. He has always cared about what she thinks.

“We used to talk about everything,” Dany says quietly, a sadness in her voice. “I know that things have changed over the years, but I have always cared for you. I’ve always wished you well.”

“I feel the same way, Dany. I will always care about you,” Jon promises her. He knows that he will care more for her then she will ever know.

“We are here, we have this time…let’s get to know each other again!” Dany says enthusiastically while rubbing her hands together excitedly.

Jon laughs at her enthusiasm and agrees.

“I’ll start. Have you ever been with a woman before?” Dany asks seriously.

Jon begins coughing, flabbergasted at her question. Dany raises her eyebrows, she seems to want her answer.

“Dany! What kind of a question is that? And no! You know I’ve not been married,” Jon sputters.

“Of course I know you have not been married. What about a prostitute? Surely in London there was ample opportunity?” Dany pushes. She seems very curious.

Jon bites his lower lip and averts his eyes for a moment, he can’t believe they are talking about this. Meeting her eyes again, Jon can see that he has her full attention.

“No prostitutes, that is just not for me,” Jon say softly, watching a small look of relief pass across her face. He shakes the thought away, that wouldn’t even make sense.

A few moments of silence pass, Jon not sure what else to say.

“Well, even though you didn’t bother to ask me, I will also share,” Dany says casually. “I have never been with a man.”

Jon begins laughing, he finds instant humor in her joke. Finally saying, “Well of course you haven’t, you should be waiting until you are married.”

Dany rolls her eyes and gives his shoulder a small shove. “And that is exactly what I was speaking about earlier!”

Jon smiles up at her, as she looks around the room he can’t stop himself from glancing down at her chest. Biting back a groan as he sees her hardened nipples through the thin material of her camisole. Her voice breaking him from his trance.

“I’ve never even had a kiss,” Dany frowns, staring at the small fireplace while speaking.

Jon frowns, remembering the servant girl at Winterfell years ago. His first and only kiss was not a memory he was fond of. She literally pinned him down and kissed him, then having shoved her tongue in his mouth. Jon blushes at the memory.

“Well I got to hear all about your first kiss, I was thirteen so you must have been fourteen,” Dany says slowly, projecting an aura of calm. “That red headed servant girl had been telling everyone that she was going to marry you.”

Jon is surprised to learn this. He had no idea that was even happening. Jon notices Dany is suddenly quiet now.

Jon also wonders if that was why the redhead and her family were sent away, her family having been let go. Now that Jon is older and has a better understanding of how things work, he knows his Uncle Ned and mother wouldn’t have liked the situation at all. Jon suddenly remembering that the redhead was older than he was, and she had desperately wanted him to “fuck her”. Those were her exact words.

Jon is lost in thought when Dany speaks again. “Did you love her? Now that you are eighteen, are you planning to find her? You are of age to marry now…” her voice trails off quietly.

Jon releases a loud laugh, shaking his head. “Of course not, I haven’t even thought of her in many years. It was just an awkward kiss, that is all,” Jon says confidently, trying to keep his eyes from lowering to Dany’s chest again.

Jon is greatly enjoying their conversation, he loves getting to really know her again. But the part of him that desires her is desperate for their interaction to end, so sleep can come and go.

“Also, I never plan to marry. Period,” Jon says with confidence.

“I’m sorry, what?!” Dany’s eyes widen in shock. “I mean, never? I haven’t heard this…why?”

“I thought you would have known, living with my parents,” Jon stumbles, the look of astonishment on Dany’s face making him uncomfortable. “I am studying the law, after graduation I’ll build up a practice in London. And then one day I hope to serve as my cousin’s legal counsel for the Winterfell estate.”

Dany studies him carefully, she nods but says nothing. Jon wants to be honest with her about how he feels. About how he has always felt.

“I have to tell you, I have always cared for you Daenerys. Always. We were so close as children, I know we met when I was eight and you were only seven…but I can’t remember a time in my life when you weren’t in it,” Jon pauses, he knows he is laying a lot on her, but he wants her to know how much she means to him. “I will never forget how kind you were to me, when my mother married Rhaegar. His children were polite, but pretty indifferent. And Viserys...well, he was just who he is.”

Dany laughs. “Viserys has always been special, I’m just thankful that Rhaegar was so involved with his upbringing. He needed his guidance to keep himself in check,” Dany says calmly.

“You were my very best friend, I am sorry we grew apart,” Jon says suddenly, not caring if he is speaking out of turn. He wants her to know.

“Yes, we were very close. But alas, it became inappropriate for me to follow you around like a silly lost puppy,” Dany chuckles with mirth. Jon notes she doesn’t sound very happy.

