#sansa stark x petyr baelish
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An unequal marriage in Westeros.
#asoif/got#fanart#fan art#a song of ice and fire#asoiaf#game of thrones#game of thrones fanart#got#sansa stark#joffrey baratheon#sandor the hound clegane#sandor clegane#the hound#cersei#cersei lannister#queen cersei#petyr baelish#little finger#varys#asoiaf fanart#sandor x sansa#sansa stark x sandor clegane#sansan#you’ll be glad of the hateful things i do someday when you are queen and i’m all that stands between you and your beloved king
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you're your mother, sweetling; you sunk your teeth, ragged and sharp into my mother, she let you suck her dry. now you sink your teeth into me, and I'll let you suck me dry.
inspired by this post by @15step
Mine / A Storm of Swords – George R. R. Martin / House of the Dragon / A Game of Thrones – George R. R. Martin / A Feast for Crows – George R. R. Martin / A World of Ice and Fire – George R. R. Martin / Fire and Blood – George R. R. Martin
#aegon ii targaryen#alicent hightower#sansa stark#larys strong#petyr baelish#asoiaf#house of the dragon#hotd#OHHH BROTHER….. THESE PARALLELS… SICKENING!#web weaving#parallels#on mothers#on sons#aegonposting#ales.txt#THE ABUSE… IT GOES ROUND AND ROUND……..#YOU LOOK JUST LIKE YOUR MOTHER SWEETLING…. IM GONNA THROW UPPPP YALL.#alayne stone#aligon#alicent x larys#aegon x larys#petyr x sansa#larycent#larygon#larysgon
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"Marry me."
How I think marriage proposals would go for those characters.
Sandor Clegane:
"…Wanna get married ?" You asked as both you and Sandor were sleeping side by side in the forest. Sandor blinked—half asleep. He had back pain and a headache. He had hoped that the wine would help him to fall asleep quicker, as to not have to hear you say any other crazy thing or request for the day. But, of course. He was mistaken.
"Huh ?" When the information seemed to eventually settle in his brain, his whole face seemed a perfect depiction of confusion. He finally turned around and you could see in his eyes that he wasn’t exactly sober either. You decided this was the perfect moment to ask—since he would probably not even remember you asked the next morning. It gave you courage to ask again.
"Wanna get married ?" You repeated with a little more determination and this time, he answered.
"No."
"Ah."
"…"
"…"
"…You. Wanna get married ?" He asked this time—more because he was curious than awaiting an actual answer. But, you took your chance and answered truthfully.
"Sure."
He was momentarily surprised by your confidence before he huffed a laugh and wrapped an arm around you.
"…Fine. We’ll get married in the morning. Now, hush."
There was then a moment of silence before you both bursted out laughing. Just two drunks having the most normal conversation ever. You knew that by tomorrow, he would have surely forgotten all about tonight. But for now, you were satisfied with the knowledge that his subconscience hadn’t said no.
Oberyn Martell:
"Would you like to marry me ?" You asked Oberyn while he wad writing and whose lips curved slightly into a small smirk at the request. He was used to your rather straightforward nature. He liked it even. It made him laugh and enjoy your presence at parties. You were curious and completely unashamed or afraid of any consequences your requests or demands would bring. This is why he always caved. But, he could also be playful and this is why he answered with a small grin:
"No."
He was curious to see your reaction, but his smile slightly faltered when he saw the hurt in your eyes at his rejection. It was the first time he had seen you so upset and he immediately regretted his words.
"Oh. Okay then." You were embarrassed and turned around quickly to get back to your own private quarters. But he was by your side in an instant and wrapped his arms around you from behind.
"I was only kidding. I would LOVE to marry you, sweet peach."
He then kissed the back of your neck lovingly. You let out a sigh of relief as you leaned back against him.
"…Really ?"
He chuckled.
"Yes. Really."
He then kissed your temple and you stayed in his arms for a while before he started nuzzling the back of your neck.
"But what brought the subject, sweet peach ?"
You sighed before closing your eyes.
"…You’re the only one who truly enjoys my presence. You laugh and smile at me, even when my words are nonsense. So I thought…why not ask ?"
Oberyn seemed taken aback for a moment before his smile widened and he pressed your back further against him to kiss your shoulder and whisper in your ear.
"Let me tell you a little secret. I would marry you for your nonsense, my dear. Because your nonsense makes more sense to me than this whole world does…"
Tyrion Lannister:
"Do you want to marry me ?" You asked Tyrion one night and the man was so stunned that he spilled his cup of wine.
"What ?"
Tyrion was the most decent between all the Lannisters. He had helped you more than once and there was no doubt in your proposal. You would never find better husband.
"You heard me."
He stayed silent again and made you nervous. Would he refuse ? Would he tell you that he has already found someone ? Would he tell you that he has no interest in you ? But, he didn’t. He simply sighed.
"…Why ?"
Why ? You could tell him a thousand reasons why. Because he was one of the few good men you knew. Because you had no intention of marrying any other. Because you knew he could be gentle. Because he was funny. Because he could be brave. Because he had the heart of a true lion…but no. You wouldn’t tell him like that. Because even if you did, he wouldn’t believe you.
"Because I want to." You settled for instead and his eyes widened slightly in surprise before he smiled a little and shook his head.
"Why would you want to marry an imp ?"
"It is not an imp that I am marrying, but a prince." You retorted. You both stared at each other and his gaze softened as he started actually considering it for a moment.
"You would be miserable." You frowned in incomprehension at his words.
"Why ?" He glanced away for a second.
"Because I am not a good man."
You huffed a bitter laugh at his words.
"Haven’t you heard ? There are no good man left, my prince."
Tyrion seemed taken aback, but he couldn’t deny the truth behind your words and drank a little of his wine.
"Tell me, Tyrion. If I was to become your wife/husband. Would you hit me ? Would you abuse me ? Would you lie to me ?"
He shook his head with a small smile. No. He wouldn’t. You smiled back and Tyrion finally nodded understandingly. It wasn’t about love. It wasn’t about finding a good man. It was always about finding the one who wouldn’t hurt you…And hence, he understood and maybe…maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have a wife/husband ?
Jaime Lannister:
"Jaime…" You sat down next to him at the feast prepared for the Lannisters and even though you could feel Cersei glaring daggers at you—you grabbed his hand. He didn’t react, but you could feel his fingers slightly curving to hold yours.
"Hello, buttercup." He finally greeted you in a whisper and you couldn’t help but smile weakly. You knew of his heart and his loyalty to his sister. It wasn’t really your business to interfere, but you didn’t like how Cersei was treating him. And, you also knew that his heart could maybe be won over.
So, you did the most nonsense ever and challenged him. You stood up and faced him—catching the attention of everyone in the room as you declared loudly.
"Jaime Lannister. I challenge you to an arm wrestling competition !"
That ought to have gained his attention as his eyes finally met yours and what he found in there made his eyes widen in surprise. You were determined and even though he was a knight—you didn’t seem scared of losing. He tried to laugh and wave it off as a mere joke—but you didn’t back down and even provoked him.
"Are you perhaps not a lion ? But a scared chicken ?"
That oughta do it. He was up before you could even pronounce another word and the fury in his eyes made you smile. He had taken the bait.
"If I win, you must agree to one single demand of my choice without knowing what it is !"
"And if I win ?" He quickly shot back and you bit back a laugh.
"Then I will give you whatever you want."
In a matter of minutes, everything was settled and you were both in position. Everyone assumed you were mad or had consumed too much wine to challenge Jaime Lannister—but it couldn’t be further from the truth. You had planned it carefully. You had trained and trained your body and your mind. You had worn big sleeves to hide the muscles hidden underneath. This could be the most important challenge of your life and you wanted to win. More than anything.
The moment Jaime gripped your hand, his eyes stared straight at you as he realised what you had done. This was not the strength of the Y/N he was accustomed to…but it was too late to stop and in a matter of seconds—Jaime Lannister was on the floor.
Everyone was stunned.
But, you only gracefully stood up from your seat and looked down at him before smirking.
"…I will be waiting for that marriage proposal." And with that, you were out of the room—leaving a very confused Jaime and a very angry Cersei behind. But, you knew that a lion never backed down from his word. And Jaime would be yours.
Petyr Baelish (Littlefinger) :
"Marry me." Littlefinger didn’t even seem surprised by you sudden demand. Everyone knew that your father wished to marry you off to Ramsay Bolton. And even though Littlefinger wasn’t sure why you would come to him with such a request, he didn’t show it.
He didn’t even look up as he simply asked.
"Why ?"
You huffed a bitter laugh. The man would sell mother and father for a throne. And he dared to ask why ?
"Does it matter ?"
He licked his thumb to turn the page of the book he was reading nonchalantly, even though you knew that he was secretly weighing the pros and cons of such an alliance.
"Depends. What will it bring me ?"
You looked away.
"Don’t pretend not to realise how advantageous it would be for you to be a part of the Lannister family. You’d have an easy access to the iron throne."
He hummed and pretended to think about it. It was true marrying you would be a fast way to get access to all the nice advantages of being a part of the so-called prestigious Lannister family. But, it had its own set of disadvantages to consider. He would become more than just a little man in the shadows that no one would deem worthy of being a threat, he would become a lion. A black lion.
"…Tell me why you would lower yourself to such an alliance with me. Surely, there would be one handsome young man who would say yes to such a proposal without even blinking. Why go to me, princess/prince ?"
