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yeniayofnymeria · 4 years ago

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Which Stark daughter needed special attention? Arya or Sansa?

After Ned and His Love For His Children, i wanted to discuss about Arya’s and Sansa’s KL life...

I have read that some Sansa fans often claim that Sansa was traumatized at KL and Ned was a terrible father as he preferred to constantly take care of Arya instead of this daughter in need of attention.

The main reason for Sansa's alleged trauma is often attributed to the Lady's death. So, who is the Stark girl who was traumatized and depressed after the Mycah and Lady incident? Is it Sansa or Arya?

For this we will do something very simple, we will read the books (please don't read the pirate book where the character names are replaced, I'm talking about real books).

Just after the incident ...

When she saw him, she cried out and began to sob.

Ned went to one knee and took her in his arms. She was shaking. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“I know,” he said. She felt so tiny in his arms, nothing but a scrawny little girl. It was hard to see how she had caused so much trouble. “Are you hurt?”

After Mycah incident, Arya escapes the Lannister men alone in the forest for 3 days. She's hungry, scared and doesn't know what to do. Imagine being the star of a witch hunt when you were 8 years old, she probably even thought she would be killed when caught.

She blinked at her sister, then at the young prince. “I don’t know,” she said tearfully, looking as though she wanted to bolt. “I don’t remember. Everything happened so fast, I didn’t see...”

“You rotten!” Arya shrieked. She flew at her sister like an arrow, knocking Sansa down to the ground, pummeling her. “Liar, liar, liar, liar.”

“Arya, stop it!” Ned shouted. Jory pulled her off her sister, kicking. Sansa was pale and shaking as Ned lifted her back to her feet. “Are you hurt?” he asked, but she was staring at Arya, and she did not seem to hear.

Sansa was brought into the hall by her father to verify Arya. There is no doubt that Sansa was scared by this incident. We know she told her father everything when things were just happening, but now Sansa doesn't want to be here and is in a difficult situation ... because she has a sister on the one hand and her fiance on the other. She has to make a choice between the two, and this is emotionally challenging for Sansa, of course, this why there is tears in her eyes. As a result, though, Sansa chooses Joffrey and lies. This causes the Lady's death, and the slander on Mycah and Arya is not cleared. Arya, too, is enraged by her sister's betrayal of her and attacks her.

That was when Sansa finally seemed to comprehend. Her eyes were frightened as they went to her father. “He doesn’t mean Lady, does he?” She saw the truth on his face. “No,” she said. “No, not Lady, Lady didn’t bite anybody, she’s good...”

“Lady wasn’t there,” Arya shouted angrily. “You leave her alone!”

“Stop them,” Sansa pleaded, “don’t let them do it, please, please, it wasn’t Lady, it was Nymeria, Arya did it, you can’t, it wasn’t Lady, don’t let them hurt Lady, I’l make her be good, I promise, I promise...” She started to cry.

The reaction of the two sisters for the Lady. Naturally, Sansa reacts more to the harm to Lady because Lady is her wolf and innocent. As a result, Mycah and Lady die. This situation is very bad and sad for both Stark daughters.

What happened after the Stark girls came to KL? How long has this situation left them permanently damaged?

Sansa’s eyes had grown wide as the plates. “A tourney,” she breathed. She was seated between Septa Mordane and Jeyne Poole, as far from Arya as she could get without drawing a reproach from Father. “Wil we be permitted to go, Father?”

“You know my feelings, Sansa. It seems I must arrange Robert’s games and pretend to be honored for his sake. That does not mean I must subject my daughters to this fol y.”

“Oh, please,” Sansa said. “I want to see.”

Our first view of the two sisters after Trident. After hearing the news of the King's Hand tournament, Sansa is excited and wants to participate. After all, it is one of the places where knights play a leading role in songs and stories ...

What about Arya?

“I don’t care about their stupid tourney,” Arya said. She knew Prince Joffrey would be there, and she hated Prince Joffrey.

Sansa lifted her head. “It will be a splendid event. You shan’t be wanted.”

Anger flashed across Father’s face. “Enough, Sansa. More of that and you will change my mind. I am weary unto death of this endless war you two are fighting. You are sisters. I expect you to behave like sisters, is that understood?”

Sansa bit her lip and nodded. Arya lowered her face to stare sullenly at her plate. She could feel tears stinging her eyes. She rubbed them away angrily, determined not to cry.

The only sound was the clatter of knives and forks. “Pray excuse me,” her father announced to the table. “I find I have smal appetite tonight.” He walked from the hall.

After he was gone, Sansa exchanged excited whispers with Jeyne Poole.

...

No one talked to Arya. She didn’t care. She liked it that way. She would have eaten her meals alone in her bedchamber if they let her. Sometimes they did, when Father had to dine with the king or some lord or the envoys from this place or that place. The rest of the time, they ate in his solar, just him and her and Sansa. That was when Arya missed her brothers most. She wanted to tease Bran and play with baby Rickon and have Robb smile at her. She wanted Jon to muss up her hair and cal her “little sister” and finish her sentences with her. But al of them were gone.

She had no one left but Sansa, and Sansa wouldn’t even talk to her unless Father made her.

...

This was the first time they had supped with the men since arriving in King’s Landing. Arya hated it. She hated the sounds of their voices now, the way they laughed, the stories they told. They’d been her friends, she’d felt safe around them, but now she knew that was a lie. They’d let the queen kill Lady, that was horrible enough, but then the Hound found Mycah. Jeyne Poole had told Arya that he’d cut him up in so many pieces that they’d given him back to the butcher in a bag, and at first the poor man had thought it was a pig they’d slaughtered. And no one had raised a voice or drawn a blade or anything, not Harwin who always talked so bold, or Alyn who was going to be a knight, or Jory who was captain of the guard. Not even her father.

“He was my friend,” Arya whispered into her plate, so low that no one could hear. Her ribs sat there untouched, grown cold now, a thin film of grease congealing beneath them on the plate. Arya looked at them and felt il .

She pushed away from the table.“Pray, where do you think you are going, young lady?” Septa Mordane asked.

“I’m not hungry.” Arya found it an effort to remember her courtesies. “May I be excused, please?” she recited stiffly.

...

When the bar was down, Arya finally felt safe enough to cry.

She went to the window seat and sat there, sniffling, hating them all, and herself most of all. It was al her fault, everything bad that had happened. Sansa said so, and Jeyne too.

Arya isn't as excited about the tournament and her KL life as Sansa, and unlike her older sister, she doesn't want to be here. Arya is feeling very lonely right now because she feels so alone after what happened, Sansa prefers not to talk to her unless she has to. At such moments, Arya misses her other siblings.

In general, we see Arya trying to isolate herself from other people, and we often read that she is on the brink of crying crisis. These are often signs of the onset of depression; low interest in activities, deep sadness, pessimism, desire to cry, not enjoying anything, guilt, desire to be with loved ones again, loss of appetite ... In short, we see that Arya is in a very bad emotional situation.

Arya desperately wanted to explain, to make him see. “I was trying to learn, but...” Her eyes filled with tears. “I asked Mycah to practice with me.” The grief came on her al at once. She turned away, shaking. “I asked him,” she cried. “It was my fault, it was me...”

Suddenly her father’s arms were around her. He held her gently as she turned to him and sobbed against his chest. “No, sweet one,” he murmured. “Grieve for your friend, but never blame yourself. You did not kil the butcher’s boy. That murder lies at the Hound’s door, him and the cruel woman he serves.”

“I hate them,” Arya confided, red-faced, sniffling. “The Hound and the queen and the king and Prince Joffrey. I hate al of them. Joffrey lied, it wasn’t the way he said. I hate Sansa too. She did remember, she just lied so Joffrey would like her.”

...

“Let me tel you something about wolves, child. When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives. Summer is the time for squabbles. In winter, we must protect one another, keep each other warm, share our strengths. So if you must hate, Arya, hate those who would truly do us harm. Septa Mordane is a good woman, and Sansa... Sansa is your sister. You may be as different as the sun and the moon, but the same blood flows through both your hearts. You need her, as she needs you... and I need both of you, gods help me.”

He sounded so tired that it made Arya sad. “I don’t hate Sansa,” she told him. “Not truly.” It was only half a lie.

“I do not mean to frighten you, but neither will I lie to you. We have come to a dark dangerous place, child. This is not Winterfel . We have enemies who mean us ill. We cannot fight a war among ourselves. This willfulness of yours, the running off, the angry words, the disobedience... at home, these were only the summer games of a child. Here and now, with winter soon upon us, that is a different matter. It is time to begin growing up.”

“I will,” Arya vowed. She had never loved him so much as she did in that instant. “I can be strong too. I can be as strong as Robb.”

He held Needle out to her, hilt first. “Here.. ”

She looked at the sword with wonder in her eyes. For a moment she was afraid to touch it, afraid that if she reached for it it would be snatched away again, but then her father said, “Go on, it’s yours,” and she took it in her hand.

“I can keep it?” she said. “For true?”

“For true.” He smiled. “If I took it away, no doubt I’d find a morningstar hidden under your pillow within the fortnight. Try not to stab your sister, whatever the provocation.”

“I won’t. I promise.” Arya clutched Needle tightly to her chest as her father took his leave.

The next morning, as they broke their fast, she apologized to Septa Mordane and asked for her pardon. The septa peered at her suspiciously, but Father nodded.

Arya was on the verge of depression after a traumatic event as I mentioned above during her early days in KL. She was emotionally damaged. The result was that her friend was murdered terribly, the Lady was killed despite her innocence, and she had to drive Nymeria away from her, and Sansa never spoke properly to Arya again. It wouldn't be entirely wrong to say that Sansa and Jeyne also fed Arya's depression. They were constantly blaming Arya for everything that was going on, and Arya begins to blame herself on everything because she was emotionally traumatized.

She only gets out of this situation after her father realizes and speaks to her... Ned also allows Arya to take sword lessons to help her recover.

During this time, Sansa ...

Sansa rode to the Hand’s tourney with Septa Mordane and Jeyne Poole, in a litter with curtains of yellow silk so fine she could see right through them. They turned the whole world gold. Beyond the city walls, a hundred pavilions had been raised beside the river, and the common folk came out in the thousands to watch the games. The splendor of it al took Sansa’s breath away; the shining armor, the great chargers caparisoned in silver and gold, the shouts of the crowd, the banners snapping in the wind... and the knights themselves, the knights most of all.

“It is better than the songs,” she whispered when they found the places that her father had promised her, among the high lords and ladies. Sansa was dressed beautiful y that day, in a green gown that brought out the auburn of her hair, and she knew they were looking at her and smiling.

Sansa fulfills one of her dreams and gets the chance to watch the knights and heroes in the stories she heard. So happy and excited.

When Prince Joffrey seated himself to her right, she felt her throat tighten. He had not spoken a word to her since the awful thing had happened, and she had not dared to speak to him. At first she thought she hated him for what they’d done to Lady, but after Sansa had wept her eyes dry, she told herself that it had not been Joffrey’s doing, not truly. The queen had done it; she was the one to hate, her and Arya. Nothing bad would have happened except for Arya.

She could not hate Joffrey tonight. He was too beautiful to hate.

Do I have to make a special comment for this, I don't know. We have no doubt that Sansa felt sorry and cried for what happened and she was very sad that day too, and she even hated Cersei for a while and thought to hate Joffrey too, but then (she gave up because he was so beautiful) she was just hated Arya. She decided to hate her, it was all her fault. This is a typical mechanism of denial and reflection ... Actually the main culprits are Joffrey and Cersei, but the people Sansa preferred to blame are Arya and Mycah.

The servants kept the cups filled all night, yet afterward Sansa could not recall ever tasting the wine. She needed no wine. She was drunk on the magic of the night, giddy with glamour, swept away by beauties she had dreamt of al her life and never dared hope to know. Singers sat before the king’s pavilion, filling the dusk with music. A juggler kept a cascade of burning clubs spinning through the air. The king’s own fool, the pie-faced simpleton called Moon Boy, danced about on stilts, al in motley, making mock of everyone with such deft cruelty that Sansa wondered if he was simple after al . Even Septa Mordane was helpless before him; when he sang his little song about the High Septon, she laughed so hard she spilled wine on herself.