Jon is confused, not understanding her sudden tone. He also has no idea what she means, they were friends, best friends even. He would never describe her as following him around in a pathetic way. His brows furrow while trying to solve the puzzle.

Dany finally rolls her eyes at him. “Oh stop it, Jon snow. Don’t be coy. You must have known how madly in love I was with you. Everyone saw it. I was teased mercilessly over it for years!”

“Dany…” Jon mumbles, speechless. He can’t believe what he is hearing.

Dany continues, her voice soft. “I cried for days when I heard about you and the redhead girl, I had just arrived to Winterfell when I learned of it. To save face, my mother told everyone I was sick with a stomach ailment so that no one would see me as she vanished me to my room. She was pretty irritated with me, and my dramatics.” Dany chuckles at the memory.  

Jon remembers that visit. Dany and her traveling party had arrived to Winterfell, she had been all smiles. And then was sick for a few days, and he couldn’t see her. No one could see her. And then she was well, but wouldn’t even look in his direction aside from polite pleasantries. She was actually very quiet that trip, with everyone.

It dawns on him that was the year that their friendship changed. That was also the year that Jon and Dany began to spend very little time together.

“Dany…” Jon says painfully. He hates the idea of her having felt bad.

“Stop, its fine. I was just a silly girl. Forget it.” Dany says proudly, her voice firm.

Jon’s mind racing. So many emotions swirling inside of him.

“It feels like a lifetime ago, but I need you to know that I have always deeply loved you,” Jon tells her, taking a moment to calm his racing his heart. He never dreamed he would make this confession to anyone, let alone her. “Although I didn’t mean to do it, I am deeply sorry that I hurt you. That is the last thing I would have ever wanted, Dany.”

Dany nods in acceptance and then smiles shyly at Jon before speaking. “Will you kiss me?” She is sitting closely to him on the bed.

“No!” Jon gasps, shocked at her request.

Dany huffs loudly, seemingly frustrated with him.

“I can’t do that, father would kill me!  Stepson or no, he’d kill me.” Jon reminds her. He gulps as her eyes roam over his entire body. She is no longer hiding what she feels for him.

“Rhaegar?” She pauses for effect. “What about what I want? What about what we both know you want?” Dany leans closer to him, her camisole falling low so that the peaks of her breasts are visible to him.

“Dany, for Christ’s sake…” Jon mutters painfully. “You want me to say it? I do want you, I’ve only ever wanted you, Daenerys Targaryen.”

Dany’s hands move to the straps of her camisole, she slowly begins lowering them. Jon puts her hands on her, stopping her.

“Dany, no. I don’t want to dishonor you…” Jon mumbles painfully. He would love nothing more than to take her in his arms, to experience the taste of her skin on his lips. But he knows that she could never really be his. He loves her too much to take away her future.

“Then don’t dishonor me.” Dany pleads, pressing her palm to Jon’s face so that he will see her. “Rhaegar loves you, Jon. I once heard him admit to our mother that he has never been happier than his time with Lyanna.  Rhaegar married your mother for true love. He will accept us…”

Dany suddenly looks embarrassed, for a moment she appears doubtful. “I mean, if you do love me…”

Of course Jon loves her, but there are so many reasons why they can’t be.

“What about you….  Do you know what you would be giving up? All you would lose just to marry me?” Jon pushes her, unsure if he could ever ask that of her. To walk away from everything she is entitled to.

“I don’t care about money or having a large castle to run.  I want to be happy, I want to make you happy,” Dany says firmly, her eyes brimming with tears. “That is what I care about.”

Jon’s heart races, hearing her words. He believes her because he feels the same way for her.

“I believe you, I want to make you happy for the rest of my life,” Jon commits to her. “Dany, I love you. Will you marry me? We can elope and find someone in this shit town to marry us.”

Dany sighs, while nodding her head happily. “Yes, I will marry you! I will, but after…  I want you to make me happy in this bed right now… I don’t really know how, but I know what I feel for you. We can figure it out as we go along.”

Dany lowers her camisole off her shoulders to bare her tits. Jon’s breathe hitches loudly.

“You are so beautiful,” Jon whispers, his eyes roaming up and down her breasts and beautiful face. She is still the loveliest woman he has ever seen.

Leaning up Jon kisses her slowly, their lips pressing together lightly. Dany flushes with warmth, Jon can feel her melting into him. Their kisses start slow, as both nervous. But as the moments pass and the kisses become frantic, their hands begin to explore the other’s body. Dany wraps her arm around his shoulder, pulling him closer. Jon’s hands trail from her waste to caress her plump breasts, gasping at the first feel of them. His hardened cock straining painfully against the constraints of his drawers.

“Jon…” Dany whimpers as she moves to lie on her back, urging him to follow.