You hesitated before sighing in defeat.
"…Because if I am to marry a snake, better be one I know than one chosen by Tywin Lannister."
At that, Petyr finally dignified you with a glance. You held his gaze and after a few seconds, he smiled.
"Very well, my beauty. Lead the snake to the lion’s den then."
Sansa Stark:
You and Sansa had been longtime allies and friends. You were maybe the only friend she had ever had after the almost complete destruction of House Stark. You had developed feeling for her over time and knew that asking her for her hand wouldn’t be easy—but you were willing to try.
"Please, Sansa of House Stark." You knelt on one knee before her with a rose in your hand and the other hand on your heart. "Would you marry me ?"
Sansa was surprised by the proposal. She had married twice and both marriages weren’t a success. She had lived through nightmares and pain out of such a dream as marriage. She used to want to get married with someone she loved so badly, but not anymore.
"My heart is not so easily won by a rose and pretty words anymore." She replied instead—thinking that she would succeed in breaking your resolve. But, she was mistaken.
"I know. I know that I may never be worthy of even your eyes on me. But…I am a fool, and my heart beats for you. And if you want it ? Then it’s yours. And even if you don’t want it. Let me fight for you. And prove my loyalty to the most beautiful and strong lady the North has ever seen." You pleaded and Sansa was rendered speechless.
She looked into your eyes and saw only love and adoration. She then glanced down at the rose you offered her and after a moment of hesitation, she finally took it.
"…You may try to win my heart, Y/N. But, I cannot promise you success."
You smiled and shook your head.
"Just having you acknowledge my feelings is enough for hope to enter my heart."
Sansa smiled back.
Maybe…romance wasn’t utterly dead.
Jon Snow: (Before the tragedy 😭)
"Marry me." It was said with such confidence that Jon himself was stunned as he looked up at you with widened eyes.
"What ?"
"You heard me."
There was a moment of silence before Jon smiled and he suddenly pulled you into his arms. There was no yes or no. Just a moment of pure euphoria as he couldn’t stop laughing as he buried his face in your chest. He was so happy, he forgot to form words.
When he was finally calm once more, he kissed you passionately.
"Yes. Yes. Yes, I will."
You both started laughing together and Jon even fell back on the snow as you held him tightly.
Daenerys:
"Marry me." You demanded and Daenerys looked back at you. She didn’t seem surprised or even mildly confused by the demand. She knew of your feelings for her—and she was more than happy to reciprocate.
But, marriage ?
Marriage meant boundaries. Marriage meant attachment. Marriage meant she would have to think about you and a possible future where she wasn’t all powerful.
She sighed before stroking your cheek and offering you an apologetic smile.
"My dear Y/N…If only I could, do not believe for a second that I would say no. But, as the future queen of the Seven Kingdoms…I cannot."
You closed your eyes and a few tears rolled down your cheeks. You had expected such an answer of course, but still…your heart ached.
"I…understand." You forced yourself to say and Daenerys nodded. She was a queen. A khaleesi. And you were just…human.
Ser Jorah:
"Please. Marry me." Ser Jorah was stunned at the unexpected request and turned towards you with widened eyes. He was about to answer when you quickly added.
"Love me. Hate me. I want you and you want her. But, I am not asking for your love. But for your protection, kind ser Jorah." He closes his mouth and seemed to think about it for a moment. He knew that you were a young lady/man who had left her/his family to join Daenerys. He had no idea you held such feelings for him…
"You can have my protection, but why go to such lengths to have it ?" He finally asked and you sighed before taking his hand in yours.
"Because it is not only physical protection I seek." You then laid his hand flat upon your heart and Ser Jorah seemed taken aback once more. He looked at you and you didn’t shy away from his gaze.
You knew Ser Jorah was honourable and even if he would never return your feelings, he would make a far greater husband than anyone you ever knew. He would respect you and your heart. And that was more than you could ever wish for…
Ser Jorah accepted.
After all, it was only his name that you were going to bear and his sword that would protect you. You would call him husband, but only in name.
#sandor clegane x reader#ser jorah x reader#daenerys x reader#jon snow x reader#tyrion lannister x reader#littlefinger#petyr baelish x reader#sansa stark x reader#oberyn martell x reader#jaime lannister x reader#got characters x reader#fandoms#imagine#got
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PETYR BAELISH & SANSA STARK
GAME OF THRONES
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Shipping in Asoiaf and hotd be like:
#I swear to God like 80% of ships in this world are veeery illegal#Sansa especially o my god I only know like one or two popular ships that don't involve her with a grown man#Guys she's thirteen#house of the dragon#hotd#asoiaf#alicent hightower#viserys i targaryen#daemon targeryan#rhaenyra targaryen#daemyra#Alicent hightower x viserys I targaryen#Sansa stark#sansan#sandor clegane#little finger#petyr baelish#petyr x sansa#tyrion lannister#sansa x tyrion#rhaegar targaryen#lyanna stark#rhaegar x lyanna#Robert baratheon#He's on this list because of that 14 year old girl he knocked up#aemma arryn#Aemma x Viserys#Honestly I could go on these are just the first ones I came up with#Ned isn't on this list and that's why he's the best period#daenerys x drogo
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on sansa and petyr
daddy issues, the neighborhood // asos - sansa v // agustin gomez arcos, the carnivorous lamb // ask me anything (2014) // asos - sansa vii // alisson wood, being lolita: a memoir // the disappearance of the girl, phildel // affc - sansa i // the jewish bride, rembrandt // @/rotgospels // twow - alayne i // vladimir nabokov, lolita // romeo and juliet (1968) // asos - sansa vi // her, poppy // azar nafisi, reading lolita in tehran: a memoir in books // ? // alisson wood, being lolita: a memoir // affc - sansa i
#*turns to audience* is this anything#sansa stark#alayne stone#petyr baelish#valyrianscrolls#web weaving#lolita#a storm of swords#a feast for crows#asoiaf#sansa x petyr is sooo lolita core (derogatory)#SHE HAD ABSOLUTELY NOWHERE ELSE TO GO#mine
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Satin Flowers Theories That Spark Joy:
1. He is a highborn!!!!
DEFINITELY POSSIBLE!!!!!! Satin having skills that mainly a highborn would have {reading, writing, etc}, him being bad at keeping fires in Jon's fireplace going {which is something a servant would do, and not a highborn}, etc.
2. He is the real Prince Aegon Targaryen {son of Prince Rhaegar Targaryen and Princess Elia Martell *who was "killed" when Tywin Lannister and his army sacked King's Landing*} and not Young Griff!!!!
A little out there, I know, but it's a fun theory!!!!!!!! If Satin is Rhaegar and Elia's Aegon, and Jon is Rhaegar and Lyanna's Aegon {or whatever Jon's real name might be, I really hope it's not Aegon}, then that means Jon Snow has been one - sidedly trying to court his half brother for 3 books {knowing the Valyrian's, that's not a bad thing, but they're both men, and one or both of them might not be into it}.
And if they're both Rhaegar's sons, them and Daenerys {Rhaegar's little sister} completes yet another 3 headed dragon {Dany as Aegon The Conqueror, Satin/Potential Aegon #? as Rhaenys, and Jon/Potential Aegon #? as Visenya. Walk with me. W A L K W I T H M E ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! }
More cons: 1. Satin being Rhaegar and Elia's Aegon would mean that another heir to the Iron Throne has thrown his life away to serve at a place that will kill you if you try to quit. And 2. As far as we know, Jon and their friends are the only support he has, and that wouldn't be enough to help him reclaim the throne {that Daenerys is also fighting for}.
3. He is one of Robert Baratheon's bastards!!!
Robert {a Baratheon man with Targaryen blood} was in love with a Stark man {Ned Stark, and not Ned's sister Lyanna *who went to war for, but couldn't even remember what she looked like*} and now Jon {A Stark man with Targaryen blood} in love with another potential Baratheon man with Targaryen blood?!?!?!?! {They'd still be related, but not as close as they'd be if he was Rhaegar and Elia's Aegon!!!!!!!!}
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Satin Flowers Theories That DO NOT Spark Joy:
1. He is one of Littlefinger's MANY spies!!!!
WHAT WOULD BE THE POINT?!?!?! I mean, if it somehow ties into Littlefinger's whole climb up the Ladder plan, sure. But other than that, he would just wasting his time, money, and a very pretty boy that can make him even richer.
2. HE IS ONE OF JON SNOW'S KILLERS!!!!
No matter Satin's possible station in the world, he literally has NOTHING to gain from killing Jon!!!! Jon comforted him when he was scared, stayed by his side while fighting, elevated his status {which includes living with Jon in his chambers instead of barracks full of men that hate him}, verbally tore apart all who talked shit about him, etc!!!!
The only thing Satin gains from killing one of his very few supporters, would be getting hurt and killed by enemies. Saying that Satin Flowers is one of the men that killed Jon Snow is about as believable as Sansa Stark causing the Doom Of Valyria {which happened centuries before she was born, but knowing Sansa antis, I'm sure they've found a way to blame her for that, too 🙄🙄💀💀}.