And Joffrey was the soul of courtesy. He talked to Sansa all night, showering her with compliments, making her laugh, sharing little bits of court gossip, explaining Moon Boy’s japes.

Sansa was so captivated that she quite forgot all her courtesies and ignored Septa Mordane, seated to her left.

This last quote reveals Sansa's mental state more clearly. His situation is fine, he is happy, excited, living in his dreams ... he has forgotten everything and everyone. In short, Sansa does not have a traumatic situation, emotionally, like Arya, she has not received any long-term damage.

Sansa didn't care for Mycah anyway, so she never thinks of him, and Lady ... cried a lot for her but now she is happy. Do not misunderstanding, there is no one who says that Sansa should live in grief forever, of course she has to leave this bad incident behind and look forward, but if there are claims like she was traumatized because of the Lady, depressed because of her, then we need to see Sansa is always in sorrow, pessimistic and constantly crying. We did not see. Sansa seems to have gotten through all that quickly, my KL is quickly caught up in her magical world and floating in her dreams ...

As a result, we saw that the two Stark girls were saddened, cried and grieved at the time of the incident, but it is not Sansa, who suffer trauma for a long time, it's Arya. So it is natural for Ned to be more concerned with the traumatized Arya, because she needs more special attention. After talking to Arya, Arya's situation quickly improves, and Ned does not need to pay special attention after that. How does that make Ned a terrible father? We are talking about a father who comes to the aid of his daughters when needed.

Please don't make unfair criticism about Ned. No doubt Ned had mistakes like everyone else, but he was a good father who loved his children wholeheartedly and took care of them as much as he could, just as Cat was a good mother, despite her faults.

Like Sansa, stop blaming everyone for everything except Sansa. Thank you.

#asoiaf #grrmartin #Arya Stark #ned stark #Sansa Stark #anti sansa stans #a game of thrones #anti arya stark stans

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lapixie · 5 years ago

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Ten Years Later Chapter 2

Part 1

Chapter 2

Tony doesn’t go right to sleep. Instead he goes online, and he looks up everything! He learns about the last ten years the best way there is, by looking up all the gossip and news. He learns that they still have not perfected the flying car, but they did shoot one into space. What the fuck Elon? Simpsons was still playing. Supernatural went away, then came right back. They were on season 22 now. Destiel was still not a thing.

Then he looked up his friends and family. Holy shit! Peter was gay...or well...bi...maybe pan? Whatever he was, he wasn’t straight. And the world knew that he was Spiderman? He didn’t go too deep into that, figured it would be best for him to wait for the kid to tell him everything about that. And actually, maybe it would be better for the rest of them to be the ones to give updates on their lives also. He finally falls asleep as the sun was coming up.

The next morning, everyone woke up to the smell of bacon, sausage, eggs, home fries and pancakes. Walking into the kitchen, they were all surprised to see Tony at the stove.

“Morning Mr. Stark, I didn’t know you could cook?” Peter asked, while adorably running his hands through his hair.

“Breakfast, the most important meal of the day!” He blustered, trying not to stare at Peters abs peeking out from where his t-shirt was rising up.

Pepper laughed out loud, saying “What he means is; Breakfast, you cook it for the girl you’re about to kick out so there’s no hard feelings!”

“Hey, no slander Pep! I did it to the boys too!”

Peter choked on his coffee he had just taken a sip of, sputtering “Boys? Mr. Stark, I didn’t know you swung that way…?”

“Yeah, no sense being a playboy if you’re gonna limit yourself to only half the population!”

“Oh.”

“Does it bother you? I didn’t think it would, the internet is full of photos of you with other people. Including Flash?! What the hell kid? Isn’t he the one who bullied you for so long?”

“People change Mr. Stark. The snap changed a lot of people. Some for the better, some for the worse. Flash was for the better. Also, it’s been a while since I’ve been a kid.”

Tony felt his eyes slowly sliding down Peter’s body, but snapped them quickly back up to meet his eyes.

“Yeah. Yeah. Well, if you’re not gonna answer to kid anymore, you better call me Tony.”

With a hitch in his breath, Peter answered “Sure Mr….Tony. Might take some time to get used to though.”

They joined Pepper, Happy and Rhodey at the table, where the others had already started eating. They took turns filling him in on the people that had survived the snap.

“What?!” he yelled, “Thor got fat?!” He couldn’t help but chuckle, thinking of the handsome alien god with a belly of pudge. Not that there was anything wrong with that.

“Tony,” Peter gave him a stern look “It’s not funny. His whole planet was destroyed, then Thanos killed most of the survivors, including his brother, then his snap decimated what was left. We’re lucky he didn’t kill himself! Besides, he’s still badass and could beat you one handed.”

“Kid!” He cried, clutching at his chest. “My heart! I thought you loved me!”

“I do love you Mr. Stark. Which is why I would never lie to you. Thor would kick your ass.” He deadpanned.

“Hey, what happened to Tony?!”

“What happened to not calling me kid?”

“Touche. Moving on…so you went to Europe and met Quentin Beck?”

“Yeah, I messed up. I trusted him. I was in a really bad place. You, May, and Ned had all just been dusted. SHEILD was pressuring me to be Spiderman more than I was willing to at the time. I just wanted a vacation, ya know? But even that had some world ending, cataclysmic happening. By the time we thought we were done with all that, I was just ready to be me. Just Peter. So I gave Beck EDITH. The last thing you had trusted me with, and I just gave it away…”

Seeing Peter’s face so contorted with guilt and grief was breaking Tony’s heart. He couldn’t believe that he had had a hand in one of the worst times of his life. “Oh, kid, I’m so sorry. I never meant for you to handle that responsibility so young!”

With a quirk of a smile, Peter replied “It’s okay. I made it right. It was really bad for awhile though. Mysterio told everyone that I was Spiderman, at the same time he told them all that I was a murdering psychopath. With video evidence. Long story. SHEILD stepped in and proved me innocent, but I had already been outed. It was crazy for awhile. I was dating MJ and scared for her. The bad guys were actually the least of the problems. It was the paparazzi. They wouldn’t leave us alone! Plus, I was still having panic attacks from being hit by the train.”

“Excuse me?! What by the what now?!”

“Yeah, Mysterio was messing with my mind. Anyway, Everything finally started getting better, everything calmed down. Me and MJ decided we were better off as friends after a couple of years. I had my great gay awakening. Dated Flash for about a year, we were better off as friends too. And that’s about it for me. Oh, and while searching for a way to reverse the snap, I found a couple of cures, including one that let’s Bruce choose when he wants to Hulk out, and lets him keep his mind. Almost like an animagus mixed with wolfsbane potion? No? It’s a Harry Potter thing.”

“Wow. That’s...a lot. Pep, how about you? Tell me your last ten years have been a bit...tamer?”

“Well, I had a baby, then another, ran away to Paris to get married to Happy. It didn’t work out, but we’re still great friends.”

“What? Seriously?” That was...shocking to say the least. He always thought Happy was gay. And he didn’t mean in the...haha...happy way.

Pepper laughed. “No, but your face is priceless.” She said while rolling her eyes. “Actually, most of my time has been spent putting out fires started by Tony Jr. over here.” She pointed over at Peter.

“Hey!” Peter cried, with a hand over his heart, a fake wounded expression on his face. “I resent that! I’m much worse than him!”

Pepper gave a little half-smile, half-laugh that Tony recognized from how she used to look at him. Just yesterday for him, but apparently an entire decade for her. It was finally starting to sink in. He missed ten years of their lives. He missed seeing Peter grow up. Happy and Rhodey were grey. Pepper had wrinkles. They had all continued living their lives. Without him. And he couldn’t even be mad. He was gone! They couldn’t exactly pause time to wait for someone to get him back.

“Mr…Tony, are you okay?” Peter sounded worried. He couldn’t do that to the kid, not after everything he went through with EDITH. Because of him.

Shaking his head, like it could remove the thoughts from his brain, Tony smiled and replied “Yeah, Pete, I’m fine. Just jet lagged. That’s a thing, right? If you can get jet lagged from changing time zones, imagine my jet lag changing decades!”

Everyone laughed, just as he meant them to.

“So Happy, honeybear, tell me, did you find a mad passionate love for each other in the ten years I was gone?”

Happy and Rhodey rolled their eyes simultaneously, which just caused Tony to laugh more.

“See?! You’re already in sync!”

“Tony, shut up. I’m actually still happily single, and Happy is not so happily single.”

Happy elbowed Rhodey in the side, mumbling that he was fine.

“Happy, who broke your heart? Who do I need to reign the might of Tony Stark down on?” Tony was joking, but he was also totally serious.

“Careful boss, you reign your might, you’ll be taking on a certain Spiderman!” Happy chuckled, picturing this.

Tony felt something cold in his chest. Happy and Peter? No. Peter was his! Well, not his, his, but his protege!

Peter was watching Tony, as if he was expecting him to laugh and say something like he could take him, but instead Tony just got real quiet.

“Don’t worry Tony, even if you went after Aunt May, I doubt I’d have to do anything! She’d tear you apart all by herself!” He would probably deny it to his dying day, but Peter totally giggled at that.

Tony’s head snapped up from where it had started to droop towards his chest, his eyes meeting Peters.

“Aunt May? I thought he meant ...so it wasn’t you?” The relief Tony felt was immense. And completely inappropriate. It was none of his business who Peter dated. He didn’t even know the kid any more. Case in point, not a kid!

Peter and Happy started laughing uproariously, so hard he thought they may just fall over.

“Me and the kid?! Are you out of your mind? He just got over his annoying never stop talking stage. And he relapses! Oh God, kill me if I ever even think about it! Also, uh, I’m straight, so…” Happy shrugged, like “what are you gonna do”?

“Yeah, Tony, no offense to Happy, but he’s not my type. If I wanted to be with someone who rolled their eyes and stopped listening anytime I was talking, I would have stayed with Flash.”

His eyes were warm as he said this though, like it was fond memories.

“Well Pete, if they don’t listen to you, that’s their stupidity. You were already one of the smartest people I knew, and you were a teenager at the time.”

Remembering the kid he was, looking at who he was now, made him sad. He missed so much of Peter’s life.

“Thanks Tony. Wish more people felt that way.” Peter was smiling while he said it though, so he could tell he wasn’t really upset.

“Okay well, for me it’s been less than 24 hours since you saw me last, so not much has changed.”

As they cleaned up from breakfast, Tony couldn’t help staring at Peter. When he raised his arms to put dishes in the cupboard and his abs showed under his shirt. When he bent over to put the pans away, and he showed off his amazing ass. Tony could feel himself getting hard. He had to nip this in the bud.

“Okay Pete, I think I might go get reaquainted with the lab. Dum E, Butterfingers, and U must be missing me. And Friday has been suspiciously quiet.”

“It’s not suspicious boss! I’ve just been letting you get re-acclimated. I was being nice! Last time I do that!” For an AI, it was shocking how much emotion you could hear in her voice. She was the most sarcastic, loving, AI in the world.

“Friday! Baby! I’ve missed you!” Tony yelled with a big grin on his face.

“No you didn’t boss. It’s been less than a day for you. But I appreciate the sentiment.” She drawled. “Now, come, your kids have missed you.”

With that, the elevator opened and sat waiting for Tony.

“Guess that’s my queue. Later Underoos!” He yelled, scurrying to the elevator, with his hands in a peace sign, hearing Peter yelling that he wasn’t Underoos anymore in the background. “You’ll always be my Underoos!” He called back with a grin. Man, it felt good to be back!

@stxrker-fan-xx

#starker #starker fic #tony x peter #peter x tony #au #ten years later

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petersmparker · 5 years ago

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Clutch pt 7 (Peter Parker x Reader)

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: This is the first time Peter has spoken to you since he’d kissed you in the alley, and he can’t help but be surprised.

Word Count: 1868

A/N: woo! long time coming, huh? thanks to everyone following this series for their patience! we’re one week into the semester and college is already beating me into submission. did someone say “five classes that assign almost 50 pages of reading due for every class”?? Love you all for sticking w me!!! I’ll promise the next one will be out faster- it’s already written for editing!! ps, tumblr literally won’t allow a cut, so I’m sorry to anyone who has to scroll past this

INTRO PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4 PART 5 PART 6 PART 7 PART 8

It's nearly a week until Peter sees you again due to careful avoidance in the halls and an unfortunate streak of petty crime a distance from your usual routes. Even despite the heated kiss that had been exchanged and his decision to share with you the name behind Spider-Man, he worries that it would be unwise to approach you outside of the suit, and the sight of you in school makes his heart do flips that leave him flustered and distracted for an admittedly embarrassing amount of time.