Jon moves to lie next to her on the bed, his lips moving from her mouth to her jaw and then neck. Dany sighs as his lips move in slow deliberate kisses. She runs her fingers through his curls, guiding his mouth lower. Jon groans loudly as he peppers her breast with open mouthed kisses. Dany gasps loudly as his mouth licks over her hardened nipple and then sucks on it. Jon then moving to the other.

“Dany, Dany…I love you, every inch of you,” Jon groans in between kisses to her beautiful body.

Dany’s hand slowly traces the outline of his hard cock along the outside of his drawers, he whimpers with longing. “And I love every inch of you too,” she tears him. It is enough to encourage Jon to take more.

Rolling her all the way to lie on her back before moving his body over hers, Jon kisses her mouth passionately. Dany’s legs instinctually parting so that he can fit between them. Both gasp at the connection of sex to sex. Even with two layers of clothing between them, both feel the immediate heat.

The lovers lock eyes as they experiment slowly at first, Jon and Dany both rocking their hips to create a delicious friction between them. Both quickly realizing how damned good it feels. They find a rhythm, rubbing against each other as the combination of their pants and moans echo in the room. Jon leans down to kiss her again, their tongues joining to move lovingly. Dany holds him gently to her, caressing his shoulders and back affectionately as he kisses her passionately.

Jon thinks about advice Robb had given him years ago. Sex is more pleasurable for a woman when she is aroused and ready. Jon wants to make this as pleasant as possible for their first time. Jon kisses her slowly as his hand glides lower on her body, stopping at the top band of her knickers. Dany whimpers with desire as Jon slips his hand down to touch her cautiously. Jon groans feeling how wet she already is for him, her soft curls damp from her arousal. Burying his face in her neck as his fingers trace her slowly before he begins pleasuring her softly. She gasps and moans loudly.

Jon chucking into her ear, “Shhh, we are supposed to be related. They probably shouldn’t hear your cries of ecstasy!”

Dany touches Jon’s chest, groaning with admiration at what she feels and sees. She slips her hand to the top of his drawers and pushes them down freeing his cock, Jon hisses with lust. Wrapping her hands slowly around his shaft she begins to stroke him slowly. Jon grunts in appreciation.

“I am sure the owner of this crappy inn has seen and heard worse!” Dany jokes before nipping at his lower lip.

“I want to taste you on my mouth,” Jon says hoarsely as he begins kissing his way down, pulling off her knickers and camisole completely. Jon buries his face in between her legs, anxious to feel her on his tongue.  Dany pants nervously, although anxious to make love to him, she never imagined Jon’s face in between her legs.

Jon’s tongue slides up her slit, settling to tease and lick her clit. Dany gasps loudly at the sensation. As Jon continues loving her there Dany starts to feel herself tighten, a pleasure she has never felt before building up slowly.  She gasps loudly before crying out very loudly, her body shaking with pleasure.

Jon moves up slowly, he wants to make love to his soon to be wife. Dany smiles shyly at him, she wants this as well.

The couple carefully come together, Jon pressing into his beloved slowly as she whimpers softly while still encouraging him to take her. Jon makes love to her slowly, his pace deliberate and smooth. Dany holds him while he strokes in and out. Their passionate kisses helping to ease her initial discomfort, as the pleasurable feelings begin to increase.

Their love making is sweet and ardent, neither regretting their choice. As Daenerys gets more comfortable she begins pushing against Jon with each slow thrust, finally begging him to take her harder.

Jon pushes himself up in order to watch her face as he moves more aggressively while making love to her. Feeling his own orgasm nearing, Jon reaches between them to slowly caress her bundle of nerves. Her loud wail echoing through the room as she cries out again, shaking in his arms.

As Jon nears his release he slips out of her warm body and grabs his shaft, spilling his seed all over her flat stomach as he grunts loudly. He loves her, and they will marry tomorrow but if possible he doesn’t want to add a child to the mix right away.

Helping Dany to clean his seed off of her creamy skin, the couple share a loving look.

Pulling her into his arms on the small bed they talk about their plans to marry the next morning and how Dany will join Jon in London as his wife. As long as they will be together, that is all that matters.

When breaking the news to their family, they decide they will lead with the details of the hijack and carriage ride. And then follow up by announcing their elopement.

Jon hopes that method will help lessen the blow. Although he surely doubts it.  Daenerys doesn’t seem concerned at all.

++o+ Story End +o++

Link to Part II (X) - called Not Good Enough

[beeblackburn]

Don't you think you have to be obsessed (in a good way) with ASOIAF to fully appreciate FeastDance? At least that's what I concluded. I wasn't a fan of it at first for having so many new characters and so many new plotlines. I'd forget what was happening with Quentyn, for instance. I missed the Starklings and the simpler AGOT. But then, after re-reading the whole thing, reading metas about it, re-searching about the history of Westeros... Then those two became favs too!