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Or, Satin Flowers could be just as GRRM introduced him as: A former sex worker turned into a man of the Night’s Watch, nothing more, nothing less. But I have a feeling that GRRM has plans for Satin, and I PRAY those don't include hurting or killing him right after the mutiny, or him being a traitor. Either of those would kill Jon....again....💀💀💔💔
#satin flowers#satin of oldtown#jon snow#aegon targaryen#rhaegar targaryen#daenerys targaryen#elia martell#lyanna stark#ned stark#sansa stark#robert baratheon#petyr baelish#littlefinger#house stark#house targaryen#house martell#house baratheon#night's watch#jonsatin#jon x satin#satin x jon#game of thrones#a song of ice and fire#got#asoiaf#lgbt#fandoms#theories#shows#books
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Sing Me Softly [Chapter 1 Release]
by EnemyOfInnocence
AO3:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/58924588/chapters/150200434
Summary: To save the North, Sansa Stark must flee Winterfell and defeat the Mad Queen, who killed Jon Snow in the capital. To save her house, she must sit the Iron Throne. To save herself, she must trust House Stark's greatest enemy — Petyr Baelish, who evaded death itself. To save the Seven Kingdoms, she must face the complicated feelings he stirs in her heart.
Story Tags/Warnings:
Enemies to lovers, hate to love, scheming, forced proximity, sharing a bed, unhealthy relationships, dead Jon Snow, mentions of past rape/non-con (Ramsay Bolton), Petyr Baelish in love, age gap, dark romance, sweet romance, mild angst with a happy ending, author regrets nothing (inappropriate use of author's talents)
#sansa x petyr#petyr x sansa#sansa stark#petyr baelish#sansa & petyr#petyr littlefinger baelish#littlefinger#game of thrones fanfic#game of thrones smut#the mad queen#mad queen daenerys#daenerys targaryen#bran stark#alayne stone#three eyed raven#westeros
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THE LONG WINTER — SANDOR CLEGANE.
Masterlist:
author's note + cast list
Parts: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7
CHAPTER SIX - THE KINGSROAD.
the birds have left their trees, the light
bores into me. i can feel you lying there
all on your — own.
warning: animal death described towards the end of the chapter!
With a harsh 'bang', Lyarra woke in a rush. As her eyes peeled open, she came to realize that she wasn't nestled in her bed. Instead, she was surrounded by dogs. At her side, laid Tyrion Lannister — who seemed to be using one of the shaggier beasts as a pillow. The two had been drinking through the night, no doubt. She didn't quite remember why the two ended up in the kennels, but she could vaguely recall Tyrion making some sort of joke about 'Hounds'. Lyarra rubbed her eyes, bleary as she forced herself up. She only then took notice of the man in front of her.
There, Sandor stood with a grimace bordering on a smirk. Lyarra could only imagine how she looked at that moment. Disheveled, grimy. Far from the appearance expected of a lady. He only waited another moment before extending his armored hand. She glanced over him before clutching onto it, allowing him to pull her up arduously. She quickly brushed herself off, moving to thank the man — before she noticed the Prince approaching in the distance.
"Go on, I'll handle the little lord." Sandor grunted, nodding towards the door for her to make her escape. Lyarra sent him a gracious nod, before moving in the opposite direction of Joffrey.
Since Eddard notified her of their coming departure, Lyarra hadn't had much of an opportunity to speak with the royal family. Joffrey, in particular, had evaded her — not that she was disappointed by that fact. Rather, she was grateful to avoid more Lannisters. Or, Baratheons, she supposed. The only Lannister she sought to speak with, beyond Tyrion, had been impossible to find, it seemed. At each opportunity, Jaime Lannister snuck away from her — as if he was frightened of being seen with her. She hadn't expected the two to be close, after all of these years, but seeing the man avoid her as he had struck Lyarra with a cold feeling. She'd had half the mind to mention it to Tyrion, before thinking better of it.
As she exited her quarters, this time properly prepared — with her hair braided and held high, and white furs pulled tightly around herself — Lyarra made the familiar journey to Bran's room. She'd spent most of her nights there, since the boy had been injured. Reyne had been assigned as his caretaker for the time being, meaning Sansa was given a new handmaiden. As the door cracked open, Lyarra peaked through. There, sat Catelyn — who'd been sewing something that she didn't dare question. Reyne was by her side, brushing Bran's hair from his face with the back of her hand.
"How is he?" She questioned softly, delicately trying to not disturb the peace within the room. Catelyn didn't acknowledge her, and only tilted her head as she considered the words.
"They say that if he makes it through the night, he'll live." Her voice was raspy, straining with the lack of use. Lyarra nodded, settling herself in the seat beside Reyne. She reached to clasp Catelyn's free hand, squeezing it with all of the energy she could muster. Her sister-by-law sent her a grateful smile, moving as if she meant to speak — before the two were interrupted by the harsh creek of a door being opened. Cersei Lannister made her way inside, and Catelyn was on her feet within seconds. Lyarra herself hadn't moved, nor had Reyne — a fact that had the Queen shoot them an almost imperceptible glare.
"Please," Cersei amended, nodding to Catelyn to take her seat. The woman in question only ruffled her clothing, hands grasping at anything she could find to make herself appear less disheveled.
"I would have dressed, Your Grace."
"This is your home. I'm your guest."
"You must forgive us for the state of things, Your Grace. The last few days have been rather difficult." Lyarra remarked, brushing her fingers through the furs that covered Bran.
Cersei didn't acknowledge that she'd spoke, and instead moved further towards the boy in bed. She began telling a story of her own, describing the death of her first son. The tale had Lyarra's heart pang with sympathy, something that she'd been surprised to feel for the Queen. As she continued to recount the story, Lyarra reached to grasp onto Reyne's hand, rubbing her thumb along her knuckles. Cersei extended prayers to Catelyn, before she turned to Lyarra.
"Do you have children of your own?" The question held no malice, yet Lyarra observed as Cersei's gaze turned sharp. Tears were still brimming within the eyes of the Queen. Lyarra willed herself to take a breath, before turning to Reyne.
"Not of my own blood, but yes." She admitted, continuing to rub the girl's hand. Reyne hadn't looked away from Bran once, but Lyarra noticed her startle at the question all the same.
"I extend my prayers to you as well, then. No mother should be separated from their children, by death or distance alike." With that, Cersei exited the room — sucking the air out with her. The remaining women within the room were silent, processing her words. They were only disturbed when Maester Luwin entered the room, raising a brow at their solemn expressions.
Though she'd been searching relentlessly for the boy, Jon seemed to be a step ahead of her everywhere she went. She'd gone to the blacksmith, and instead learned he'd been there just minutes prior. She'd gone to find Arya, just to be told that Jon had just left her side. She'd even peaked her head into Bran's room, only for Catelyn to tell her with a grimace that he'd only just left.
When she finally caught him, he had been making his way through the courtyard with a sack of his belongings. Lyarra's own attempts to pack evaded her. Usually, she would have asked Reyne to do so — but since Bran had yet to wake, Reyne was charged with staying by his side in Winterfell. As such, she wouldn't be able to make the journey to King's Landing. Lyarra came to realize with a sinking feeling, that she'd be saying goodbye to both of her children on the same day.
She watched as Robb and Jon made their way through the yard, sharing words between themselves. She chose to make her approach then, placing an hand on Robb — as he turned to acknowledge her presence.
"Next time we see him, he'll be all in black." Robb laughed, shaking the boy with his free arm. Lyarra tried her hardest to force a smile to her lips, but she was sure she'd failed when the two boys winced.
"It was always my color." Jon joked, his laugh coming out more forced than anything. The two boys brought one another close again, muttering words imperceptible to the common ear. As they pulled away, Robb gave her a significant look — stepping away then to chase after one of his siblings. Lyarra took a breath as she tightened her jaw. She'd be riding alongside Eddard to bid Jon farewell properly, once the road forked. But she'd realized now, that this could be her last chance to hold him close.
Jon met her halfway, matching her fervor as he wrapped his arms around her. She buried herself in his neck, with a face full of fur. Lyarra wasn't certain how long the two sat like that, wrapped in one another. He'd pulled away after another moment, with an expression of steel — save for his quivering lip. She only stepped away once she noticed a blonde mop of hair approaching, her hands clasped timidly. Just as he had with Lyarra, Jon pulled Reyne to him. Lyarra couldn't help but join their embrace, kissing their foreheads in tandem.
"You'll come back, won't you? We'll all see each other again?" Reyne questioned, her voice hardly higher than a whisper. Lyarra's heart plummeted at the inquiry, and she could hardly hold back the tears that threatened to break free. It was all so similar to the last time she'd seen Brandon. When he promised her he'd return, holding her close as he whispered things that would never come to pass. Lyarra did not want to make false promises, as he had. But as she saw the girl's composure threaten to break, she forced herself to nod — clasping onto Jon's furs as she spoke.
"We'll all see one another again." Lyarra repeated, pressing another kiss to Reyne's temple as Jon pulled away. He mounted his horse then, peeling off with another look in Reyne's direction. The girl's sniffles were becoming more noticeable by the minute, though Lyarra did her best to not take note of them.
"Take care of the boys, alright? Don't leave their side. They'll need you, as you'll need them." Reyne nodded repeatedly, as if she was no longer in true control of her actions. Lyarra ran her hands down the girl's arm in what she could only hope was a comforting motion. "You're a Stark, through and through. Never forget that, Reyne. You are my daughter. And I love you with all my heart."