Because of this, the week passes with some anxiety and nerves. Peter isn't exactly sure how to make odds or ends of what had occurred between you. The kiss had been wonderful- something he had dreamed of without the nerve to actually hope for it. Moreover, it was his first. He wondered if it was yours too, or if you minded that it was him.

Well. Not him, he supposed. Spider-Man. He knew that you felt nothing for him personally, but rather his superhero alter ego. You knew very little about him, after all, besides his name. There wasn’t much he’s been able to share. But if you did, Peter wondered, would you see something in him worth caring about?

Five days in, as Peter goes through the motions of dinner, he fights the urge to admit to May what had occurred. To just talk about it, maybe get some advice. The thoughts rattle in his brain nonstop, keeping him in a near-constant state of “What now?”. But he meets her eye over her container of takeout as she digs a piece of broccoli out from under her rice, and can’t seem to do it. Not yet. Not until things are clearer.

As he climbs into bed, he once again replays the kiss in his mind for the millionth time, hoping to hell that his fixation isn’t breeding false hope.

The next day, Peter decides to swing through the street where his fight had occurred to survey the damage repair. It was something he, unfortunately, was becoming accustomed to doing after putting himself on the radar of higher level criminals the year before. The guilt always struck him when he viewed a shattered glass storefront or a torn apart corner of a building. No matter how hard he tried, sometimes the damage control got away from him.

Seeing the closed-up mini mart is just like every other time, and it feels terrible.

Despite that, the guilty thoughts circling Peter's brain come to a dead stop the moment he lays eyes on you again. Overcoming them was nervousness. Embarrassment, even, as he recalled just how much you'd been at the center of his mind for the past week.

You’re walking along the far side of the street, gazing up at what is left of the shop. The busted-out window is covered in several layers of plastic, wood planks, and cardboard. While the police tape is long gone, the word CLOSED is clearly displayed on the front door- as if the mess of a window isn’t enough of a clue.

As Peter watches, you move on toward a telephone pole to read a sheet of paper that had been stapled to it. After a few moments, you tear it off and stride, agitatedly, in the direction of an alley that he knows all too well. For a brief second Peter wants to assume that you’ll just walk past it. Surely you aren't going to return to The Place It Happened and cause the impending conversation to be even more awkward than it was already going to be.

You turned into the alley, and with a sigh, Peter jumps from the roof he had been perched upon to meet you there. He touches down next to you, startling you only slightly when he attempts to casually say hello and reach for the flyer in your hand.

"Jesus," you gasp, yanking the paper away from him in your exasperated surprise, "Part of me had a feeling you'd show up, but I still wasn't prepared. Maybe you need a bell around your neck."

Peter accepts the now-offered flyer and tries not to shiver when you gently brush a finger against his throat for emphasis. "Ah, well," he starts, somewhat awkwardly, "That might ruin the element of surprise a bit, you know? The bad guys would hear me. Mr. Stark might have to fire me. And in this economy?"

"Spider-Man gets paid?" You ask, bewildered.

"God, no," he says quickly, "This suit is payment enough. And he gave me all this nice stuff I couldn't afford, I- I'd never ask for more."

With a gentle laugh, you place a hand on his arm. "You're a good guy. Really. It makes the shit this reporter is spreading all the more ridiculous," you say with finality, gesturing toward the flyer he still hadn't read.

Pictured was Spider-Man in the midst of his criminal sendoff. Shards of glass are flying across the whole photograph, and the look on the man’s face is one of complete terror. The caption reads, SPIDERMAN: HERO? OR PUBLIC MENACE?

"Oh," Peter says, dejectedly, "I can't really argue that, can I?"

In a quick movement, you rip the flyer out of his hands, crumple it, and toss it toward the open lid of the nearest dumpster.

"Spider-Man," you say firmly, commanding him to hear you, to listen, and Peter’s surprised by the seriousness of your tone.

Your voice lowers in volume when you say, "Peter," and take his hands in your own, and he nearly melts.

"Everything you do is for the good of others. You've saved people's lives before. Put your own in danger to do it. That flyer is slander. Nothing more. No one in their right mind will believe this, and you, you damn intelligent boy, you should know better than to buy into it, either."

"The damage-" Peter starts, before you raise a hand over the mouth area of his mask.

"Nothing was destroyed, Peter. The infrastructure is sound. It was a single window. It can be replaced. Lives can't be replaced,” you assert, squeezing your eyes shut tight when you continue to say, “With the way I was reacting, I- I probably would have been shot. You stopped that from happening.”

"But. . ." he starts, muffled against your hand, before he realizes that he doesn’t know what to say.

Your other hand comes up so that you can gently hold the sides of his face. The touch sends shivers up Peter’s spine. He’s sure you can feel it when it shakes him, and he’d be embarrassed if he weren’t so entranced by your eyes now that they’ve reopened. You stare into the eyes of his mask, almost as if you can actually see his face.

Your voice fills with what Peter thinks is gratitude when you say, "I would be dead if it weren't for you."

A tension-filled moment passes in which he reels, mind flitting to a hundred different places, before it lands on a terrible thought.

"Is that why you were willing to kiss me?" Peter asks, tentatively.

Surprised, your hands fall away for a brief second, before coming back, holding him tighter than before. "No," you say, definitively, "I would have kissed back no matter what you had done. I'm glad you gave me the opportunity."

With your words, the anxiety slips away from Peter all at once. The fear of rejection is sapped out of him, the concern that he had overstepped his boundaries, the sinking feeling he got every time he thought about how he left afterward. He is left with a balloon in his chest inflating too quickly. It fills with happiness, relief, and affection. It takes his breath away.

In his joy, Peter forgets who he is. Not unlike the first time, he surges forward, arms wrapping around your lower back to pull you forward. He leans in to kiss you, and realizes once he meets your mouth with his own that he's Spider-Man. Not Peter. The mask is still on. His embarrassment is horrific, and had you not burst into delighted laughter Peter may have left the country then and there.

"That- that was so dumb," he says, awkwardly, reaching up to hide his face as if the mask didn't always hide his blush, "I'm sorry. That was- oh man."

You pull him down to plant a kiss on his cheek, paying no mind to the mask that has thwarted his attempt at affection. "This is why," you explain, stopping to press a second quick kiss to the mouth of his mask, "You ask if I kissed back because you saved me? I kissed back because in the little time I've known you, you've been funny. And you've been kind, and brave. What more could I have done, besides feel something for you?"

Peter calms slowly, the heat of embarrassment being replaced by a different kind of warmth. A lovely, comfortable one. The urge to tell you who he really is- more than just his name- bowls him over like a tidal wave, potential ramifications be damned. He opens his mouth to do so when a voice at the entrance of the alley says, "Hey, it's Spider-Man!"

Peter turns to see someone who appears to have stumbled upon the alley at the worst possible time. While you hadn't heard them speak, his hearing is far better. You don’t turn until after he’s faced the unwelcome arrival.

Luckily, thinks Peter as he attempts to emote as much disdain as possible without moving, it's just you. Ned waves at the scene you’ve made in the alleyway, unaware of the context of your meeting or the true presence of you in his life.

"Hello there," he adds, when neither of you respond. His tone implies that he's picked up on something, but Peter isn't sure what that is.

"Uh, hello," Peter answers, unsure of what to say.

Ned looks between the two of you slowly. "Is... everything okay?" He asks, seemingly unaware of how odd it is for a civilian to ask if Spider-Man is alright, whether or not he secretly knows him personally.

His eyes flick downward to your hands, still cupping Peter’s jaw.

"Yes!" Peter exclaims, backing away from you, "Everything is fine! In fact, I should probably be going, now that everything is fine."

"Oh?" His best friend questions in response.

"Absolutely," you say slowly, picking up on Peter’s tone.

Ned nods, but his expression clearly states that he is both skeptical and confused. In a moment of eye contact, Peter realizes that you know there's something going on, too. Maybe even that the person who has stumbled upon you and him knows something. The prospect of it is vaguely terrifying. He can feel you continue to stare at him long after he’s turned back to Ned, searching for the words to say, and is sure that you’re searching his body language and the squint of his eyepieces for answers. His posture falls from rigid to defeated.

Peter turns to look back at you, reaching toward you to grab your hand. He stops halfway, thinking better of the action before he’s spoken to Ned. You almost reach out to meet it, but you stop too, centimeters away.

"I have to go," he says, voice laced with apologies and explanations he can’t fully give to you right now, "I'll... I'll see you. I'm sorry."

You smile reassuringly. "See you, Spider-Man."

After a long moment, he turns away. After nodding toward Ned, still watching from the end of the alleyway, he takes a huge leap into the air and swings away. Maybe he’s mistaken, but he’s sure that he can hear Ned offer a quick, I guess I’ll see you later? to you before he runs off.

Tag list:

@undiadeestos @moonstruckholland @deathofthethrones @souvenirsvisuels

@nedthegay @legendarydazekitten @secretlittlewonders @jackiehollanderr @disgustangg

#peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fluff #peter parker series #peter parker x reader #peter parkerxreader #peter parker reader insert #peter parker self insert

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theherothechampiontheinquisitor · 5 years ago

Text

Unto the Breach

Pairing: Eventual Pepperony, past Tony/May

Rated G

Iron Dad galore

Summary: At the age of 16 Tony Stark became a father. He also gave up his claim as the Stark heir and cut off all ties to that life to raise his son on his own. 15 years later his past finally begins to catch up to him and he has to set aside his pride and open his life back up to his parents in order for his son to have the life he deserves.

A Gilmore Girls AU

Notes: I know someone recently did something similar but this has been languishing in my drafts and I really loved it and wanted to post it so here it is. Not everything will be accurate to the show and I kinda made May Peter’s mom because I was watching Only You when I wrote this and yeah, they made a cute couple. lol Don’t judge.

Read it on AO3

------------------- The front door of “Pepper’s” burst open, nearly taking the bell off as it rattled and jingled the arrival of the only customer who could make an entrance like that. A cool breeze blew in behind Tony Stark, signaling what would soon be the start of crisp fall mornings, as he stumbled like a zombie towards the front counter, desperately clutching a well worn travel mug in his hands.

“Pepper, light of my life. Pepper, please you have to help me. I need you.”

He could feel Pepper roll her eyes as she moved around behind the counter, sizing him up as he collapsed onto the first empty stool.

“How much have you had today, Tony?” She raised her eyebrow at him and dared him to lie to her.

“Erm, this will be my first of the day…” It was mostly true. Her stare pierced down to his very soul and he squirmed awkwardly, the squeaks of the stool echoing beneath him. “Okay, the first of a normal person’s morning.”

“And how many before that?”

“Three but who’s counting? You know yours is the best anyways.”

Pepper’s coffee couldn’t be beat. It made every other brew taste like dirty dish water in comparison to the rich, smooth blend that was sitting in a pot just barely out of his reach. It was tatamount to torture to be this close and his cup still so empty.

Pepper’s stern face came back to his vision as she leaned down towards him, hands gripping the counter. “You have a problem Tony.”

He smiled what he hoped was a charming smile. “My problem is this empty mug, Pep.”

She just shook her head in despair and sighed. “Say it with me Tony…”

“I am addicted to coffee,” they both spoke at the same time, Tony’s voice slightly manic over Pepper’s monotone. She did this to him on purpose, always on the days that he needed his fix the worst. Tantamount to torture, damn it.

“There! I've admitted it. My shame is out there for all to know.”

She gazed into his eyes for a long time, before cracking a real smile, finally satisfied that she had made him suffer enough. Pepper swiftly turned back around and grabbed the coffee pot returning to slowly fill up his cup.

“And I am sadly your enabler.”

Tony inhaled the steaming brew as his cup filled and immediately took a large gulp, not caring how hot it was. He had developed an immunity to hot coffee by now. The groan it elicited could have put Meg Ryan to shame.

“You’re a godsend Pep and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Pepper just shook her head and went back to what she was doing before he burst through the door. Over her shoulder she asked, “Where’s Pete?”