Thanks for the question!

Hmmm, fully appreciate? Yes, I do in a sense. Reading up on The World of Ice and Fire certainly enriches the reading experience of Dorne and the Iron Islands’ arcs with historical heft behind them, how they dealt with their struggles for cultural conception and independence. Cersei’s relationship with the Faith, and the Faith as an institution, is better understood by reading up on the context of Maegor with them back during his blasphemous dragon days. 

Reading about the Dance of Dragons and the Blackfyre Rebellions will certainly make Aegon and Dany’s upcoming dance all the more tragic and echoing in a historical context as our two dragons, black or red, will devour one or the other. It’ll make Arianne and Connington’s struggles all the more crushing as one tries to assert her rightful place as heir from her brother and the other tries to seat the right dragon on the throne… only for tragedy to claim them both.

Plus, C’thulhu. Also, Euron Bloodeye is totally the Bloodstone Emperor-Come-Again. Mock him at your own peril.

There are historical, thematic, magical and genre threads woven through the seams of FeastDance and Martin’s already ignited relatively small, yet intense in an intimate scale, fires out of them. They’ve always been there and, through dialogue, meta and re-reading, do we see the strings that led to history repeating and casting aflame at this age of Westeros. Though, once Martin starts burning more fires out of these threads in The Winds of Winter, (he’s already doing it in Arianne’s preview chapters) I’m sure people will appreciate the FeastDance more without being obsessed (in the best way) with ASoIaF.

Though… I will relate my personal reading experience in response to not being a fan of having so many new characters and new plotlines on the heels of A Storm of Swords (though I’m sympathetic to that standpoint to a certain degree.) 

A Storm of Swords had Martin blowing up his chessboard in spectacular fashion, sweeping the board in the titular storm and toppling his pieces. Through bloodshed, treason, conquest and intrigue, chaos and breakdown of the old systems was seeping deeper into Westeros, doom spreading across all the kingdoms and teams we invested ourselves in, be it in love or hate. 

The end of that book found us knee-deep in the midst of bloodied regions we had spent three books in, littered with dead kings and important lords and ladies. Whether it was Jeor getting stabbed in the back at Craster’s Keep, Tywin’s crossbow wound rotting in the privy, Joffrey choking on from his poisoned chalice, Oberyn’s head getting smashed against the Red Keep’s outer ward, Balon’s body feeding the crabs in the Ironman’s Bay, Kraznys turning to charred meat in the hell of Astapor or Robb’s blood soaking into the Twins’ bricks, everything about A Storm of Swords’ conclusion suggested no return to status quo.

So, from that standpoint, I was expecting a relative clean slate and piece-setting coming into A Feast for Crows. He left several realms in smoke and ash through a breathless second-half of the prior book, so he would need to set the next book at a breather pace. There was also the aftermaths of those events to address as well. Getting to know new characters would both help us readers catch our breaths from the prior storm and give himself time to set pieces on his board for new storms and explosions and climaxes to pay-off for later.

Plus, A Storm of Swords set us up for most of those new plotlines, so I was prepared for them. At least, it gave Martin an open door if he ever wanted to explore them or go further in-depth with them:

No sooner had he left the king’s pavilion than the Greatjon began to laugh, but Robb silenced him with a look. “Euron Greyjoy is no man’s notion of a king, if half of what Theon said of him was true. Theon is the rightful heir, unless he’s dead … but Victarion commands the Iron Fleet. I can’t believe he would remain at Moat Cailin while Euron Crow’s Eye holds the Seastone Chair. He has to go back.”

“He may indeed crown Tommen, here in King’s Landing. Which is not to say that my brother may not crown Myrcella, down in Sunspear. Will your father make war on your niece on behalf of your nephew? Will your sister?”

“Just listen,” he snapped, angered by her assumption. “I want you to find Sansa first, and get her somewhere safe. How else are the two of us going to make good our stupid vows to your precious dead Lady Catelyn?”

Sandor said, “The Blackfish is still in Riverrun?”

“Not for long,” said Polliver. “He’s under siege. Old Frey’s going to hang Edmure Tully unless he yields the castle. The only real fighting’s around Raventree. Blackwoods and Brackens. The Brackens are ours now.”

Now, I’m sympathetic to the confusion and logistics of new characters and plotlines bursting out the woodshed for some readers, but I love the world and characters of ASoIaF. So when the double-punch of Aeron and Areo’s respective chapters opened my eyes to entirely new regions (or new facets of old regions in Aeron’s case) and characters that we were promised in A Storm of Swords we’d see in the next book, I was pretty appeased! And I was curious where they’d be going (and I wasn’t disappointed on that score.)