The remainder of her goodbyes were short, as most of the family was making the journey to King's Landing anyway. Robb had pulled her to him, similar to Jon, and placed his forehead against hers. Though the two had their differences, Lyarra did not doubt that she'd miss her nephew beyond measure. Theon, however, had been a far more emotional farewell. By the time she'd found him, she was no longer able to hold back her tears. He did his best to act as if he wasn't crying himself, only brushing her hair back as she continued to unload her tears into his fur — but she'd bristled as he'd hiccuped through his own cries more than once. Theon Greyjoy was the biggest nuisance she'd ever met. And she missed the boy already.
Catelyn only placed her hand overtop Lyarra's, asking her to look over her children. Unlike the last time they had bid one another farewell, she made no promise of her return — nor that of Eddard's. She squeezed her hand within hers as she had before, and assured her that she would do her best.
After so many years, it was unusual taking part in such a large traveling party. She rode close to Jon and Eddard, observing as Benjen and Tyrion rode further ahead than the rest. Benjen had approached her the night before with caution, fearing an outburst from her —
no doubt. She could no longer force herself to blame the man for Jon's wishes, however, and only sighed at his trepidation. She'd hugged her brother then, tighter than she had in years. He promised to look after Jon, to watch over him as he began his Watch. As much as Lyarra longed to ignore the feeling, she couldn't help but think that these goodbyes felt different than they had in the past. They felt more permanent, more sorrowful.
Tyrion, however, only suggested that the two drink through their sorrows. Thus, resulting in the two waking in the kennels. She'd miss the little Lannister, she came to realize. He'd been a comforting presence through the days of the King's visit. He had never once treated her any different because of her station — or because she was a woman, for that matter.
As part of the group tore off, heading in another direction — Lyarra forced herself to steel her nerves. Tyrion turned to look at her then, giving her a long look — which, from her time with the man, could be interpreted as 'Well, fuck'. Benjen nodded in her direction, forcing a smile as he turned his horse back to face the road itself.
"There's great honor serving in the Night's Watch. The Starks have manned the wall for thousands of years. And you are a Stark." Ned stated, and Lyarra couldn't help but nod in agreement. At his words, Jon turned to face her — an unreadable expression marring his face. "You may not have our name, but you have our blood." He gestured towards Lyarra then, and the action itself brought warmth through her. She knew that Jon was not her son, that he longed to be Eddard's true-born, and yet Ned's tone suggested that he was just as much her blood as his.
Jon glanced at her then, eyes flickering between the two figures. He was thinking over his words, no doubt. Ned hesitated for only a moment, before riding off to join the remaining group. Lyarra steadied her horse, clasping onto his mane as she attempted to force words to come to her lips.
"I've spent my entire life wondering who my mother is. Wondering, is she alive? Does she know about me? Where I am, where I'm going?" Jon paused, turning to Lyarra once more. She held her breath as the boy rambled on, forcing herself to not take his words to heart. "Does she care?"
"Jon—" She started, but was cut off by a quick shake of the boy's head. The two only had so much time. She could still see Eddard's head peeking over the hills, but within a moment she'd have to quicken the speed of her horse to catch up with the rest.
"I've been so focused on a woman I didn't know, that I've ignored the mother in front of me." Anything she'd intended to say before was now muddled, leaving way for nothing but silence. "You are my mother. You always have been. Blood or no, that doesn't change." He stated, leaving no room for argument. Lyarra's breaths were shallow. She found herself longing to be beside him, then, to pull him close as she had before. The two were interrupted only by a shout from Eddard. They'd run out of time. Lyarra grasped the reins of her horse, pulling him ahead.
"I will see you again, my son. I'm sure of it." With that Lyarra forced herself to ride on, tearing her eyes from the boy as they moved in separate directions. She'd caught up to Ned with ease, as he'd stalled to wait for her.
"Did he ask about his mother?" Eddard questioned once they'd returned to the group. She paused only for a moment, before turning to him with finality set in her gaze.
"Aye, he did."
The party seldom stopped, usually only for the sake of Robert's bladder alone. Once, they'd took a break just before an open field. Arya had grown tired of her carriage, and through the journey had somehow ended up perched on Lyarra's horse. The moment they'd peeled off to rest, Arya had shot off of the beast and into the field. This resulted in a chase between the two, as Arya attempted to weave past the woman. They continued to run after one another for what felt like hours, only stopping when a familiar voice called after them.
"The fuck' are you two doing?" Sandor rasped, stomping towards them as he made his way down the hill. Lyarra panted, brushing a rogue strand of hair from her face. Her cheeks were flushed, chest heaving with exhaustion. All the while, Arya continued running circles around the woman — carefully avoiding the man before them, though Lyarra paid that no mind.
"What does it look like? Running after her. This little beast," She paused as Arya rounded on her, and took that as the moment to strike. Within an instant, the girl was wrapped around the side of her, held only by what little strength Lyarra had left. "is difficult to catch. She's too fast for the likes of me." She laughed as the girl flailed in her arms, conceding to place her back on the grass after a moment.
Sandor shot her a curious look, unclasping one of his gauntlets. Before Lyarra could question him, the man lunged at her — picking her up with ease, slinging her on his shoulder. Lyarra let out an indignant squawk. She was facing his back, while her legs hung against his chest. She had half the mind to shout, before kicking her legs in aggravation.
"Seems like you, on the other hand, aren't hard to catch at all." He placed her heavily back on the grass after another moment, a smug grin turning the corner of his lips. Lyarra groaned in a way unbecoming of herself, before she harshly dropped to the ground — laying her back against the grass.
"Is that what it was like when you were younger?" She questioned, turning towards Arya — who had been watching the two with an unreadable expression. "Cause' that was no fair. Twice my height, and then some." Lyarra repeated the familiar words, a complaint that she'd heard from Arya not long ago. Sandor only snorted before retreating to where they'd last seen the prince. She watched as he made his retreat, something that Arya used to her advantage — as she took the opportunity to strike, climbing over the woman to elbow her in the ribs.
Arya spent the next few days tormenting Lyarra. Every time she thought she'd get a moment of silence, the girl decided to pipe up — asking questions about anything they came across. Eventually, Lyarra had enough — handing the girl off to Septa Mordane before she could say anything else. Sansa, on the other hand, hadn't said much at all. Instead, she'd taken to staring longingly after the royal family as they rode ahead.
By the time they had reached an Inn at the crossroads, Lyarra had decided she'd had enough of horses for a lifetime. She was beginning to regret bargaining to ride her own, so that she hadn't had to ride in the carriage with the rest. As she dismounted the creature, she observed from a distance as Sansa shared words with Sandor. 'The Hound', she'd heard the men call him. A beast. The title almost made her laugh, if not for the mocking way they'd declared it. She didn't know the man well, if at all. Yet even as a boy, he'd protected her from his brother. He carried her to her bed, when she was too drunk to walk. More than once, he'd spent his evenings with her and Tyrion in Winterfell. She couldn't find anything 'beastly' about that.
As if he'd heard her thoughts, the man approached her then — head bowed low after his conversation with the Prince.
"The little bird scares easy. She won't do very well in King's Landing, with that attitude." Sandor muttered, nodding towards the red-haired girl who now walked alongside the Prince. Lyarra only hummed, brushing the mane of her horse. 'Frost', Jon had named the beast — due to his white hue. Even his lashes were pale, a fact that only further reminded her of Reyne.
"Can't say for certain that I'll fare any better." Lyarra admitted, turning to the man then — as he raised a brow. He'd gone to speak once more, before the two were cut off by a harsh shout. In an instant, the Kingsguard were up-in-arms, chasing after the sound. Sandor only shot her a look of defeat before he took off after them, Lyarra following suit. Sansa came running then, meeting the men before they could go any further. Joffrey was hurt, she'd supplied, though she hadn't said much else. Before Lyarra could follow them, Sansa grasped onto her arm — pulling her back.
"It was Arya, Arya did it. Nymeria bit Joffrey," She'd whispered, her voice shaking with fear. Lyarra felt terror sink into her own heart, as the implications of what the girl was saying hit her fully. If Arya was behind an attack on the prince, she could be greatly punished for it. Lyarra moved then to look for the girl, before she was once again pulled back by Sansa. "Please, please don't let anyone get hurt. Joffrey didn't mean to hurt anyone."
Lyarra attempted to soothe the girl as best she could, brushing her hair back softly — though the shaking in her own hands had become increasingly noticeable. "What happened out there? What did Joffrey do?" The moment the Prince's name had been mentioned, Lyarra ignored any blame directed towards her niece. In an instant, Sansa became rigid — hesitation coating her actions, as she all but refused to meet Lyarra's eye. She couldn't speak against the Prince, not when she was intending on becoming his future queen. When she came to realize properly that the girl wasn't going to speak, Lyarra called after Septa Mordane. Once she was certain Sansa would have someone watching over her, she ran in the opposite direction of the Kingsguard — searching desperately for her niece.
She'd found her just before a full hour had passed, curled under the stump of a tree. Lyarra was at her side in a flash, her hands running over her in quick movements to check for any kind of wound. Once she was certain there were none to be found, she pulled the girl back to face her — all but crumpling as she noticed the look of sorrow on her face.
"I had to send Nymeria away. They would have killed her for what she did to Joffrey. They would have killed her," Arya repeated, fisting Lyarra's tunic as she collapsed into her chest. She couldn't do much more than rub the girl's back as she cried, her heart only further shattering at each hiccup.