“Oh, you know,” he began, sneaking a blueberry muffin from the display in front of him. “He fell behind on my quest for coffee. Decisions had to be made, casualties were endured.”

It was that precise moment the door blew open again and the younger Stark entered looking frazzled. He wiped a bead of sweat from his brow, coming up to the counter and collapsing his books next to Tony. Tony jumped reflexively and nearly spilled the precious brown liquid all over his shirt.

“Man, for someone with short legs I’ll never get over how fast you can travel when properly motivated!” he exclaimed and Tony just shrugged, picking a couple of pieces from the muffin and sliding the rest down to Peter.

“Hey, we have the same genes so I would watch it if I were you.”

“Yeah, but I at least have the benefit of a few more years of growing to do.”

Tony frowned and nudged Peter’s shoulder. He took another sip of coffee as he evaluated the boy. “You’re being a terror this morning, let me help you out. Coffee?”

Peter nodded desperately. “Coffee.”

Tony waved Pepper over, taking Peter’s Spiderman mug, a gag gift from last christmas, and holding it out beggingly before him. He jutted his bottom lip out and giving the red head what he hoped was his most pitiful look.

“Please ma’am, may I have some more?”

“Don't go on tour anytime soon, your Oliver Twist is terrible,” she deadpanned.

“So, I’ve heard. Please, it’s for Pete. He’s a growing boy.”

"You know coffee actually stunts your growth right?"

"Lies and slander, probably made up by tea drinkers." Tony shuddered in his seat for dramatic effect.

Pepper eyed him up and down. "Sure about that one? You seem to be missing a few inches."

Tony scoffed. "C'mon Pep, stop browbeating me and do it for the boy."

Pepper looked between the pair and Peter had joined Tony in giving his best wounded puppy look. The pair made a striking picture, their features mirroring the other so perfectly, one would be hard pressed to deny their relation. Looking at Peter especially though, Pepper felt that same protective urge stir inside her that she had when he was still just a child, those big doe eyes pleading for another sweet. She relented, as she always did, filling his mug to the top.

Tony motioned to his now empty mug with a grin but she just gave him a pointed stare and put the pot back.

“Sorry, no refills to coffee moochers.”

“Aw, Pep don’t be like that. Just put it on my tab.”

“You don’t have a tab, Tony.”

“Well, I should.”

“Forget about it, you’re lucky you got what you did. I can’t enable you any further this morning.”

“This is oppression!”

Peter watched the exchange with a smile. It was old hat by now, the start of a thousand mornings for the Stark men.

“Thank you, Ms. Potts!” he called out to her and took a large drink from his own mug, Tony looking on enviously. Peter just ignored him and whipped out his cell phone, tapping a few buttons and bringing up a text thread.

“So, check it out, I was texting Ned this morning and he said that the acceptance packets for Midtown were supposed to be sent out this week. We could be getting them as soon as friday! And I was looking at the uniforms online again and they’re really not that bad. I mean I can deal with the coats and ties for a bit if it means getting to take robotics…”

He eagerly shoved the phone into Tony’s face, scrolling through the stock photos of the school uniforms that they had already perused through a million times at home. His excitement was contagious and Tony smiled along with him and listened as he described the different classes that he was hoping to take.

They had applied for the late fall term having completely missed the early fall registration deadline because Tony had stayed up all night on an inventing bender and passed out around six am, totally blowing through the morning alarm. Peter was a notorious heavy sleeper too, so neither stirred until well after the window for registration had closed. Tony felt awful but Peter had taken it all in stride.

The phone suddenly started buzzing in Peter’s hand, the Imperial March from Star Wars blaring across the small cafe making customers heads pop up and search out the cause of the disruption. Peter panicked and immediately declined the call from Ned, shooting him a quick text that he’d call him later, but it was too late and Pepper had already marched her way over to where he sat and eyed the phone he hastily tried to pocket.

“Peter, c’mon. Do you see the sign?” she asked turning around and pointing to the sign that boldly stated the cell phone free zone.

“Oh, I know, sorry Ms. Potts! I was showing him the uniforms for Midtown and then Ned called, but I told him I’d call him back after I leave,” he started rambling nervously but Pepper cut him off with a wave as Tony snickered in the background.

“Don’t worry about it, just remember for next time.”

“Oh, of course,” he smiled so earnestly it was hard to even feign annoyance.

“So, Midtown,” Pepper began, settling back between the pair, pretending to wipe down the already clean countertops. “Did you get in finally?”

“We don’t know yet. Should be finding out this week. If it’s a small envelope we’re doomed, but a big envelope and you’ll be looking at Midtown class of 2020.”

“Well, I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you,” she smiled and squeezed his hand affectionately. “You make it and I’ll make you that pie you always harass me to make out of season.”

Tony blanched. Pepper didn’t make concessions to anyone, even as doe eyed and innocent as Pete. “Um, okay, how come he gets the special treatment?”

“He’s more polite than you.”

“I resent that remark.”

“I can’t help the truth,” she shrugged and and headed to the other end of the bar to wait on a pair of blondes that walked in, looking very lost and out of place. Passerbys Tony, would wager.

“She’s in love with me,” he said with a matter of fact nod. Peter rolled his eyes so hard Tony worried they’d get stuck that way.

“I can tell by the way you both verbally assault each other every morning.”

“It’s just a matter of time, I’m telling you. She can’t resist the Stark charm forever.”

“Is that what that was?”

“Hey, don’t you have a bus to catch?”

“Nah, I have a few minutes. I like to watch Ms. Potts dance circles around you.”

“And just for that one you have lost coffee privileges,” he said and reached over to snatch up Peter’s mug before he could even protest. Tony threw it back in one drink as Peter unsuccessfully tried to get it back.

“You’re getting me more, that’s not right stealing a man’s coffee like that.” Peter folded his arms across his chest and glared.

“Please, you’re still a boy, and no refills remember?”

“That’s only for you.”

Tony slid the mug over to bump against Peter’s school books. “Then I guess you should start working Pepper now for that next fix.”

Peter groaned and playfully shoved Tony as he stood up and made his way to beg for more lifeblood.

Tony watched the boy go and felt the same immense pride and happiness swell in his chest that he always did when looking at Peter for too long. The kid was brilliant, maybe even more so than he was, only he was going to make something more of himself than a failed inventor moonlighting as an inn manager. He couldn’t dwell too hard on his own failings though. For the most part he was exactly where he wanted to be and it was sure as hell a much better enviornment for Peter to grow up in than that empty and foreboding Stark mansion.

Though the money of that life would definitely have been a huge help. By Tony’s estimation it would take around $75,000 altogether to put Peter through Midtown and he had no idea where he was going to come up with that kind of dough. They had enough money put back to be comfortable where they were but it wouldn’t take long for it to be bled dry. He wouldn’t let Peter worry about that though. Tony would stand out on a corner selling himself if it meant the kid got the education that he wanted. Okay, so maybe it wouldn’t come to that particular extreme, but there was nothing that he wouldn’t do to ensure Peter’s continued happiness.

A shrill laugh filled the air and brought Tony out of his daze. Peter still hadn’t returned and he looked around the small room searching for his curly bedhead. He spotted him at the end of the bar leaning back awkwardly, one of the leggy blondes from earlier practically sandwiching him against the counter. She had been the source of the laugh. Tony evaluated the scene and could tell that Peter was clearly uncomfortable as the woman looked at him like he was prey.

Pepper shot concerned glances every couple of seconds but she was busy helping another customer, unable to come to his rescue.

Tony hopped down from the stool and shoved his hands into his jean pockets as he approached.

“...cabin in the woods for the weekend. I’d really love it if you could join us too,” Tony caught the blonde saying in a suggestive tone as he approached.

Peter laughed nervously and rubbed his neck with the hand that wasn’t holding the newly refilled coffee.

“Is everything okay over here, Pete?”

Peter’s eyes shot to Tony’s in relief and he scooted towards him subconsciously. The blonde turned towards Tony too at first with a look of disgust and annoyance at having her conversation interrupted but then she raked her eyes across Tony’s form appreciatively and her grin from before grew more predatory if it were possible.

“Yeah, I was just getting coffee from Ms. Potts when I was…”

“Accosted?” Tony supplied helpfully.

The blonde tsked. “Hi, I’m Christine.”

“Tony,” he said with a nod.

“Tony. I was just discussing with your little brother here, that I was just passing through on my way to a weekend retreat with a friend. I think it’d be really nice if you guys could join us. We’ll go hiking, make a campfire, maybe some skinny dipping at the lake,” she raised her brow suggestively and Peter’s face turned an impressive shade of beet red.

Tony’s mind hadn’t even got to processing that part of the conversation yet.

“Brother?” he asked and looked over to Peter, holding the laughter at bay. The thought seemingly finally permeated his understanding as well because then Peter was laughing and Tony was right there with him.

Christine stared at the duo blankly as they tried to get the laughter under control.

“She thinks…” Tony began.

“That me and you…” Peter continued.

“This always happens.”

The laughter finally stopped and they both straightened up, Tony turning to Christine and schooling his features back to what Peter called his serious face.

“Peter is not my brother.”

“He’s not?” Christine asked in confusion. She looked the duo over once more noting the similarities in eyes and facial structure.

“Peter is my son.”

“Your son?” she gaped.

“According to the birth certificate,” Peter added, his confidence and joking manner returning at the shift in power of the situation.

Christine tried to recover from her error and squared her shoulders. “Well, the offer is still open. Father and son changes things a little but I do have a friend,” she motioned to a brunette that was sitting at a table glued to her cell phone an inch away from her face.

“Slow down, cougar town don’t let his height deceive you. Peter is 15 years old. You’ve been sexually harassing a minor for the last ten minutes.”

Christine’s eyes practically bulged from her skull and she backed away slowly, bumping into the table behind her. “I am so sorry, you look...and he looked…” she stuttered and snapped in front of her friends face a few times. “Jillian we need to leave.”

Tony had never seen such a hasty retreat in his thirty one years of life. He and Pete started laughing again and headed back to their original seats, Peter hastily grabbing his books from the counter and shoving them into his backpack.

“Well, that was fun,” he remarked and then threw an arm around Tony’s neck and giving him a quick squeeze. “Love ya, Dad. Star Wars marathon tonight?” Peter asked backing up towards the door with finger pointed at him. “You promised.”

“Original trilogy only,” Tony replied firmly.

“You’re such a snob.” Another eyeroll. Tony didn’t know how he didn’t get dizzy. “Take out from Joe’s and that new chinese restaurant?”

“Done.”

Peter smiled again and finally satisfied darted out the door and to the bus stop. Tony watched him run down the street until he couldn’t see him anymore, a grin still plastered to his face.The sound of coffee filling his empty mug caused Tony to whip around in wonder.

“I thought there were no refills?”

He folded his arms across his chest as Pepper just shrugged in response.

“Consider it a thank you.”

“For what?”

Pepper smiled sweetly and Tony got that fluttery feeling in his chest that always occurred when Pepper Potts smiled at him. He wanted to take a picture and frame it forever. She glanced to the table that Christine and her friend had vacated and then back to Tony and winked.

“For taking out the trash.”

He smiled back and took a long drink of the perfectly blended coffee. He didn’t care what jokes Peter made. That Stark charm was definitely wearing her down. Now if only they were close enough to ask her for a boatload of money to put his son through the school of his choice.

Tony did have other options.

He could call...them.

He would almost rather die though. Almost. They could definitely afford it and would almost certainly be thrilled to help their only grandson, but he didn't want to let them get their hooks in Peter and by extension himself. He spent so many years distancing himself from that life and proving that he didn't need them and their money. To come crawling back even for such a noble cause was painful. And who knows. Maybe Peter wouldn't even get in.

Shit. Who was he kidding? Peter was almost guaranteed to be admitted. He was his father's son after all.

Still. He could put off Howard and Maria a little longer.

Pulling out his phone he scrolled through his contacts. He had friends but none that he could impose upon like that.

There was one more person though. He scrolled down to the M's and his finger hovered over May's number. He and May had always retained a great friendship. They chatted often enough and she always made time to ask about and talk to Peter. If anyone would help him and not make him feel completely humiliated in the process it was May Parker. This was technically 50% of her responsibility after all.

She was Peter's mother.