Plus, I’m a reader who generally presumes every subplot/plot in a book is leading somewhere that connects to the greater whole/isn’t going to be a waste. So with all the new plots in FeastDance, I was keeping an open mind. Yes, it was expanding, but I figured if anyone could rein in this series so that every part of it matters, it was Martin. So, I consumed every new POV with the notion that it affected or was going to affect the story from a thematic or plot standpoint. Yes, even Quentyn and his trip to hell…

I didn’t really miss the Starklings in a sense because, after A Storm of Swords and the heartbreak done to the Starks there, I wanted a break from Stark and Northern affairs (except Sansa, I’ll read Sansa chapters any day.) I wanted new characters and the stories that arose from them because the Starklings were one flavor of story in an increasingly expanding narrative... and you just can’t get flavors of stories like Aeron’s or Arianne’s or Brienne’s by staying only with the Starklings.

So, for me, A Feast for Crows was a delicious cake to take in. Yes, the re-reading, meta consuming and searching up history parallels was absolutely the ice cream icing on the cake, but, even on my first read, I was satisfied because it took its time, breathed in the crow-strewn air and opened me to a greater scope that I realized I wasn’t inhabiting until that moment. That and the belief that it would all lead to even bigger climaxes than A Storm of Swords.

And it will. The Winds of Winter’s preview chapters already promise big developments for the Iron Islands and Dorne plots. Which wouldn’t have landed as hard if Martin didn’t take his time to elaborate and set those pieces in the FeastDance.

And lastly... I mean, this is a series where the minimal page count per book is, at least, 800 pages. If I’m reading books that thick and long, I want to inhabit these books and the characters’ lives. I read Martin for the same reason I read Robin Hobb: to walk and breathe a realm so human and relatable, yet vividly different in key facets, from mine. This story was made for rereads, analyses, in-depth thinking, brimming with real and complicated themes. 

So, I imagine, if we’re all willing to read books over 800 pages, we must already be a little obsessed (in a good way.) Maybe. :3

Hope this satisfies!

[merlinficreview]

The Student Prince Chapters 31-35 Review!

The Student Prince by FayJay

Word Count: 145222

Chapter 31

“Glad to hear u r OK. Sorry cannot come back this term. Merry Xmas.” That’s the opening of this chapter. It’s a text from Arthur to Merlin and Merlin starts freaking out that Arthur wants nothing to do with him after that whole murder situation. “Of course, Merlin was pretty damned sure that if he'd just seen somebody he was sleeping with turn around and kill somebody they both knew – kill them really quite horribly, and whilst they were trying to run away, at that – well, he'd probably have been a bit horrified himself.” At least Merlin is somewhat self-aware.

Merlin has a chat with Morgause who tells him that he’ll end up killing more people if he takes the job to protect Arthur. Merlin acts like this is brand new information.

Later, Lance and Merlin are getting ice cream and Merlin asks Lance if he would stop loving Gwen if she robbed a bank. Hopefully not. How else is he supposed to get his share of the loot? Anyways, Lance of course says he wouldn’t and brings up Arthur because Merlin is not subtle. Lance tells Merlin to not assume things on Arthur’s behalf. That’s pretty good advice.

Merlin has an aneurism over sending an “I miss you” text to Arthur. Arthur responds with, “Me 2. Hope to see u in the New Year.” Yikes. That’s not really something you text your boyfriend. It would be more like, “See you in the New Year!”

Chapter 32

Merlin and Gwen are taking the train home and Gwen is worried about seeing her mother’s side of the family.

Merlin worries about Arthur, “He was wondering where Arthur was right now, and what he was doing. It was five days since he'd seen his face.” Wait, I’m sorry. It’s only been FIVE DAYS? Calm the fuck down, Merlin, damn. I thought it had been like two weeks or something.

Gwen invites Merlin to go see fireworks with her, Lance and a few other people. Merlin asks if he can bring Will.

Merlin gets home to his mother, “And then he was ringing the doorbell, and he could make out his mother's sihouette through the frosted glass, and a moment later he was holding her tight, startled again that she was so much smaller than she should be and losing himself in the familiar smell of her hair and the warm press of her arms.” Why the hell is he ringing to doorbell to his own home? That’s really weird.

“There was so much he wanted to tell her – about his magic, and about Arthur, and about Morgana and Gaius and Gwen and everything that had happened to him since she waved him off at the train all those months ago. But he couldn't find the words, and he had a lowering suspicion that if he did try to explain himself he'd end up in tears.” Has… Merlin not spoken to his mother since September? What?