"Arya, you must tell me what happened," She requested, once she had begun to settle in the slightest. She'd felt the girl tense in her arms, and Lyarra almost regretted asking as she felt another fit of tears build. Arya had only just gone to speak, when they were interrupted by the familiar clinking of metal. The Kingsguard had found them. Not only that, but when she found the courage to raise her head — she was met with the face of Jaime Lannister. His expression hadn't given much away, but his eyes held a level of regret within them. He extended his hand to her then, and Lyarra resigned herself to clutching it — still holding Arya to her chest as she rose.
The men beside him had shot forward then, taking the girl from her arms as if she were a prisoner. Lyarra protested in anger, but was quickly silenced by Jaime's sharp glare.
"She is to be brought before the King. Those are my orders. Nothing else." He parted his arms then as if to placate her, but as Lyarra observed a guard push Arya harshly forwards — all comfort evaded her. Jaime, seemingly noticing this, only resigned himself to nod and move ahead.
"And what of her father? Should he not be present for this audience?" She demanded, stomping forward to move into his line of sight. Jaime all but deflated as she continued to argue, moving to push past her once again — before she stopped him with a harsh shove of her own.
"She attacked the Prince, Lyarra. I don't know what you expect of me. The Queen asked me to find her, so I did. She asked me to bring her to the King, so I will. I am a Guard, and as such I follow orders." Jaime ranted in one quick breath. The group itself had walked ahead, though Lyarra could still see the top of Arya's head between the bodies of the guards.
"The King's orders? Or your sister's?" Lyarra bit back, pausing only to watch the words sink into Jaime's head as she stomped ahead.
By the time Eddard had made his way back to the inn, Arya had already been brought to stand before the King. Robert had made a point to not speak to her without her Father present, a right that only he had deemed important. The moment Arya caught sight of her father, he reached to grasp her face in the palm of his hands.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" She chanted, voice crumpling as her resolve threatened to break. Arya always acted as if she were so much older than she was. She carried herself like a warrior. It was only at this moment that Lyarra allowed herself to notice how young the girl truly was. Within a moment she was beside her niece. As Eddard stepped forward to consult the King, Arya leaned into Lyarra's side. Jory stood close behind the two, a fact that only comforted Lyarra but a fraction.
"What is the meaning of this? Why was my daughter not brought to me at once?"
"How dare you speak to your king in that manner?" Cersei bit, scowling down at Ned. Lyarra had her own reply waiting, but as Jory placed a hand on her shoulder — shaking his head in the slightest, she allowed herself to take a breath. Robert rolled his eyes as his wife spoke, a fact that would have filled Lyarra with pity — had they not been in the situation they were.
"Quiet, woman." He grunted, and Lyarra observed as Cersei hadn't even batted an eye. She was used to his attitude, then. For a moment, she couldn't help but think that this could have been her sister. Lyanna could have been the one who'd been forced to suffer his wrath, tolerating his insults. "Sorry, Ned. I never meant to frighten the girl. But we need to get this done quickly." Cersei stepped forward then, unperturbed as her husband prattled on.
"Your girl and that butcher's boy attacked my son. That animal of hers nearly tore his arm off." The Queen stated, only meeting Ned's gaze. Lyarra paused then to glance down at Arya. She had yet to receive the truth of what had happened from anyone. Sansa had suggested Joffrey had something to do with it, but hadn't said much else.
"That's not true! She just bit him a little. He was hurting Mycah." Arya spat, glancing up at her aunt — before soon realizing she should be directing her explanation to the King. Robert's eyes had widened a fraction, as he processed what she said. Cersei and the Prince, however, made no such movement. They convinced themself of what the truth was, and weren't going to let a little girl argue with them any longer.
"Joff' told us what happened. You and that boy beat him with clubs while you set your wolf on him." The Queen insisted, only then glancing down at Arya. Lyarra felt the girl tense in her arms, and reached to keep her at her side.
"That's not what happened!"
"Yes, it is!"
The two children argued back and forth for another moment, as Lyarra came to a frightening realization. They would not come out of this confrontation unscathed. The Lannisters would not allow them to. Cersei called Sansa in at that moment, asking her to recount what had occurred. Sansa, just as she had before, avoided the question — her voice timid, as she only stared forward at the King. She claimed that she hadn't remembered, that she didn't know what had happened. That was all it took for Arya to retaliate, pulling on her sister's furs.
"She's as wild as that animal of hers. I want her punished."
As the group continued to argue, Robert spoke up once again. Eddard was to discipline Arya privately, while he tended to Joffrey on his own. Just as she had gone to make her retreat, pushing Arya in front of her — Cersei spoke up once more.
"And what of the direwolf? What of the beast that savaged your son?"
If they were lucky, Nymeria had fled into the night. The Lannister guard confirmed as much, telling the King that they caught no sign of the beast. Before Lyarra could allow herself a breath of relief, the Queen had another thought.
"We have another wolf."
Within a beat, Lyarra's heart ran cold. Lady. The Lannisters intended to have Lady killed, due to Nymeria's defense of Arya. Sansa began to tremble once more, leaning heavily into her aunt's side. Before she could stop herself, she pulled the girl against her — doing her best to muffle her cries.
"He doesn't mean Lady, does he? No, no, not Lady! Lady didn't bite anyone! She's good!" Sansa cried into her furs, as Arya came to her defense — arguing that Lady shouldn't be punished. Cersei had made up her mind, however, requesting that Ilyn Payne tend to the wolf. Eddard spoke up then, halting the man's motions. He looked to Lyarra then, nodding to his daughters.
"Jory, Lyarra. Take the girls to their rooms." He grumbled, resigned to do the deed himself. "If it must be done, then I'll do it myself." With that, he made his way out-- head bowed low. Jory moved to heed Ned's wishes, taking Arya in arm, before noticing that Lyarra hadn't budged. She pulled herself from Sansa then, kissing her forehead as she followed her brother — gesturing for Jory to watch over the girls.
Eddard hadn't been difficult to catch up to, and Lyarra held no doubt that he was stalling to avoid what was to come. As she stepped towards him, his expression wasn't one of surprise — rather, defeat.
"You don't need to see this. You should be with the girls. They need you right now, more than I do." Ned muttered, though his tone held no sense of expectancy. He knew she didn't intend to budge, and only moved further towards the kennels. As they trudged down the path, they took note of the man approaching them — horse at his side, something slung over the creature. Sandor hadn't done more than raise a brow upon sight of her, but he stalled in the slightest. Across the horse laid a body, one coated in blood — with thick slashes down its body. It could only belong to one person, Lyarra came to realize in horror.
"The butcher's boy, you rode him down?" Eddard's voice wavered, disgust evident in his glare. Sandor paused then, facing the two — though he only met Lyarra's gaze. She willed herself to feel something other than fear, but nothing came. She wasn't sure what she as afraid of, in that moment. However, she was oddly certain it wasn't Sandor. She'd seen a corpse before, but not that of a child's. But she knew of what it meant to honor duty. To know you must follow something, though you did not want to do it. Lyarra had heard of 'The Hound'. Of the Sandor Clegane that could slice a grown man in half with only the flick of his blade. She wasn't certain that she'd met him, until that very moment.
"He ran. Not very fast." With that, Sandor shot another look her away — before pulling away with the horse in tow. Lyarra willed her feet to move, after that, doing her best to ignore the trembling within her figure. Eddard had glanced over at her, once he was certain the man was out of sight — but she couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze.
Once they'd reached the kennels, Lyarra could hardly hold back her gasp. There, Lady sat, bright as a first snow — with wide eyes, tail wagging once she took note of the two familiar faces. She had half the mind to release the beast, as Arya had. But she knew better. They hadn't found the last wolf. This time, they wouldn't settle without seeing its corpse.
Lyarra crouched beside Lady, as Eddard approached her from behind. She could hardly hold back her tears, as she caressed the animal's fur. Lady came to lay beside her, looking up at her with love that could only be found in an animal. Ned made quick work of the blade, and with a whine — she was gone. She rose then, taking note of Eddard's solemn expression, before making her way back to the inn.
Her feet carried her to the tavern, and she perched herself on a stool — throwing coin in the vague direction of a worker, before she could stop herself. Sleep would evade her, and if she returned to her room now — she'd find one of her nieces, inconsolable. The thought made her heart heavy, but she knew all too well that she was not sober enough for the night ahead. Before her drink came, a heavy lump took a seat beside her. There, Sandor sat, blood still coating his cheeks. Had Lyarra not been as exhausted as she was, the sight itself would have disgusted her. Instead, she raised her thumb to his cheek — determinedly ignoring his sharp flinch at her approach, as she wiped the blood from him. As he adjusted himself, leaning closer to her by only an inch, Lyarra couldn't help her own flinch.
"You frightened of me now, Little Wolf?" The name forced painful memories through her head. Memories that she'd been doing her best to forget. Instead, she grimaced — her drink being placed beside her at that moment. She took a swig of the ale, cringing at its bitter flavor.
"I've seen worse than the likes of you. Takes more than a little blood to scare me." Lyarra admitted, avoiding his gaze — though she could feel the heat of it. He only rasped out a noise that sounded vaguely like a chuckle. When she had glanced over at him, he'd been staring down at his gauntlets — furiously wiping what appeared to be another stain of blood. "In fact, I'd say I'm more frightened with myself now — than anything." As Sandor ripped his stare away from his armor, raising a brow at her words — she continued.