#Mel's Fics #Pepperony #Iron Dad #Pepperony fanfiction #iron dad fanfiction #Gilmore Girls AU

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irondadgroupie · 6 years ago

Text

Bohemian Rhapsody: Chapter 6

A/N: Tony and May taking care of Peter. Again, any errors and issues can be told to us @intoresus

“Pepper, I need to see him.”

Tony had finally been given the clean bill of health apart from his hand and heart but pain was manageable with drugs and his heart was recovering. Pepper had brought him clothes to replace the hospital pajamas and she shook her head at the demand.

“Tony, May doesn’t allow you in Peter’s room. As painful as it is, we need to respect her wishes.”

Tony grunted in frustration: “How can she ever accept me again if I don’t try to reason with her?”

“She is still in shock, Tony” the woman gave him socks and opened the laces on his shoes so putting them on would be easier.

“Then get her a counselor or something, my treat.”

Tony bit his lip, when had socks become so impossible to tame? The wound around his toes and the material scratched everywhere.

“Look,” Pepper sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. She needed to be calm to get through to the man. “I think it’s not about the accident, it’s mostly about you.”

“I know that,” Tony spat out,” but I need to see Peter.”

“May barely lets Rhodey in, let alone me.”

“She will never learn I want nothing bad for Peter unless I prove it!”

Something in Tony snapped and he threw the shoe away in frustration. His right hand was practically useless and the fingers on his left shook from emotional turmoil.

“Peter- he is not getting better,” The man whispered and pressed his left hand against his lips. “Something is wrong. His pulse is quickening day by day-”

Pepper blinked in confusion at the abrupt change of topic.

“His pulse is- Tony!” Pepper shrieked once everything clicked. She felt a strong urge to smack the man across the head. “I gave you that Pad for relaxation only!”

“I can’t relax unless I know he is alright!” The man argued back. “It’s a win-win-situation!”

“Look,” The woman bit her lip in frustration and shook his head slowly. Pepper knew she had to be sensitive. “I understand that you tend to go a little overboard when it’s about someone you care about,” she stepped closer to caress the man’s good hand ,” but to hack a device I with love and good intentions gave you-”

“It’s not about that, Pepper,” Tony shook his head. His eyes glistened with unshed tears. It had been a long week. “I can only focus on Peter. I need to know what is wrong with him.”

The woman looked into Tony’s eyes and saw so much panic and concern she couldn’t but yield. Peter had become a part of his everyday life, there was always something: a message, a call, a meme, some kind of sing from Peter that he was thinking about his mentor.

Pepper gave a final, reassuring rub to Tony’s hand and debated whether to attempt a comforting smile.

“She is in the cafeteria, nurses are giving Peter a bath,” She turned her face away. It was difficult being the intermediary.

“Hey,” Tony's voice was a whisper as he hurriedly closed the door and stumbled to the kid's bedside. Peter laid in the exact same position, on his back, with the same tapes over his eyes and around his mouth to keep the ventilator in place. Tony hoped the boy had been moved at least once during the week.

For a moment, he couldn't do much else but stare at Peter and ponder how the quick pulse did not match the serene image the kid was giving.

“Shh,” Tony took the boy's hand and kissed his knuckles. “You're okay, Peter. I'm here now, Tony's here.”

Peter's chest rose and fell with artificial breaths and monitors flashed with lights. It shouldn't be like this.

“I'm sorry,” Tony cried and pressed the boy's hand close to his mouth. His tears wetted the pale, cool skin. “I'm so sorry, kiddo. I didn't mean to- I swear I didn't mean to!"

Peter gave no answer. Secretly and against his better judgement, Tony had hoped his presence would be the final push Peter needed to awaken but that appeared not to be enough. There was no movement anywhere, not on eyelids, on lips or in fingers.

Peter was truly in a coma.

“It should be me there,” Tony sighed and wiped his cheeks although he was certain more would come out in a minute. “I don't know why you were punished. I was the one driving. I should have been hurt. God,” He gave a shaky breath and looked at the Heavens. He cursed every God and deity in existence. He cursed Karma and every law of world order. “Why did I let you sit in the front seat?”

He could not focus, he lost the track of time as he held the boy's hand and stroked his face gently, his fingers desperate to remember every dimple, every curve and the warmth of Peter’s skin. He muttered soft, loving words. He hoped that if Peter was aware, he knew he was loved and missed.

His moment of peace was shattered.

“And yes, if we take into account his-“ The door opened and Tony snapped back into awareness. Then, a shrill scream: “You!”

“Alright, I’ll go.” Tony raised his hands although speaking the words broke his heart. He didn’t want to leave, and he knew - and hoped - from the bottom of his heart that Peter wanted him to stay. It was only the fact that he’d spent the last few days reading nothing but scientifically proven researches on how to properly care for coma patients, and he’d learned that external conflicts between primary contact persons could cause an immense stress reaction. He didn’t want to have Peter hurt any more than he already was.

The physician was standing between Tony and May, preventing the latter from physically jumping at the man. Suddenly he looked up, eyebrows raised at the numbers displayed in the heart monitor.

“Wait a moment, Mr. Stark, ple-“

“Send him out!” May screamed. “He only wants to finish what he started!”

“I’m do not!” Tony forgot his rule about staying calm for Peter. The boy was his sore spot, the apple of his eye, and the thought of him wanting to intentionally harm the boy was so outrageous he considered suing the woman for slander. “I would never harm a hair on his head, I couldn’t!”

“Be quiet, will you?!” The doctor snapped and his sudden outburst was surprising enough to have the entire room fall quiet, aside of the steady beating of Peter’s heart monitor, still far too quick for everyone’s tastes.

“There we go. If you want to have a fight, have it outside, instead of letting Peter catch the worst of it.” He paused, silently enjoying the looks of embarrassment on the duo’s faces. He turned Tony.

“Please, take Peter’s hand again.”

“Why do you let him -“The doctor silenced May with a single sharp gesture before pointing at the monitor. Tony settled himself in the armchair at Peter’s right side, took the boy’s hand in his and softly kissed his knuckles. It took a second for the reaction to settle in and then another for May to understand it: the green 85 on screen was suddenly replaced with a wonderful - and most of all healthy - 69.

“What -“

The medic thoughtfully shook his head, half a smile on his lips.

“Mrs. Parker, you know we’ve run dozens of tests to figure out why your nephew’s resting heart-rate is off the charts, even with factoring in his exceptional healing. We were able to rule out all sorts of infections and internal bleeding. After our latest council, we had to admit that there seems to be no medical reason for his elevated heart-rate. But I assume we’ve just found it.”

May almost scoffed.

“Are you trying to tell me -“

“Latest research shows that the presence of beloved people has a calming effect on comatose patients, even in a very basic state of awareness. I do not intend to tell you that your presence didn’t have such an effect,” he added after seeing the hurt expression on May’s face. “However, I believe that the absence of Mr. Stark seemed to have a negative effect, and the changes in heart-rate might be the body’s attempt to express that.”

May remained quiet for a second, her eyes first fixed on the numbers on the monitor, then on Peter’s face. She still disliked that it was necessary to tape his eyes to protect his vision, and she hated how small and pale he looked in that huge bed, but she could still recognize Peter.

The boy who’d spent his entire life admiring Tony Stark. The boy who wouldn’t stop talking about Stark Expo for months (“He said I did nice work! Isn’t that amazing?!”). Her teenage kid that finally came home with a smile on his face again when he could talk about how he’s been working in the lab with Mr Stark.

She might dislike Tony - and she wouldn’t stop being suspicious about what had happened - but Peter loved the man and his presence was undeniably calming him. If she’d send him away, she’d probably only worsen his condition - and that was the last thing she wanted.

Besides, having him here meant she could have a closer eye on what he was doing.

May took a step closer to the bed.

“You really missed him that bad, honey?” She asked gently and carefully ruffled her nephew’s hair, still damp and color darker from the bath.

Tony looked up, his thumb still subconsciously stroking the back of Peter’s hand. He didn’t dare destroy the moment by saying something that could probably change May’s mind again. He only dared to finally take a breath of relief when she said it out loud.

“You can stay.” Her voice still sounded gravely, but it was a start. Tony leaned forward and gently kissed Peter’s brow.

“I’m not going to leave your side, kid. Not ever again. I promise.”

Tony was allowed to stay in Peter’s room but the cold between him and May didn’t vanish. The man held himself back in fear of saying or doing anything that could possibly upset her, so he remained quiet for a while, letting May do the talking and care for Peter. She started with how the weather had been over the day before coming to a little more serious topic, her voice getting quieter.

“Ned has been texting me non-stop for the past couple of days. Has been asking me if he could come visit you after school, at least.” She paused, smiling sadly, shaking fingers stroking trough the curled hair. The nurses had neatly brushed it and May realized she didn’t like it. The last time Peter had styled his hair that way had been on the first day of High School and May's encouragement and begging had played a large part in it. With school and lab-work and being Spider-Man, the ‘approved messy hairstyle’ had become his thing.

“I asked him not to,” May continued after a moment. “I know you wouldn’t want him to see you this way. But don’t worry. He’s not mad, I even think he understands. Said he’d wait for you to wake up before continuing on that Avenger’s Lego set.”

At this point, despite all the fears and agony over Peter’s condition, Tony couldn’t help but have a hint of a grin grace his lips. The kid basically knew the greatest part of the Avengers in person and he still lightened up with joy when he got the Lego set.

“Sure, I do. Like, I’m not always Spider-Man. And I’m not always at the compound either, so this’ll remind me of you when I’m ho-“The boy didn't the final sentence, there was suddenly blush on his face. He looked down, grabbing for a pencil before hastily noting something down. “Please just forget I said anything, Mr. Stark.”

Tony just laughed. “Forget what, Underoos?”

He knew Peter thought what he said was sort of cheesy and Tony agreed it definitely was but nonetheless it warmed Tony’s heart.

He squeezed the kid’s hand as if hoping to transfer the happy memory by simple touch.

“But you shouldn’t keep him waiting for too long,” May continued. “You shouldn’t keep me waiting for too long. We need you here. Cheering everyone up with your quips, or unwittingly making me feel stupid for not understanding half of the science stuff you do.”

Tony smiled again.

“Oh, and I almost forgot he asked me to tell you the following, and I’m supposed to quote: ‘Mr. Spock’s not even half as cool as Luke Skywalker”.

Tony saw May wait and he did too. A healthy Peter would’ve started rambling right now because who would dare to compare Star Wars to Stark Trek?!

Eventually, May accepted there was no hope of getting a response from Peter that day.

“He has always been a heavy sleeper,” The woman sighed and leaned back on her chair. “Ever since he was a baby. I remember we once walked by a construction site during a stroller nap and Peter didn't even flinch.”

“I have noticed,” Tony nodded. “I have to practically drag the kid up from bed.”

“I started setting an alarm clock a few feet from his bed so he would have to get up.”

“Okay, I haven't considered that,” The man had to admit the idea had potential. “Mind if I borrow the idea?”

“If it gets him to school on time, nope.”

They fell into silence and watched over their kid. Only a day in and they were both exhausted from the tension. Would Peter sense it?

May was the first one to break to resume conversation.

“Do you mind if I let my friend see Peter's scans and info? He is a renowned doctor and has worked with coma patients before.”

Tony had to think it over.

“Personally, I have nothing against it but there might come some disclosure issues. I suggest you ask from Peter's doctor.”

“But aren't you the head boss?”

“Technically, yes, but I am not an expert in medical field. I don’t know if info on Peter’s condition would reveal he is enhanced.”

May understood and fell silent. “If he is enhanced, why hasn't he woken up?”

Tony again did not have a ready answer.

“Maybe he is not ready to.”

“What would keep him in his head?”

“Maybe he is having an adventure there.”

“I'd rather he rests.”

They fell silent again. Their conversations were still forced and quickly cut short. The only reason they were having them were because hearing their voices was usually calming Peter, and aside from that, it sometimes helped with getting questions across.

Eventually, Tony felt a desperate need to get out of the room. To do something even slightly useful.

He clapped his knees and stood up.

“I’ll go get coffee. You want some?”

May shook her head. “Thanks, but no.”

“I’ll try to fetch his doctor too. Ask him about his opinion on getting a second opinion.”

“Thank you.”