A couple of days before Christmas, Morgana breaks her radio silence and asks Merlin, “’Oh my God, Merlin, did you know?’ ‘...sorry?’ ‘Did you know what he was going to do?’ she hissed.” “’You didn't know? Bloody hell fire, I never thought – Uther's going absolutely ballistic. I don't think they're going to show the whole thing on the Beeb after all – at least he's trying to stop them from airing it, but they're quoting the Royal Charter back at him, and it's all on tape, and they've got an army of lawyers, and he can't actually have Mark Thompson or Martin Bashir beheaded, however much he might want...’ her voice was stifled suddenly, and Merlin strained to pick up what was happening. ‘Shit – sorry, got to go. Look, if they air it – you'll want to watch it.’” How fucking useless. I fucking hate it when people start a conversation to make a massive big deal about something and then don’t answer questions or explain what the fuck is going on. It’s a huge pet peeve for me.

Merlin texts Arthur asking what the fuck is going on and his response to Merlin is just as useless as Morgana’s phone call, “Everything alrightish. Do not think pater likes his Xmas present much. Please watch Bashir interview tomorrow if it airs? Am v. sorry about all of this. <3”

Then the chapter ends on that cliffhanger. It would be annoying if it wasn’t painfully obvious that Arthur outed himself in the interview.

Chapter 33

Merlin and his mother are watching the interview Arthur gave and she gets all up in Merlin’s business trying to get him to tell her what the big reveal is. Calm down.

“’How are you finding life as a student?’ Bashir asked, his voice warm and attentive. Arthur smiled. ‘Obviously I have quite a heavy workload, with essays and presentations and things – International Relations is fascinating, but it's not exactly a walk in the park.’ He laughed. ‘And my other subjects are just as bad! I'm afraid I've spent a lot of late nights in the library – that's a bit sad, isn't it?’” What? That’s news to me. When has Arthur ever gone to the library? Does he even know where it is? Arthur is a liar.

Arthur tells the interviewer all about Raisin Sunday and Half of Monday. “’That sounds like fun!’ said Merlin's mother, beaming over at him. ‘Did you do that, cariad?’” I am convinced that Merlin literally never called his mother once in four months. How would she not know any of this? Merlin is a horrible son.

“’Well – more or less like a normal student. There are always bodyguards, and so forth, but I do my own laundry and burn my own toast, like anyone else.’….” Again, when? Arthur gets his toast from the cafeteria. Stop making up weird lies, Arthur.

The interviewer awkwardly asks Arthur about a girlfriend. They have a really long winded conversation where they really beat a dead horse instead of actually getting to the point and Arthur says at least four times, “I don’t think I’ll ever get married,” and the interviewer kind of drops the ball. It’s an annoying conversation because all Arthur had to do was say, “I’ll probably never get married because I’m gay,” instead of beating around the bush for 84 years.

“’I'm really not expecting to meet the girl of my dreams over a jar of coffee, because I'm gay, Martin,’ Arthur said, each word clear and deliberate.” Fucking finally. He could have just said that the second the dude brought up the parents meeting over coffee story instead of going on and on and on and on.

Arthur gives a big long speech about how he can’t hide his sexuality with all the bullies and hate crimes and such and I’m just kind of “too little too late” because he never once did anything about Kay, who he even praised in the interview. So it’s fallen on deaf ears for me.

The interviewer asks Arthur if he has a boyfriend and Arthur says that he hopes so. I would actually be furious with Arthur if I was Merlin, to be honest. Arthur did this entire thing and outed their relationship to the entire world without so much as a heads up to Merlin. He’s an ass. Merlin of course doesn’t see it that way and flips his shit. "Merlin?" said Hunith, her voice going suddenly shrill. “Merlin? tell me you didn't seduce the Prince of Wales? You're not having an affair with Prince Arthur, are you? You're not, are you? Merlin?” Merlin does not love his mother. He doesn’t tell her shit. She probably doesn’t even know what his major is.

Chapter 34

Gwen immediately calls Merlin and confronts him about being with Arthur. Merlin says it’s true then gets off the phone with her to call Arthur… who doesn’t answer.

Merlin then calls Morgana who answers the phone with a whisper. “’Oh, thank God – is this a good time?’ he asked, wondering where she was and who was listening.” I mean, I feel like her answering the phone with a whisper is a fairly good indication that it’s not a good time but what do I know? Morgana tells Merlin that Uther is pissed and that he has to rewrite the whole King’s Speech now to address Arthur’s coming out. Morgana says shit has really hit the fan and she’s worried that Arthur is going to be forced to step out of the line of succession which would make her the heir to the throne. Merlin tells Morgana to tell Arthur he loves him and then they hang up.