"I cried when we put down Lady. As if she were my own flesh and blood. And yet, just before— when I saw the butcher's boy," Lyarra paused then, forcing a name to come to her lips, "Mycah. When I saw him, I froze. I didn't cry. I didn't feel much of anything, beyond fear." Sandor was silent for a moment, taking her words in with a swig of his own drink. Wine, she assumed. She'd only seen the man drink wine, in all this time.
"Dogs are honest creatures," Wolves, she corrected in her head, though she made no move to speak. "'S why I like 'em. A hound will die for you, but never lie to you. And he'll look you in the face." He paused then, his fingers outstretched as if he itched to remove his armor. "If it's anyone's fault, it's your idiot fucking' brother. Who the fuck' brings a wolf the size of three-men-combined to King's Landing? Let alone two."
Lyarra allowed herself to laugh, as she considered the man's words. Ned permitted the girls to bring their wolves, partially because he didn't want them to be alone — but also because he knew well enough they wouldn't be able to be cared for back home. If only she'd argued against it. In the back of her mind, she thought of what it would have been like for Jon. He would've fought to the death for Ghost, no doubt. He would've stepped in front of a blade himself, before he allowed it to be brought down on the wolf's head. The thought made her shudder, and Sandor sent her another curious glance before she drank down the remainder of her ale.
She stood then, wobbling on her two feet — before bumping into the figure beside her. It was only after a moment that she'd realized Sandor had placed two hands on her, steadying her so that she wouldn't fall again. His expression held a vague hint of amusement within it, though he steeled himself — light fading just as quickly as it had appeared.
"Seven hells, woman. You need me to fucking' carry you again?" He grumbled, moving to pick her up by her waist — but she quickly shot out a hand to stop him. Lyarra gestured only for him to help her to the door, and the two paused once the moon hit their faces. Just before they reached the rooms of the inn, Lyarra stopped — Sandor shooting an arm out in order to keep himself in place, after her sudden movement.
"We won't be safe in King's Landing, will we?" She questioned quietly, her eyes turned to him — seeking something, though she was not certain what it was. Comfort? Reassurance? He only paused, moving to grasp onto her shoulder with familiarity she was not certain she deserved.
"I'll keep you safe, Little Wolf." He promised, moving her forward then before she could say much else. She turned to thank him properly once they had reached her room, but by the time she had the chance — he was gone. Lyarra only frowned for a moment, before barging her way in. She regretted her loud entrance after only a second, as she noticed Sansa curled into her bed. The red-head shot up at the sound of the door opening, and Lyarra couldn't help but wince at her expression. The girl was exhausted, no doubt. She made her way to her quickly, laying beside her as she pulled Sansa to her chest.
"She's going to hate me forever, isn't she?" The girl questioned, voice only slightly muffled by the fur. Lyarra paused as she considered the question. Arya was stubborn, and likely would march around for the next few days — even weeks, claiming that she despised her sister. That Sansa was evil, and she never wanted to see her again. She only brushed Sansa's hair back, curling her finger around the smaller locks near her ear.
"She'll come to understand why you did what you did. When she's older." Lyarra felt the girl's tears start to build again, and with a comforting hush she held her tighter. Eventually, Sansa's breath started to even — sleep overtaking her. Lyarra did not dare move, and instead only pulled the furs tighter around the two of them. She did not know what the future had in store for them, let alone in King's Landing. She couldn't promise to keep the Stark girls safe. Not with lions breathing down their neck. All she could do was try to care for them the best she was able to.
So. Then that happened. This has been one of my shorter chapters actually.. Weird. Not a lot happened in this. Besides... everything I guess. Never mind. Maybe so much happened that it feels like nothing happened?? Idk... Anyways.
More Sandor & Lyarra scenes! Yay! I will warn you all now that this will be.. very much a slow-burn. More slow than burn. But they will have many more interactions from now on. Sandor is intrigued by Lyarra, especially since she didn't shy away from him after the whole .. 'Mycah' incident.
In other news, Jaime is still being weird! Ig that happens when you sleep with your sister... Alright buddy. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. As always, feel free to leave any comments you have!
Thank you,
Zevran.
#got x reader#sandor clegane#the hound x reader#sandor clegane x reader#the hound#jon snow#lyanna stark#petyr baelish#petyr baelish x reader#tormund giantsbane#sansa stark#eddard stark#game of thrones x reader#game of thrones#game of thrones fanfiction#oc: lyarra stark
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saw a tiktok comparing Catelyn Stark to Alicent Hightower (ss dow below) and since this is such a brain dead take I felt the need to write this out.
First of all, calling Peytr Catelyns lover is so fucking disgusting. Catelyn has never EVER looked at petyr with anything other than brotherly affection. They played "kissing games" as children but Cat was quick to end them whereas Lysa kept playing them with him. In fact, when he tried to kiss her again after she was betrothed to Brandon Stark she pushed him away laughing...LAUGHING GUYS. When brandon died, petyr sent her a letter and burnt the fuck out of it and went on to marry ned stark and eventually fall in love with him. do not ever call catelyn and peytr lovers smh.
Second of all, Catelyn was not particularly angry at ned for having an affair and producing a bastard, she was angry that she brought jon into her new home to raise as she saw that as a threat to her children and grandchildrens inheritance. Catelyn had an actual valid reason to fear her husbands supposed bastard. Catelyn lived in the aftermath of the blackfyre rebellions and her society could still feel the after affects of bastard siblings rising up to take claim to their trueborn siblings inheritances. Alicent however???? she just straight up hated bastards and hated Rhaenyra. It wouldnt have mattered is Rhaenyras kids were bastards as their claim comes through her. Alicent had no valid reason to hate Rhaenyras children as Rhaenyra was heir to the throne, Alicents children had no claim in the eyes of the Iron Throne because Viserys had chosen his heir.
Also, dont compare Catelyns mothering to Alicent. In peace times, Alicent set her 13 year old daughter with her creepy rapist son because she so badly wanted to overthrow Rhaenyra. She may have loved her children in her own way, but alicent most definitely saw her children as a way to gain more power. Catelyn, on the other hand, was a loving mother who did all she could to protect her children. Catelyn was constantly looking for ways to save her daughters. She fought off an assassian that was after bran. She does all she can to support and aid robb as a king going through a war. Hell man, her very last act (before getting resurrected) is to try to barter for robbs' life, and death doesn't even stop this woman. She puppets her fucking corpse around to get vengance for her children, one of these women was a better mother and let me tell you it was not alicent fucking hightower.
I've linked the og tiktok so you can have even more context but this shit pissed me off badddd.
#catelyn tully#catelyn stark#alicent hightower#queen alicent#house stark#house tully#house hightower#robb stark#petyr baelish#ned x catelyn#nedcat#ned stark#jon snow#house targaryen#bran stark#sansa stark#arya stark#anti alicent hightower#anti alicent stans#pro catelyn stark
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Romantic feelings for a 13-14 year old girl who was already a bride according to the laws of the time, medieval age (fantasy but it's clearly inspired by the real Middle Ages where this was the social norm, which is wrong now, and that's a good thing) - does not make a character a paedophile who should be killed for paedophilia. And I'm not talking about Tyrion. I'm talking about Petyr.
He's an immoral jerk who cut Sansa's garnet and orange with the dagger he put to her father's throat (and did other immoral things) - yes. Pedo - no.
Seriously, that's just not the correct term. In the perception of Petyr, Harry the Heir, or Tyrion in the book - they're not a grooming pedo. She's a already a woman by the law of that time who can get officially married.
#petyr baelish#game of thrones#sansa stark#petyr x sansa#a song of ice and fire#Tyrion#asoiaf#tyrion lannister
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#i didn't make this#game of thrones#sansa stark#petyr baelish#petyr littlefinger baelish#petyr x sansa#littlebirdfinger#lol
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Their last words to you:
Sandor Clegane:
You had been ambushed and attacked by a bunch of thieves. Sandor had had no choice but to fight back and try to kill all of them—but he had suffered through numerous stabbing wounds and at the end, he knew he wasn’t gonna make it. He fell to the ground as you screamed and cried out his name. You tried to stop the blood from flowing, but you couldn’t. He had too many injuries and you could only sob as you desperately tried to find a solution.
But…
Sandor lifted a hand to your cheek and his eyes met yours. You both knew that he wouldn’t last much longer and there was so many things he had to say and that he wouldn’t have the time to say. So many things he had hoped he would get to do and experience with you. And now, he felt that tell-tale pang in his chest.
He could almost laugh at the irony. For so long, he had laughed at the face of death and taunted it to come get him. But now, he was willing to pray for just another day with you.
He swallowed with difficulty before speaking up—his voice low and shaky.
"…You are…everything I never deserved. Everything I never thought I’d ever find in this fucked up world. And fuck…You made me want to live, Y/N. But now…I have no choice but to ask you. Please. Please, Y/N. Do not let me suffer. I hate pain. So, you gonna have to cut our goodbyes short—yeah ?"
You shook your head at first. No. No. You wouldn’t do it. You refused to do it. There had to be another way. A way to save him. Anything.
"Y/N. I need ya. I need ya. Please." He insisted and you sobbed harder. No. You didn’t want to say goodbye to Sandor. But when he stared at you with pleading eyes and blood stained your hands…you knew that there was nothing to be done. You sighed and took out your knife. You pressed your forehead against his.
"…See you soon, Sandor."