Tony tried to smile reassuringly at her but it felt wrong. He turned to Peter instead. His heart sunk just looking at him. The facial features were Peter’s, but the posture was wrong. He looked too clinical, too tense. And he definitely shouldn’t need a ventilator to support his breathing but that’s where they were now.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back in just a minute.” His injured hand remained grasping Peter’s, the other gently wandered up before reaching Peter’s face, stroking his cheek. He could still cry in joy by the fact alone that the skin below was finally warm. That was a positive, at least.

May watched the scene and Tony’s leaving in silence, eyebrows slightly raised. What she’d seen so far didn’t fit her mental representation of him, more prominently not the media version of him. There was no logical reason for him to even settle in Peter’s room. Why should he care that much for just one of his company’s interns? But then again maybe he was just worried that he’d lose his “Spidey-Sidekick”.

May reached for one of the tablets Tony had offered her to stay on track with the details on Peter’s entire condition. It was also a gateway to majority of recently published papers that could probably include further information on how to take care of Peter the best way possible. She’d been offended at first, she certainly knew more about coma than Tony Stark, but realized that there was nothing against being completely up to date.

Tony returned five minutes later a mug of coffee in his hand and once he’d settled down May took the chance to have a few minutes for herself, too. No matter how much she disliked leaving Peter’s side, there were some basics she couldn’t reschedule forever. And she definitely needed a shower, too.

“I’ll be gone for a few, can you take care of him ‘til then?”

“Sure.” Tony nodded. “We might do a session of therapy in the meanwhile, what do you think?”

Peter didn’t answer but May did in his stead.

“Yes, that’d be good.”

Tony had hired physiotherapists to come up with an exercise plan to maintain Peter's physique, and he was eager to begin as soon as the door closed. Starting with the boy’s feet and legs, he slowly worked up to upper limbs.

“Curl,” Tony made a fist with Peter's fingers. “And open.” He rubbed the boy's palm between his hands. “Okay, we're done. Then light massage. Mustn't let those wonderful muscles wither away.”

It did not compare to training together in the Tower and then relaxing in sauna and talking about their day, but it would have to do for now.

“You're a mark A student,” The man held onto Peter's hand and patted it. “Same time tomorrow?”

Peter gave no answer, only the monitors beeped. Tony felt the all too familiar sting in his eyes and hid his face in Peter's hair.

The door opened and May stopped at her place.

“Sorry, did I-”

“Nope,” Tony straightened and discreetly wiped his face. “We just finished working out.”

“Everything good?”

“Yep, aiming for the Olympix.”

May snorted quietly and took her seat. She had brought an old timer for the bedside table and at the moment, it started ringing. Tony hated the sound, his cooking timers had soft tunes but this one seemed better suited as an alarm clock for the military.

“God, put that out!” Tony covered Peter's ears. At first, he had hoped the loud, abrupt sound would help the boy wake up but now his main concern was possible bleeding in the kid's ears.

“Why? We need this,” The woman stood up and gathered the supplies.

Tony raised an eyebrow but understood when he saw May working on the settings of the ventilator, a catheter line in one hand. He backed off, not wanting to disrupt her work.

“Don’t worry, kiddo,” The man massaged Peter’s temple with his thumb. “Your aunt’s just cleaning your breathing tube. Sucking all that stupid mucus out so you can breathe just fine and don’t have to deal with a nasty infection.”

His hand came to rest in the softness of the boy’s curls but his eyes were fixed on May performing the task.

The woman waited for the system to inform that thirty seconds of highly oxygenated air had been delivered, making it safe for her to disconnect the ventilator and insert the smaller tube. She was careful, her brows burrowed in the effort of letting the catheter follow the breathing tube and turned the suctioning machine on only after being sure that everything was well set.

Tony counted the seconds in his head.

“Take it out.” He said suddenly. “You aren’t supposed to go on for longer than five to seven seconds or you risk asphyxia or a dry and sore throat.”

“Which of us works in the medical field?” May’s answer was dry. She turned the device off and slowly moved the catheter out before reconnecting the ventilator.

“That was it, sweetheart. You can rest now.” She squeezed Peter’s hand softly.

Tony pursed his lips but said nothing more.

#bohemian rhapsody #fanfic #irondad

30 notes · View notes

sanjuno · 7 years ago

Note

If you're still doing GoT fix fics, maybe Final Fantasy 15?

5/7 GoT Crossover Fix-Its: The Light of Fire and Ice

Jorah Mormont is a Northman through and through. With an honour code you could hammer a sword out of, a deadpan sense of humour, and a glower that could make a bull back up. His father’s pride and joy, Jorah wields a sword like he was born with one in his hand. All of Bear Island watches the Heir with pride. One day Jorah will be their Lord, and he will rule them well. He follows the Old Way, and the Old Gods, and he treats highborn and low with the same solemn gravitas. It humbles and inspires the people of Bear Island, and they work all the harder to live up to the Heir’s example. The fortifications build up, the levy forces grow strong, and trade increases. Jorah quietly lets it be known that any women wanting arms training are welcome, and Maege Mormont loves her nephew all the more for the fact that Jorah makes no distinction between their worth as warriors based on gender or circumstances of birth. Jorah calls them the Northguard, and no matter the rank everyone starts from the bottom. A little competition is good for them all, and the challenge makes the people of Bear Island raise themselves up.

Cor Leonis wakes up after a long, exhausting life that had stretched on far too long. He had outlived three Kings, his almost-lover, most of his friends and family. Dying at last had been a relief. Only the Astrals had plucked his soul up out of the mists and said that they had another job for him. Cor was tired though, and he wanted to rest. But he would be rewarded this time, should he accept this task to battle the Night once more, and he would see the Prince Who Was Promised live again. Exhausted, but not exhausted enough to put aside his oaths, Cor agrees, and the Immortal breathes.

Dacey Mormont is a terrifying opponent, and has ways of remaining informed about everything that happens in Bear Island. Dacey is at the forefront of Jorah’s changes to how Bear Island is run, and quickly becomes her Lord cousins trusted steward. No one objects when Jorah leaves her in charge of Bear Island when the North marches to war.

Monica Elshett had never expected the Astrals to take a personal interest in her, no matter how loyally she had served the royal family of Lucis. Being told that the Marshall would need her help spurred her to accept the duty to fight the Night again. She’d spent her life protecting the Light, she wasn’t going to let something like death and rebirth slow her down. First thing though, was that this strange idea that only men could fight had to go.

Ethan Glover is Brandon Stark’s squire, a quick-witted boy who favours duel shortswords and throwing knives over the more traditional longsword. For all his japes he offers council wise beyond his years, and successfully manages to curb the worst of Brandon Starks excessive carousing where even the Lord Stark himself failed. Ethan had a habit of loudly and explicitly detailing his thoughts and opinions in the most cheerful voice possible while Brandon was hung over. The Heir Stark cut back one women and wine even if only to avoid the headache and the inescapable lecture from his squire. Despite all Ethan’s efforts, there’s no stopping the Mad King’s execution of the Starks. Ethan staggers home with the Mad King’s message, carrying the horror of what he has witnessed with him, and sharing it all with the Kingdom of the North. The North remembers. Thorren Stark bent the knee to save his people from Dragonfire. The Mad King has violated the terms of their agreement, and the North answers with one voice when the Stark in Winterfell calls the Banner to arms.

Nyx Ulric dies burning, and the Draconian catches him up, thanks him for his loyal service. The Dawn came at last, and Nyx thanked Bahamut for letting him see it. To know that the sacrifice Nyx had made was not in vain. The Astrals say they have another task for him, that there is another world where the Darkness seeks to rule. There is a world where Nyx can live again, where he can find peace. A reward for his service, a second chance to make things right. Nyx agrees, of course he agrees, and the Hero of the Kingsglaive breathes.

Jorah Mormont and Ethan Glover meet for the first time in a council of war, and all who witnessed it agree that it was a small thing. Easily overlooked, but something Jorah said made Ethan speak up. And something about how Ethan spoke made Jorah respond. From that point on their alliance was sealed, and the Northern Forces under Jorah Mormont’s command came to expect to see Ethan at his right hand, and they smashed through the Royalist forces with victory after victory.

Cor meets Nyx again while arguing tactics in a command tent, and the Kingsglaive’s familiar grin is bright and inviting him to share the joke. Once again, they are going to war to free their Kingdom from a mad emperor. Once again, their rightful King was slain by treachery. Now they go to seek justice, and the freedom of their people. This war needs to be won if they plan to fight back the Night and bring the Dawn once again. They battle, and it’s so much easier to win against men who are only human, who are fighting for a cause they do not truly believe in. Remembering Drautos’ betrayal was painful, but they took the lesson to heart, and slowly the message spread. Any man who lay down his arms would be allowed to leave, and the forces of the Mad King trickled away as men disgusted by the excesses of the Targaryens left King Murderer and Prince Rapist to their fates.

Jorah Mormont says nothing when he joins Eddard Stark on his journey to Dorne. Ned accepts the Lord of Bear Island into the company without a word. It was expected given Ned had requested Ethan come along to see things through to the end. The next verse of the song is rewritten abruptly when the Northmen meet the Kingsguard in combat at the foot of the Tower of Joy. Dawn rings against Ice and Arthur Dayne only has a moment to be startled by the skill of House Stark’s second son turned Lord before the wisdom of the Northmen’s distain for tourneys shines bright. The Northmen don’t fight like Southern Knights. They don’t close, don’t let the Kingsguard control the fight. Instead they harass and harry the white-clad knights like a pack of wolves, darting in and out in turns. Oswell Whent goes down with a knife in his eye, Gerold Hightower is taken out when the endless shifting tactics of the Northmen overwhelm his ability to track them and Longclaw sinks into his left armpit, and Arthur Dayne himself gets a crannogman’s spear to the back of his knees and Ice takes off his head when he stumbles.

The Northmen have all survived, and so the knowledge of Jon’s parentage is a bit more widespread. They return Arthur’s bones to Starfall, along with the other two Kingsguard. Cor is low-key offended that they dared to call themselves Kingsguard when their so-called King was unworthy of it. Nyx half-jokingly offers to make Cor an honorary Kingsglaive if it’ll make him feel better. Marshall of the Kingsglaive sounds a bit silly, Cor responds, he’ll stick with Crownsguard. Less sexist. No sillier than being The Immortal, Nyx jests. The Northmen remain subdued in their relief out of respect for Lady Ashara Dayne and her obvious pain. None of them are surprised when they hear that she kills herself after they leave.

At Ethan’s insistence, Ned claims that Jon is Brandon’s son. Much like in the first version of the song, there are rumours about the identity of the boy’s mother. Because Ethan is there to support the claim that Jon is Brandon’s seed, there’s less stress over someone questioning the identity of the mother. Everyone involved just follows Ethan’s lead in saying she was dead and that they would appreciate if everyone stopped slandering the Lady’s name. Jon still gets raised at Winterfell, and Catelyn still resents bastards like before, but Jon’s not the only Stark bastard running around the North. He’s just the only one without a mother still living. It makes Catelyn appreciate being married to Ned more, and so she’s less difficult to deal with regarding their own children than in canon. So Arya doesn’t have to fight for arms training, and Sansa is required to learn how to defend herself from unwanted male attentions. Jorah Mormont is very insistent on this point and even sends his Aunt Maege to Winterfell as the Stark girl’s tutor for this purpose. Catelyn gets over it eventually.

Viserys Targaryen is an angry boy, that much everyone can agree on. Not mad the way his father and other notable ancestors had been, but full of a thwarted fire. The number of times the Kingsguard had to pull the younger prince away from his mother’s bedchambers when the King was visiting his wife was daunting to consider. The threats of dire retribution were rather more chilling, even coming from a toddler. Not only because the boy was oddly well spoken, but also because Viserys was not going to remain a harmless child forever.

Ravus Nox Fleuret did not like his new life. The Glacian had said he had a debt to pay, and that he would be needed to protect his sister so that she could fulfil her destiny against the Dark once again. Ravus did not think having to listen to his new mother get raped by her brother was an entirely fair punishment. For one, Rhaella was the one suffering the most and this was supposed to be Ravus’ punishment. For another, Ravus had already spent one lifetime pretending to serve a mad emperor in order to protect his people and he didn’t really have the patience to do so a second time. The fact that Aerys seemed to approve of Ravus’ attitude was just salt in the wound.