Gaius calls Merlin and asks him about that love spell from forever ago. Merlin tells Gaius that he was the one who kissed Arthur and broke the spell. Gaius is worried about Uther’s feelings about Merlin once he finds out that Merlin is the one whom Arthur came out for. Then Gaius is, as usual, a useless critical asshole, yelling at Merlin for shit that isn’t his fault. “’Really – do you stay up late at night trying to work out the most stressful thing you can throw at me?’ ‘No!’ Merlin said. And then he felt a wash of guilt, because Gaius was an old man. ‘No, sir. Sorry, sir.’ ‘When I asked you to try to keep out of trouble over Christmas, this really wasn't what I meant, you know.’ ‘But this isn't my fault!’ ‘And yet here you are in the middle of it again, Merlin.’” Then he makes it even worse by asking Merlin if he has any siblings. Gaius is the worst.

Christmas Morning, Merlin and Hunith are watching the news and Kay gets the most infuriating redemption arc ever. He assaults a journalist who is trying to offer him money for information on Arthur. “I'll stick your bloody camera where the sun don't shine, you scum! Offering me bloody money for dirt on Arthur! You're not worth the mud under his shoes, you leeches, even if he is a bloody poof! He's our bloody poof!”

Like… am I supposed to forget all the shit he’s pulled? Because I don’t. Merlin thinks about how he is rooting for Kay and he and his mother decided it’s great how loyal he is to Arthur. What. The. Fuck. Nope. Fuck right off with that.

Chapter 35

Uther gives his King’s Speech and it’s all very boring and blah blah blah. Here’s the only part we care about, “Let me make this absolutely clear: Arthur is, and will remain, the heir to the throne. Whether the Church of England finds the prospect of him eventually becoming Head of the Church of England to be tenable or not is of course a matter for the Archbishop of Canterbury and his colleagues to discuss, and it is possible that when he succeeds me as king he will not succeed me as Head of the Church.’ Uther's voice dropped lower, and his expression grew sterner. ‘But succeed me he most certainly will.’” Good job, Uther.

The King’s Speech ends and Merlin’s mother is super annoying, “’Ooh, no,’ said Hunith, shaking her head in disapproval. ‘I don't know about importing random Germans to be king! No, no, you'll have to sort something out with a surrogate mother, or adopt a Romanian orphan or something.’” 

This isn’t the first time she’s said anything like this either. Merlin and Arthur have been together for like two months and they are 18. Stop it. Merlin agrees with me.

Morgana and Merlin text each other and it’s weird because they get super specific when in the previous chapter she says she shouldn’t talk to him on the phone because paparazzi have spies on the phones. Whatever. Morgana says Arthur left Merlin a message, “I quote: ‘Second star to the right, and straight on till morning. Another stupid adventure. Come and be king of the world?’ Does that make any sense to you?”

Merlin creates a magic door on his bedroom and has a chat with the dragon. They banter. Merlin just tells him he wants the dragon to take him somewhere in a few days. Well that was stupid. Now Merlin is stuck with the dragon. Why didn’t he just create the door the day he wanted to go somewhere?

Merlin and Arthur meet at that building they snuck into and spent the night at that one time. They have a big conversation and make out and it’s nice but it’s right in front of Arthur’s bodyguard so it’s super awkward. Then Arthur invites Merlin to go with him to meet Uther. The end.

So that’s all folks. The famed Student Prince fic! Now I know sometimes in reviews I come off sounding a little hateful but I do actually like this fic for the most part. The parts I hate just kind of overshadow the parts I like. I dislike Gwen and Lance in this fic because their will they won’t they set up is so infuriating but not in a well written angsty way. It’s ridiculous and no real person acts the way they do in this fic. I also HATE Kay. There was absolutely no reason to have him written the way he was and then continuously beat us over the head with it in EVERY. SINGLE. SCENE. Then that redemption arc? Get the fuck out of here with that. I found Arthur to be genuinely unlikable. He’s an asshole to Merlin during the whole Raisin Weekend thing and he’s an asshole when it comes to his weird undying loyalty to Kay. Fucking. Stop. That’s about all want to say about the fic. I feel like anything would just repeating myself. I did like the general Arthur/Merlin angst, minus when Arthur is being an asshole towards Merlin. I also like Raisin Sunday and Half of Monday.

Until next time!