You then kissed his forehead before stabbing him in the heart.
Petyr Baelish (Littlefinger):
"Y/N…" He started and you looked up to meet his gaze. "I warned you when we first met. Falling in love with me would be a mistake, that I would only end up disappointing you."
His eyes were empty. Gone was the arrogant and manipulative little weasel you had grown to love and respect. Only Petyr remained now. He looked at you without actually seeing you. He seemed so pitiful now…Had he always been that way inside ? Lost and empty and miserable ? Had you really fallen for that man ?
"I never regretted choosing you, Petyr." You still replied and a small smile graced his features—sad and pitiful.
"Petyr…" You whispered. "Is this…Is this really goodbye ?"
He took a shuddering breath and addressed you a saddened smile.
"I am afraid so, sweetheart."
Sweetheart…That name. That affectionate little name which made your heart happy and your mind content. He was trying to tell you something. Petyr Baelish had never told that he loved you. He had never been able to get through that obstacle as long as you had known him.
But that little sweetheart had still managed to wrap you around his little finger.
He had you eating out of the palm of his hand.
And now, you were sitting across from him. It was almost time for the execution. You didn’t look each other in the eyes. You knew you should be afraid, but you weren’t. You knew it didn’t matter anymore.
Too late to change fate now.
A guard came.
"Lord Petyr Baelish. Lady Y/N Baelish. It is time."
You both looked at the guard before looking at each other. Petyr stood up and offered you his hand.
"…Shall we, my Lady wife ?"
You looked at his outstretched hand and smiled before taking it.
"Lead the way, my Lord husband."
Even after the execution…rumours has it that you and Petyr’s hands stayed firmly locked together—united until death and beyond.
Oberyn Martell:
"Come on, little flower. We had our fun, didn’t we ?"
When Oberyn said those words, you knew. You knew that this was the end. He had grown bored of you. It was to be expected of course, but it still hurt. You forced yourself to smile.
"Very well. I hope we can still remain friends, my Prince ?" You asked—hopeful. His friendship was dear to you and you so loved his company. If he thought that he didn’t desire your body anymore, but you still wanted to enjoy his company and hear his wonderful poetry…
He smiled—but it seemed so fake.
"Of course, my little flower. I would like that."
Liar.
The word echoed in his own head. He was a liar. Being your friend was far from what he wanted. He wanted your brain, your heart and your beautiful soul to belong to him and for it to remain so until you both grew old and withered.
But…he had to protect you.
He knew he would be fighting the Mountain soon. Ellaria was strong enough to withstand his possible defeat and death. But, you ? You were such a lovely and delicate little flower. If he was to disappear and break your heart upon his death, then you would certainly lose your mind. Oberyn loved you enough to realise that the best was to break your heart instead of your mind. He hence decided to prepare you for the perspective that he may not survive.
He saw you turn around to leave and he lifted a hand towards your retreating form. He opened his mouth to speak up, but reconsidered and lowered his arm. It was…better this way. And if he was to win the fight ? Then, he would explain everything to you and you would laugh it off together…
A few days later, he faced Ser Gregor Clegane.
He managed to stay on top for most of the fight and both you and Ellaria were happy to see Oberyn finally get revenge for Elia and her children.
But then…Oberyn’s eyes met yours.
He smiled at you and before you knew it, Ser Gregor had cut off his head. You felt your heart stop in your chest. Unlike Ellaria, you didn’t scream—not a sound managed its way past your lips at that moment. You just stared as your ex-lover’s head rolled down his shoulders and kept rolling until it stopped a few feet away from you. He was still smiling. That smile. That lovely and sweet and warm smile that made you feel as if everything would be alright…
You then wordlessly got out a crossbow you had been hiding and aimed at Gregor’s head before unhesitatingly shooting. The arrow went straight through his skull and the giant dropped dead on the sand right next to Oberyn’s body. Before anyone could stop you, you then picked up Oberyn’s head and cradled it in your arms before walking away.
No one dared to stop you.
Tyrion Lannister:
When Tyrion had asked to meet with you in the Red Keep’s gardens…you had been so excited—happy to see him again after all those days of absence working for Daenerys. You had prepared yourself to welcome him with a warm embrace and a long dialogue under the shades of trees. But…you would have never expected his first words to you after such a long time apart to be the following:
"It is best we keep it at that."
Your eyes widened as you heard Tyrion reject you. You were stunned for a moment. Then, you laughed. You thought it was a joke. But, he didn’t laugh—he didn’t even smile at you. Your amusement immediately vanished. You couldn’t understand why he would say something like that. Had you done something wrong ? What was going on ? He couldn’t…He wouldn’t possibly…But you looked him in the eyes and you gasped as you realised that he was serious. It was over. He was ending it. After everything you had been through, after everything…He was just ending it all.
"I am sorry." He added and your eyes watered.
"No. No. Don’t say that. You don’t get to say that." You seethed and felt bile rise up in your throat. You should have expected it, but you surprised yourself by being genuinely shocked by his sudden decision to set you aside.
"Y/N. Please…" He started before you interrupted him.
"I LOVE YOU !"
His mouth remained opened in shock by your words and you hoped that he would believe you and realise the humongous mistake he was making—but his answer was ten times worse than if he had just rejected you.
"…Yes. I know." He confessed before looking at you apologetically. "I am sorry. Goodbye, Y/N."
And with that, he turned away and walked away. Once he was out of sight, you dropped to the ground—hot tears running down your cheeks. Why ? You didn’t understand. Why did you have to fall in love with that man ? That absolutely brilliant, but cruel man. You thought he would be different, that he wouldn’t leave you, that he would be your forever and you would be his…
How wrong you were…
Sansa Stark:
Sansa doesn’t know when it happened exactly. The moment she had fallen in love with you. Perhaps at the very beginning. Before she had learnt about the hardships of life and womanhood. You had grown up together and she knew that you were the person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. You were the person she had begged her father to betroth her to. And you were the one willing to go far and wide to make her happy. When you were both together, only smiles remained on both of your faces.
But then…She had attracted King Joffrey’s attention and from that moment on, everything had changed for the worse. She had had to watch her father be executed and many people of their closed entourage.
But, not you. No. Joffrey had had much better planned for you. He had dragged you through King’s Landing—your wrists bound to his horse as you were forced to follow as rotten vegetables were thrown your way. You were then brought to a pile of wood and attached to a wooden pole—for all to witness. Joffrey had then set fire to the pile of wood you were standing on and as you were about to burn into ashes, your eyes sought out the ones of your beloved in the assembly.
When your eyes met hers, the only thought that crossed your mind was that you weren’t going to make it and that you wanted to see her beautiful smile one last time. You smiled at her through your tears and Sansa understood. She forced herself to smile back—even though all she wanted was to break down in tears and scream for the mercy she knew you would never receive from the Lannisters.
You were embraced by the flames right in front of her eyes.
From that very moment, all her smiles were cold and grim—without the person she had decided to share her heart with. Joffrey had asked her many times to smile at him the way she had smiled at her traitor of a fiancé/e. But, she was never capable of repeating it ever again. You were gone—the source of all her happiness and hopes—and she had no reason to smile anymore.
Or she would, once this whole place burnt to the ground.
Brienne of Tarth:
"Please. Stay. Do not leave me." Brienne begged you as she looked into your eyes. She was scared and horrified by the thought of losing you. You had been bitten by one of the white walkers and you could feel the blood slowly freeze up in your veins. You knew you were dying and you looked at Brienne with cold tears running down your cheeks.
"…I am sorry, Brienne. But I won’t be able to obey your command." You smiled sadly at her and she sobbed—her eyes holding all the sorrows of this world. You had been the only one to support her in her journey as a knight and even offer to be her esquire when none would agree to serve a female knight. But you had believed in her and learnt to love her. She held you closer and cried against your chest as you started stroking her hair soothingly.
"Live, Brienne. Live for me." You whispered to her.
It was too late for you. But, you wanted her to keep fighting until the very end. Your eyes then looked up to see Jaime standing behind her. He had a sorrowful expression on and you smiled at him before addressing him one command.
"Protect…each other."
You then closed your eyes and managed to stay long enough to hear Jaime answer you that he would. You smiled as life left your body. You wouldn’t be there to help or support her, but you were certain that Brienne would fight her hardest till the end—because that was who she was. Before your last breath, you felt warm lips meet your freezing ones. You knew whose they were. You tried to reciprocate the kiss, but darkness overwhelmed you and you knew that this was the end…
‘Goodbye, my love.’ You thought before all disappeared and you took your final breath in the arms of your beloved.
Jaime Lannister:
Jaime had just returned victorious from a battle and had rode faster than the wind to return to King’s Landing and tell you all about it. Only for his smile to drop as he finally reached the castle to see a funeral procession making its way towards the sea. He got off his horse and asked a nearby old woman who they had died. The old woman turned towards him with tearful eyes.
"Alas—my young Prince. Today is a sad day indeed. For we bury our dearest Lady/Lord Y/N."
Jaime was stunned and he couldn’t move for a few seconds. The old woman followed the procession and Jaime looked at them go—his eyes having lost their enthusiastic spark. He had waited and prayed to go home to see you again. He wanted to laugh with you and tell you all about his strange encounters and how he had managed to lead the army to glorious victory. He looked as your carefully wrapped body was carried through the streets of King’s Landing towards the water and laid down gently on a bed of flowers in a large wooden boat.