Daenerys Targaryen is born during a mighty storm, the wind and the waves are the only thing keeping the ships carrying the Baratheon forces away from Dragonstone. Her mother names her, passes her over to her older brother, and then bids them run. Run far, run fast, and live. They need to live.

Lunafreya Nox Fleuret breathes again with the Fulgurian shielding her from harm, and the Hydraean carrying her away. Both promise she will be safe, that she will escape those who seek her death and she will grow into the power that will save the Prince Who Was Promised once again. Luna clings to her brother and weeps, because her mother is gone. Luna clings to her brother as Ravus whispers love and devotion and apologies into her hair and rejoices, because she has the older brother she has missed so much for so long back. By the blessings of the Astrals they are together again, and they have a second chance to get things right.

When Ser Willam Darry betroths Viserys to Arianne Martell the young prince is deemed capable of understanding the need, and so is informed of the contact. Viserys isn’t impressed by their scheming, and is instead rather more occupied with caring for his little sister. He cares little for the Iron Throne, and says that the are greater worries to concern himself with. It’s put down to boy’s obsession with the Princess’ safety, and Willam hopes that the boy doesn’t plan on continuing the Targaryen legacy in that way. Further speech with Viserys eases that worry, and Willam instead starts to hope that Viserys will be a good King when the time comes.

Ravus understands politcal marriages from two lifetimes as a Prince, but his father was a madman and Ravus will be content with ruling Dorne by the side of his future wife when the time comes. Luna can marry the True King and take over the Empire when the brat shows up again. They’re going to need to defeat the forces of Darkness before anything else will matter, after all. If their first life is any indication, Ravus will barely be an adult when the War for the Dawn begins. Hopefully it won’t take ten years this time.

Viserys Targaryen learns the sword from Ser Willam Darry, and displays a strength of character that endears him to both the four men at arms from Dragonstone, and the servants hired by the Sealord of Braavos to serve the exiled Prince. When Ser Willam grows ill and dies, Viserys manages to retain control of his household, small as it is. Daenerys grows up in a house with a red door, a lemon tree growing in the garden. Viserys begins to earn a reputation settling disputes, devouring books of law and only occasionally resorting to bashing people over the heads with his sword. Soon the Targaryen’s are being invited from city to city on the behest of powerful citizens who want a neutral voice to settle a dispute when they can’t be seen to favour either side. Eventually that matures into settling disputes between powerful citizens, and the Free Cities chatter about the Lawful King in Exile.

Luna is laughing hysterically at her brother. Poor Ravus had never been in line to inherit, since the Nox Fleuret were matriarchal, so the expectation of the people that Ravus would want to be King on the Iron Throne escaped him for the longest time. Ravus was just doing what he had been trained all his life to do, keep things running smoothly. The poor man was nearing twenty by the time he finally realized what impression he was giving with his networking in the Free Cities. Ravus promptly went to Luna and started whining about people being stupid and how much longer until her stupid Prince made his move? Luna just laughed at her brother more and then told him to accept the next offer from Pentos, and to let Illyrio Moptas feast them when they went there. The Magister had something the Draconian wanted them to get ahold of.

The grins Viserys and Daenerys Targaryen share over the three petrified dragon eggs that the Magister of Pentos offers as payment for the Lawbringer’s services are deeply, deeply unsettling. Illyrio can only be glad that they leave his city without enacting a second Summerhall.

Dragging her brother deep into the desert, Luna asks for a knife and the biggest fire they can make. Cuts to the top of their forearms bleed freely onto the eggs, and Ravus stands with his sister in the bloody wreckage of a slaver camp as the flames climb up high around them. A girl from the pleasure houses of Lys watches with awe as the fire rages and the figures within remain standing. She is not the only one to remain close enough to watch, but she is the closest, and she’s the one who rushes forward with two cloaks when the siblings emerge naked from the ashes carrying their newborn dragons. Ravus and Luna gather the new members of their household and take them back to Pentos. The time to fight for the Dawn was coming closer.

Gerold Dayne is still a small child when his cousin dies fighting the Northmen who had come to Dorne to retrieve the kidnapped Lyanna Stark. As Gerold grows the stories of his strength spread. So do the tales of his fierce glower, and the coldness in his eyes. Still, despite his fierceness Gerold grows into an honourable man. A better one than Arthur Dayne had proven himself to be, allowing his Prince to kidnap and rape an already betrothed noblewoman. Gerold doesn’t envy his cousin the reputation the man earned. Arthur proved unworthy of Dawn, and that was why the blade failed him. Gerold hires an artist skilled with inks when he becomes the Lord of High Hermitage and the bird tattoo that takes up all the skin from nape to knee becomes the talk of Dorne. No one is overly surprised when Gerold inherits Dawn, and the smile on the fierce Dayne’s face when he grips the sword is sharp enough to cut on it’s own.

Gladiolus Amicitia was born to be the Shield of the chosen King. He was born with a duty that he would never be able to fulfil. To save the world, and all the life on it, Gladio’s king was going to die. No matter the prophecy, no matter the words given by Gilgamesh, what use was a Shield that was destined to fail. What purpose did he have? When the Astrals told him that he could live again, that he could find Noct again and keep his Chosen King safe as a true Shield should, Gladio didn’t hesitate. Even if it meant starting over from scratch, the chance to remain true to his duty was all he’d ever wanted. He breathed again.

Ashara Dayne’s daughter is born to a mother who weeps daily and never bothers to give the girl a name. The things Ashara witnessed in King’s Landing, and the things she suffered there… they broke her. The Lord of Starfall quietly had the babe cared for, and when Ashara threw herself off the cliff into the sea, he sent the child to live in High Hermitage with their cousins. Gerold Dayne was the first to take hold of the girl, and named her Irhys Dayne of High Hermitage. Records were quietly altered to reflect this, and no one ever spoke of it again.

Iris Amicitia was useless during the events that killed her father and most of the people she counted as family during her first life. The Astrals promised to make it up to her, and sent her to be with her brother again. Determined to be more help, Iris breathed again.

Domeric Bolton was a superb student when it came to managing a Lordship, and although he far preferred daggers to swords, he was a credit to his House in every way. The Heir to Dreadfort was watched carefully for the usual Bolton tendencies, but the youth honestly just seemed determined to master every challenge set before him. The odd white eyes he had inherited from his father had a brooding intensity to them, always focused on some far distant point in the future. There’s no love lost between Domeric and his bastard half-brother, and when Ramsay Snow seeks Domeric Bolton out, it’s the bastard who takes ill and dies shortly after.

Ignis Scientia felt the dawn break and knew that Noctis was dead. It hurt. Dawn should have been something to rejoice over, but he couldn’t see it. Just like Noctis, Ignis was never going to see the sun. It was fitting, somehow. What use was an advisor without a King? What use was an advisor when the only choices were to die or be killed? The light of the sun felt nothing like triumph. Ignis does not expect the Astrals to contact him when he finally dies. He does not expect the news that there is another world under threat of an Endless Night. He does not expect to be told that Noctis would fight for the Dawn once again, and that Ignis could be at his King’s side if he so chose. Ignis doesn’t hesitate. Noctis had the lamentable habit of making regrettable choices when Ignis wasn’t there to curb the worst of the chaos. So Ignis breathes again.

Jon Snow is carried North by a serious group of Northmen who still smile at him when they notice his attention turning to them. His uncle carries him most often, paranoid after loosing so much of his family so quickly. When not in Ned’s arms, Jon is with Jorah Mormont and Ethan Glover, who are as besotted with the babe as any new father might be. No one is surprised when Ethan offers to take the boy as his ward, given that he was Brandon’s squire and it will quiet many of the questions. Ned gently refuses, not wanting any of his blood to be too far from him if he can help it. Brandon’s bastard in Greywater Watch had his mother, and Ned was not so cruel as to take the boy away, but Jon he could keep. He would need to talk to Catelyn, but the boy wasn’t Ned’s, and that should be enough for any Lady to be content with.

Noctis Lucis Caelum fulfils his destiny as the True King, and lowers his head to rest. He finds himself before the Astrals once again, including the cleansed Infernian, and they tell him the Dawn has come to Eos again. Then they tell him that there is another world where the Darkness is gathering strength. A world that the Glacian has been watching over, a world that echoes Eos but lacks the strength and protection of the Lucian Kings. The Astrals want to send him there, to the world where a Prince had been Promised so long ago that men had forgotten why the True King would rise. Noctis is promised a chance to live again, is told that his life is not the coin that would buy the Dawn. Kill the Night King, and survive the Battle for the Dawn, and we will be with you always. Ready to make the most of it, Noctis breathes again.

Samwell Tarly is a pudgy child with only lacklustre skill in swords. He is, at least, passible with a spear, more than decent with knives, and is unmatched with longbow or crossbow in hand. It’s almost as if the further from his opponent he is, the greater a threat to them Samwell becomes. They don’t talk about Samwell’s ability to destroy a room given a bit of coal and flour dust, or his odd insistence that horses are untrustworthy and that his father would be better served with riding birds. Lord Tarly tells his heir to stop reading stories from the lands beyond Westros and to focus on his duties at home. Samwell pouts and takes to running in circles around the outside of the Keep. It’s yet another sign of oddness from the boy, but it at least toughens the Tarly Heir up enough that there are no more comments about the softness of his stomach.

Prompto Argentum leapt at the chance to be with Noctis again. Sure it was a little disheartening that they’d have to fight the Darkness again first but they’d be able to survive this time! Even if Prompto had to make everything explode they were all going to survive this time! The Astrals had said that Noctis didn’t have to die to win this time, just kill the other guy. Killing the other guy was easy! Prompto had gotten really good at killing the other guys! So Prompto breathed again.

Jorah Mormont had a bit of an unusual reputation among the Lords of the North. When his father had been arranging his marriage to a lady from House Glover, Jorah had ridden to Deepwood Motte and spoken to all the Ladies being considered. What was discussed had never been revealed, but the Lady who became his wife was not the one Jeor Mormont and Galbart Glover would have picked. But they got their marriage alliance, and it’s not like the marriage had been refused, after all. After the Rebellion Ethan Glover moves to Bear Island and weds Jorah’s cousin Dacey Mormont, further binding the two houses.

Cor panics only a little when he hears that his father is planning to marry him off, and heads off to go speak to the ladies in question. Luck, and a small flare of Lucian magic, let’s him recognize Crowe when he sees her. The Marshall and the Kingsglaive mage quickly agree that their best bet is to set things up in their favour and hijack the betrothal before they end up married to strangers who don’t know about the duty they have to fulfill. Who won’t understand the need to fight back the Long Night until it’s too late. Crowe is quick to tell Cor that Nyx is back too, and is overjoyed to see Monica again. After the Rebellion is over, Nyx moves into Bear Island, laughs at Crowe, and then gets laughed at himself when Monica decides to make him her beard. Considering Crowe spends most of her nights with Monica, and Nyx spends most of his nights with Cor, the situation is neatly sorted.

The men from the Tower of Joy remain close. Although some remain closer than others. Willam Dustin and his wife Barbrey attend every celebration at Winterfell when Ned’s various children are born, gifting each with a horse. Martyn Cassel starts training the Stark children, ensuring that even gentle Sansa can defend herself, giving over the girls readily to Maege Mormont’s ands when the formidably Northern Lady visits, and then encouraging Sansa to learn healing from the Maester when she expresses her distaste for combat. Mark Ryswell often joins Ethan and Jorah in Bear Island to train when he isn’t busy with his horse herds. Theo Wull follows Jorah’s example and starts to build up the strength of the Mountain Clans. With the Starks and the Houses of the men who followed him to Dorne leading the way, the North gets serious about building up their strength again. Even in Greywater Watch there are changes being made. House Reed doesn’t want to be responsible for Moat Cailin again, but they start repairing it anyway with the understanding that a Stark would one day be taking responsibility for it.