[screensandmelodies-blog]

My 10 Favourite Game of Thrones Characters (Spoilers)

By Mackenzie Burns

Hi guys,

My name is Mackenzie Burns and I am an avid TV Show, Movie and Book lover. One of favourite books and TV Shows happens to be the title of this blog post. I love and am obsessed with Game of Thrones or as the books are known as A Song of Ice and Fire. The show is based off the book series that started in 1996, and is still being written today. It is an adult epic fantasy series, by George R.R. Martin. The book series was successful and in 2010 was picked up to be a TV series by HBO. HBO being a premium cable channel, with old shows like Sex in the City and new shows like West World a part of their roster.

Enough back story, today I talk about my favourite characters throughout all the seasons. Some of them may be dead or alive, either in the books or show. This was hard, there are a ton of great characters in this series. I will go in depth on my top 2; how, why and when they became my favourites. Spoilers involved with the top 2 characters if you have not caught up.

10. Rhaegar Targaryen

9. Khal Drogo

8. Twyin Lannister

7. Samwell Tarly

6. Tormund Giantsbane

5. Ygritte the Wilding

4. Tyrion Lannister

3.Sansa Stark

2. Daenerys Targayren

Daenerys Targayren is my favourite female character for many reasons, I will go through a few. When we are introduced to her, it is only her and her brother who are the surviving members. They grew up on the other side of the world, because their father and brother contributed to a war. This war was known as Robert’s Rebellion which started when it was believed that their brother Rhaegar had kidnapped the North lord’s daughter Lyanna Stark. They were sent away so that they would survive and live. This was before Daenerys was born, after she is born her only family member was her brother Viserys. She depended on him for everything, he protected her and made sure she stayed safe. When she was old enough (about 15 -16 years old) she was married to a horse lord named Khal Drogo. Their marriage didn’t start off great but she grew to loving him. He was strong and protective; she was going to be a queen with him as her king. She became pregnant and was going to have a son, who was going to be the heir when she was going to take back her home. But that never happened. Her husband died from an injury, her brother died because of his stupidity; and her baby died by the blood magic of a witch. She had lost all hope until she remembered that she had three dragon eggs unable to hatch. But they did, she walked through fire and they were born. She became the mother of dragons, to be feared once they got older. She goes on a heroine’s journey, going to different cities and gathering support. She collects advisers and an army along the way. Becoming a ruler and leader in her own right. She inspires the people she helps through speech and action. She starts off as a shy small girl, who becomes a strong, confident Queen. Someone who I aspire to be, I don’t want to care what others think. I want to do what I want to do. She is a badass and no one messes with her, because they’ll get burned by her dragons. I love her for that.

1. Jon Snow:

Jon Snow is my favourite male character for many reasons.  He is born out of wedlock to the crowned Prince Rhaegar Targaryen and Lady Lyanna Stark. Both end up dying because of war. This leaves Jon to be raised by his uncle Lord Eddard Stark, to protect him but also his sister’s secret of having a child. He is raised as a bastard in the north where he grows up. He is given the last name Snow, as children who are bastards are given names based on where they’re born and living. He is raised with Lord Eddard Stark’s family. His stepmother Lady Catelyn Stark despises him. As she is told that Ned loved the woman who he “had” Jon Snow with. She believes he is the product of an affair and that he is a threat to her children, even though he is not entitled to anything from his “father”. Jon Snow is raised with five other children who are his believed half-siblings. Rob, who is a few months older; sisters Sansa and Arya; and two younger brothers Bran and Rickon. All varying in ages from 12- 5. Throughout his childhood, he is desperate to find out who is mother is. If she was a noblewoman, a fisherman’s wife/daughter, a whore. He doesn’t care, he wants to know who she was and what her name is. But by certain events, he is told to leave his childhood home. With no other place to go, he joins the Night’s Watch. A group of men who take vows and swear them to their gods or other members of the night’s watch. They are to protect the people from the realm from what lies beyond. To die for the Night’s Watch, never leaving even if duty calls them. It could be family related and they still must stay. They give up any attachment to family, meaning that they can not help a family member who may need them. They also agree to never marry, father any children (legitimate or not) and not hold any titles or lands. They agree to give up everything for the Night’s Watch. For a fair amount of time, he is unsatisfied with his rank, but throughout the seasons, he gets the title of Lord Commander. He doesn’t want it either but takes it because he is dutiful. During his command, he brings together two groups who have been at war for thousands of years: The Night’s Watch and the Wildlings, who live beyond the wall. During season 6, he goes from being killed by some of his nights watch members to being proclaimed King. Which is a great accomplishment for anyone. He is humble, courageous and strong. He is the best, he is my favourite.

That’s my list! If you have watched Game of Thrones, tell me yours. This was great fun putting this list together because I got to figure out which characters I like more and reminiscing why I love them so much. It is a great TV show and book series that anyone could enjoy. I am already counting down the days until summer when it is to be back and waiting on news for the 6th book. Alright, I’ve been writing too long.