Jaime had followed as you were mourned by all of King’s Landing. You had been born a commoner, but had succeeded in becoming a valued member of Cersei’s court. He had met you at your beginnings as a member of the High Council. You had studied hard and supported all mocking jeers and taunts surrounding you to help your people. And now, they were the ones who were to see you go and bide you farewell.
He stared as your pretty little boat floated away.
His jaw twitched and he restrained tears as he saw the only person he had ever loved beside Cersei disappearing in the distance. He was the last one to leave the port and as people walked by to their homes around him—he heard multiple echoes of what had actually happened. You had died—killed by Cersei. She had waited until he was gone before sending the Mountain to kill you. And you had suffered. Days and days of tortured and screaming and tears left unheard which the entire of King’s Landing had been unaware of…And you had had to face your last moments alone and scared and in pain.
He didn’t even try to defend Cersei.
He knew she was capable of it. But what he didn’t understand was…why ?
And then, he returned to the castle and found Cersei in her room—arranging her hair. She looked completely unbothered and smiled as she saw Jaime’s reflection in her mirror.
"Jaime. You are back." She then dared to smile at him—as if she didn’t know. But, she knew. She knew. He knew she knew. His eyes were red-rimmed and he asked with a broken voice:
"Why ?"
Cersei didn’t even attempt to pretend that she didn’t know what he was referring to. She only kept a smile on and replied simply:
"Because they annoyed me. That’s why."
His eyes widened at his sister’s monstrous words…He hadn’t even had the chance to say goodbye.
Jon Snow:
Jon died and was reborn by the red witch.
But you ? They had killed you. You hadn’t been deemed important enough to be brought back to life and your body had been in such a pitiful state that even if he was to ask the red witch to bring you back—there wouldn’t be anything for your soul to return into. Jon had to wake up to the cruel realisation that he wouldn’t get to see you ever again.
You had stood by him. Until the very end.
You had both tried to fight off the rogue night watchers who had decided to get rid of Jon. You had fought valiantly with your sword withdrawn and blood spilling from both you and the other guards. You had fought like a lion. Refusing to back down and let them kill him.
You and him knew it was a lost battle.
But as he had felt his brothers’ daggers pierce him from all directions—all he could see was you. You had screamed as you were held down and forced to watch as he was robbed of his life first. Jon could have forgiven them for that. For killing him. But you ? The fact that they had forced you to watch before slashing your throat and feeding your body to the hounds…
That. He could never forgive.
It was your sword he used to cut the rope and hang all the traitors in one instant. They all squirmed and thrashed as they desperately tried to survive. Some even looked at Jon with pleading eyes—but found no mercy in his eyes. Once the last one had stopped moving, he took a deep breath and looked up at the dark and cloudy sky.
Daenerys:
"Please. Forgive me, my love." You whispered—tears rolling down your cheeks as you were forced to watch the woman you loved slowly die by your own hand. You had been by her side from the very beginning. You had fought alongside her to achieve her slow and glorious ascent to the top. You had watched and smiled as she had burnt down King’s Landing to the ground. You had hoped that this would finally be the end of the suffering and misery.
But…
You had then seen the people who had died. People who didn’t deserve it. People who had tried to protect and soothe their crying children as they were burnt alive and whose statues of ashes would remain forever interlocked. You brought a hand to your face at the stench of death and burning flesh. Then, you looked up at her. At your queen. Your khaleesi. Your heart. She was looking at the carnage with such intensity and satisfaction that it sent a shiver down your spine.
No…
You couldn’t. You couldn’t let her rule over Westeros—no matter how much your heart ached at the thought and how long you had fought for her to get there. You knew Ser Jorah would be disappointed in you and that all the people who had died to get her where she was would be cursing your name from their resting place for all of eternity…but not as loud as your own voice as you plunged that dagger into her heart.
The surprise in her eyes was the worst part. That…genuine shock. As if she really hadn’t expected it. You kissed her forehead. Oh…How you loved her. You loved her so much. But, even though your heart was shattered and your tears were true, you couldn’t let the world suffer through another Cersei—or worse. You simply couldn’t. And you hated yourself for it. You hated yourself for not seeing earlier what or who she was becoming and the pain it would cause you both. You hated yourself for not being able to protect her, or for not having the same blinding love than Ser Jorah had for her. Your eyes saw. And what they had seen was a world of ashes that she would rule over. And then, Littlefinger’s words came back to you.
"Chaos is a ladder…"
How right he was…but love was as much a ladder. And one who rarely led you up or where you wanted to be.
Ser Jorah:
During the final battle, just as sunrise painted the sky with touches of warm colours, you found yourself still standing. Your eyes met with Ser Jorah’s and you smiled at each other. You were alive. You walked forward to join him when your eyes caught sight of a white walker running towards him. You had but a few seconds to act. You ran forward to push Ser Jorah out of the way and got impaled by the spear instead. Ser Jorah’s eyes widened in shock and he gritted his teeth before cutting the white walker’s head off and catching you in his arms before you could hit the ground.
"No. My Lady/My Lord." He whispered sorrowfully and stroked your cheek—tears gathering in his eyes. He looked at your wound and the blood dripping down your chin.
But, you chuckled.
"Come on, Ser Jorah. Won’t you call me by my name ? There will never be another chance for me to hear it from your lips."
He wanted to deny your words and tell you that you were going to be alright. But, that would have been a lie. He gripped your hand and pressed his forehead against yours before asking—his heart hammering in his chest at the realisation that you had sacrificed yourself for him. Him who had never done anything to deserve it. Him who had rejected you time and time again. Him who had never been able to return the love you seemed to harbour towards him within your heart…
"Y/N. Why ?" He finally asked and you smiled up tenderly at him.
"You protected me." You replied with nothing but adoration in your eyes. "You respected me. I know your heart and eyes belong to Daenerys, but you stole mine—Ser Jorah. You made me happy. You always did what you thought was right and offered me someone to care about. And so, you swore to serve Daenerys. Unaware that I—myself—had made an oath of my own. To protect…you." You whispered as your eyes slowly closed in his arms—the place you cherished most. You nestled your face against him. Just for a moment, you would bask in his warmth…Ser Jorah had never pretended to love you or lied to you about his feelings towards the queen of dragons. But…you didn’t even resent him for it. He had offered you friendship and affection beyond anyone you had ever came across…If you were to die for someone—then you were fine with it being him.
You looked up and smiled before lifting your lips to his. If he was to be so kind as to grant a dying soul one last wish…He seemed to hesitate for a second before planting his lips against yours. And then, Ser Jorah felt a cruel warmth ignite within his very being. His eyes fluttered shut and he brought you closer…taking your first kiss and last breath in one instant…
Your eyes stayed closed and your arms dropped to the ground.
Ser Jorah opened his eyes and his heart clenched as he glanced down at the person who he had failed to protect and his sorrow only grew as he realised that he had also failed himself. For in your last breath, he had found something that he had denied you all this time, and his tears only turned even more bitter at the terrible reality that he could have had you. That he had you and your love. And had lost both because of his own blindness…
"Forgive me…my dear Lady/Lord Y/N."
#fandoms#imagine#fanfic#sandor clegane x reader#brienne x reader#petyr baelish x reader#petyr littlefinger baelish#oberyn x reader#oberyn martell x reader#tyrion lannister x reader#sansa stark x reader#jon snow x reader#jaime lannister x reader#daenerys x reader#ser jorah x reader#got
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Game of Thrones S5E03 "High Sparrow"
"Stop being a bystander. Do you hear me? Stop running."
#aidan gillen#petyr baelish#littlefinger#game of thrones#sansa stark#that forehead kiss though#and his hands#beautiful fucking hands#petyr x sansa#my gifs#mine
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Sansa/Petyr (GOT)
To get this straight, I do not ship them as Littlefinger's love for Sansa is hella toxic, but I admire Sansa growing from a child to a fearless warrior who is equal to the man who tricked her ever since she was a little girl that was left with nothing. Still, they share this weird dynamic one can't deny. Maybe in another world, things would be different.
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I'm obsessed with Sansa's character arc. She's been through so much, she practically went through hell and back, and all that she survived left a huge impact on her essence. She's a gem. A genius. I feel like she doesn't get nearly enough credit for her wit.
"I know what you want."
– "Do you?"
#game of thrones#got#game of thrones house stark#a song of ice and fire#littlefinger#sansa stark#petyr baelish#house stark#westeros#sansa & petyr#petyr littlefinger baelish#petyr x sansa#house of dragons#game of thrones edit#unpopular opinion? idk#lord baelish#catelyn stark#Youtube#winter is coming#game of thrones fandom#lord baelish is a sick lord#but also a sick dilf
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Honorable mention goes to Dickon Tarly (Dicksa) mostly cause that ship name is hilarious.
Remember; no right or wrong answers here, just go with your gut.
#game of thrones#sansa stark#GOT#Asoif#jon snow#tywin lannister#jaime lannister#tyrion lannister#margaery tyrell#god i am going to get SLAUGHTERED#sandor clegane#daenerys stormborn#petyr baelish#theon greyjoy#there is no right or wrong answer here#ngl i put tysan in cause the name made me giggle#i was this close to putting dicksa in#sansa x tyrion#sansa x jaime#sansa x theon#sansa x petyr#sansa x sandor#tywin x sansa#sansa x margaery#daenerys x sansa#jon x sansa#let the bloodbath commence
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