There aren’t very many of them, but most of the reborn Lucians were in the party that went to Dorne with Ned Stark. Petra Fortis goes back to Barrowtown, his old dislike of the Kingsglaive eroded under the obvious favour of the Astrals in their being reborn here. Pelna Khara stays in Winterfell as the Prince’s personal guard, working on making sure the Prince’s new cousins weren’t ever the soft targets Princess Lunafreya ended up being. Dustin Ackers is delighted to see Monica again, and frequently travels from the Rills to Bear Island just for the pleasure of having an argument with her. Libertus Ostium splits his time between the Mountain Clans and Bear Island, having missed Crowe and Nyx. They all wonder if the King and Lord Amicitia will ever join them, but Nyx quietly lets them know what Cor told him. That Regis was absorbed by the Crystal when he died, and that Clarus would never leave his King behind. Noctis was the last of the Lucis Caelum line, and the only one not taken permanently by the Crystal. After the massacre of Elia Martell and her children at the Red Keep, Noctis is, once again, the only one of the Royal line that they have left.

Martyn Cassel goes white as summer snow when they find the direwolf mother dead with a stag’s antler in her throat. He cuffs Theon Greyjoy hard enough to send the boy sprawling in the dirt when mention is made of killing the pups. The gods are speaking to House Stark, and they’re all idiots with cheese in their ears it they can’t hear it. One pup for each of the children of House Stark, Martyn says with a smile as he hands the albino pup to Jon, it looks like the gods have made their choice. Things were never bad for Jon before then, but with Ghost at his side it’s as if the entire North has forgotten to call him Snow. When the King announces that he’s coming to Winterfell, the men from the Tower of Joy arrive first, bringing with them supplies and servants and comforts for the soft sensibilities of the Southroners. Catelyn is relieved beyond measure at the way the Northmen band together to ensure their Lord Paramount is well represented during the Royal visit. Ned is grateful for the unspoken message that his Bannerman will defend Jon even against the King, even if the idea of turning on Robert makes him deeply uncomfortable. But there are the direwolves to consider, and the sign from the Old Gods, and there are too many Lannisters on the way to Winterfell for Ned to be comfortable facing the Royal visit alone. So Ned doesn’t turn down the backup, and having Dacey Glover, Barbrey Dustin, and Gilliana Mormont there eases much of the strain on Catelyn. She’s still very much a Southron Lady at the most inconvenient times, and her worry over being throught barbarians by the party from King’s Landing is one of them.

Noctis has never had such a big family before, since the Crystal sapped much of the vitality from the Lucis Caelum line and kept the number of children for each generation small. So the wealth of cousins that his uncle gives him is something Noctis treasures. He can hear Ghost in his head the way he once heard the Astrals when he was trapped in the Crystal. The Astral’s voices come clearest in the Godswood these days, but Ghost’s voice is always clear to his mind as his own. So when Ghost hears Summer cry out in worry and growing fear, Noctis doesn’t even think about the low profile he’s supposed to be keeping. He chain warps fast and hard across Winterfell, from the Godswood to the Broken Tower without pausing and Bran is falling!

Bran is caught before he hits the ground, his terrified mind still hearing Ser Jaime’s voice repeating “the things I do for love” before his fingers are pulled away from the stones. But Jon caught him, Bran’s cousin who has always been like a second older brother. Jon who is breathing fast and hard like he’s been running for an hour, and Bran doesn’t even have to say anything before Jon’s looking up at the window where Ser Jaime is standing. The Lannister Whitecloak is the one who looks terrified now, where he was amused before, and Jon doesn’t stop to ask questions. Bran still in his arms, direwolves at his heels and howling for the rest of the pack, Jon runs back the way he came.

Noctis is lucky, and the only one who saw him warp is Cor, who is already gathering his armsmen together when Noctis rushes into the main courtyard with Bran in his arms calling at the top of his lungs for Lady Stark’s attention. Unlike the world where Bran was never saved from his fall, the Royal party is blatantly outnumbered by the Northmen. Catelyn Stark is not kind to threats to her children. She can’t do anything about the Queen, but the Kingslayer she has imprisoned in chains, and all the men in Lannister colours are stripped of their arms and confined to a barrack. The Baratheon forces are asked by a frigidly polite Lady Stark to stay within the wing where the Queen and her children are residing, and a fast rider is sent after the King’s hunting party with news of what happened.

With the Queen’s affair with her brother out in the open Robert stops overlooking the obvious. He sees the Lannister hair and Lannister eyes and Lannister faces of Cersei’s children and realizes that even if one of them was his by some impossible chance, there would always be reasonable doubt. Forget making Ned his Hand, they’re going to have to hold a huge fucking farce of a trial to clear away Cersei’s mess. Bran gets questioned by Robert, and offered a reward for uncovering Cerise’s treachery. Bran asks for Jon to be made a Stark in name, and Robert promises that it’ll be done as soon as he gets back to King’s Landing. Jaime ban barely move for the weight of his chains, and is sent ahead to King’s Landing with half the Baratheon forces and a company of Dustin men, commanded by the the disapproving Lord Dustin himself. Cersei and her children are confined to the wheelhouse and Robert takes the rest of the Baratheon forces back South a handful of days later, along with a combination of Winterfell and Bear Island men. The only one who escapes mostly unharmed in the aftermath is Tyrion Lannister. Partially because it’s obvious that his sister hates him, and partially because of the various working women who can confirm that he was with them pretty much the entire time there wasn’t a feast obligating his attendance at Winterfell. House Reed swears to hold the Lannister men secure in Moat Cailin until the King sends for them, and they get moved in small groups to avoid any attempted breakouts after Robert leaves.

It’s a long trip South, and Noctis is glad that Monica, Crowe, and Libertus remained in Winterfell to take care of his Aunt and cousins. It doesn’t take long for Noctis to decide he hates the South. It’s hot and sticky and King’s Landing stinks the way the Scourge used to. Still, Robert needs Bran and Noctis there to testify at Cersei and Jaime’s trail, and Uncle Ned came along with them. So did Cor, Nyx, and Pelna. Petra went ahead with the white cloaked oathbreaker who tried to kill Bran and will meet them in the Red Keep. The ravens travelled fast, and there are Lords gathering in King’s Landing for a trial that’s going to go down in history as the biggest scandal since Lyanna Stark’s abduction.

Tywin Lannister is furious in a way he hasn’t been since his father let a commonborn whore wear Tywin’s mother’s jewellery. Each chambermaid who timidly came forward with stories of soiled sheets on nights where the King was nowhere in the Red Keep. The rest of the Kingsguard having to admit that Jaime took more than his fair share of turns standing guard outside the Queen’s door. The stone faces of the Northmen as the Stark boy Jaime tried to kill spoke his piece. The way the bastard of Winterfell snarled at Jaime when he explained catching his cousin after seeing Jaime throw him from the Tower window. The way the entire seven kingdoms are laughing at House Lannister. “So eager to have their blood on the Iron Throne that they think they’re Targaryens now.” Jaime and Cersei are convicted of treason, and beheaded. As the most offended party, Ned Stark is the one to swing the sword. Tywin Lannister is given custody of his distasteful grandchildren, and they end up in service to Casterly Rock. Myrcella and Tommen make the most of it, but Joffrey’s arrogance gets him “accidented” fairly quickly. Tywin’s more put out over the need to forgive the debt the crown owes House Lannister in reparation for the insult done to House Baratheon.

With so many Houses in attendance and trying to introduce their daughters and sisters to the now unwedded King, Noctis is thankful for Southron preoccupations with politics. It means he can escape with Bran to the Godswood while Cor helps Uncle Ned with managing the King. Noctis winces a little when he hears Cor comment to Nyx that Robert was “almost” as bad as Mors. It’s there in the Godswood with his direwolf that Noctis finds his friends again.

Bran likes Jon’s new friends. Samwell Tarly has lots of interesting stories to tell, and Domeric Bolton was another Northman who had been sent to witness the trial by his father and had come with the company of Lord Redfort. Bran knew the Boltons had scary stories told about them, even in the North, but Domeric was polite and was willing to answer all of Bran’s questions about being a knight. Gerold Dayne is the new Sword of Morning, and seems nice enough, and his little sister Irhys knew how to fight just like the Mormont girls did! They were all suitably impressed by Summer and Ghost, and asked Bran lots of questions about the North. They all really like Jon a lot too, and Bran isn’t surprised when even the Dornish siblings decide to come back to Winterfell with them when the Starks return North. (Jon’s a real Stark now! With the right name and everything! Bran did that for his cousin, made it happen! He’s so pleased with himself.)

Margary Tyrell manages to win the crown from the rest of the court ladies vying for Robert’s attention, and the wedding is suitably impressive. Noctis spends his time lounging in increasingly ridiculous locations around the Red Keep with his cousin and friends in an attempt to ease some of the stress. News comes in from the Free Cities about the exiled Targaryens, but without a dedicated agent in place keeping tack of them is difficult. Noctis a little curious about his other Aunt and Uncle, but puts them from his mind. It’s unlikely at this point that he’s ever going to get a chance to meet them.

They go home to the North, all of them plus additional guests, and leave the posturing of the South behind them. Much to all their relief. Then Jeor Mormont sends words of the dead rising to walk again and hunting the living, of the increasing desperation of the Wildlings, and the glimpses they’ve caught of the White Walkers approaching the Wall. Then a letter is sent to Winterfell from Pentos, sealed with a three-headed dragon, promising that the Oracle and her brother would fight the War against the Long Night in the name of the True King. The South takes the Game of Thrones to bloody extremes in the South, but in the North they are marshalling themselves for a war against the Night King.

Ned orders the Wildlings brought South of the Wall to keep the Others from adding their numbers to their Wright army. The Mountain Clans take the Free Folk in, gentling the shock of needing to adjust to the Laws the governed territory under Stark rule. Noctis goes into the crypts and returns with an ancient circlet, carved of weirwood and set with a single obsidian shard. It’s the Crown of Winter, and the Old Gods insist that the King in the North wear the sign of their favour. The North remembers, Ned murmurs, and takes the circlet into the Godswood. He stays there the whole night through, alone, and when he leaves he wears the Crown of Winter, with a full grown male direwolf padding at his side. Ah, I had wondered where the father was, Cor deadpanned, looks like he was waiting for you, my Lord.

The North is a Kingdom as large as all the other six combined, and they have never been ravaged as the Southern Kingdoms have been. Not by dragon fire, for their last King bent the knee without more than a token skirmish. Not by plague, thanks to the summer snows killing the diseases before they can travel and the isolated nature of their communities. Not by bandits, because there are no riches in the North but iron and fur. The North is the largest of the Seven Kingdoms, and yet it is the least often remembered. So the spears of Dorne go North, ship by ship, when Gerold Dayne sends word that the Long Night comes again, and the Others march on the Wall with an army of the dead. So the exiled Targaryen siblings take all their wealth and all their people and travel to the North to greet the King in the North, and thank him for his protection of their nephew. So the War for the Dawn has already begun by the time the South stops fighting one another long enough to realize that something is happening in the North.

It still takes Benjen Stark walking into a Grand Council meeting and slamming a wright’s head down in the middle of the table before the South realizes how serious things are. The North remembers, Benjen Stark snarls. This is why we hold the Wall. This is why there must always be a Stark in Winterfell! Send help, or don’t, but burn your dead and keep your pathetic game out of Northern affairs!

They win the War for the Dawn, of course, and the North knows no King but the King in the North, who’s name is Stark. The power of the Old Gods fills the North, mages call fire to hand, dragons fly above the Wall, and the night is filled with the howling of wolves.

#Sanjuno's ficwork #FFXV fanfic #GoT reincarnation crossovers

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trinuviel · 7 years ago

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Winterfell’s Daughter. On Sansa Stark (part 6)

This is the sixth part of my analysis of Sansa Stark’s character in Game of Thrones. (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5) and it concludes the analysis of Sansa Stark’s season 1 arc. This is where the story takes a turn against the Starks and where Sansa’s life becomes a nightmare.

LIFE IS NOT A SONG

In my last post, I showed how Sansa’s illusions about chivalry, court and love were restored after they had been undermined by the vicious behavior of Joffrey, Cersei and the Mountain. In the very same episode as Joffrey mendaciously woo Sansa with pretty words and a pretty necklace, Ned falls out with Robert over Daenerys Targaryen and decides to break off Sansa’s betrothal to Joffrey and leave King’s Landing (ep06). Unsurprisingly, Sansa doesn’t react well when Ned tells her and Sansa that they’ll return to Winterfell.

Sansa: I can’t go. I’m supposed to marry prince Joffrey. I love him and I’m meant to be his queen and have his babies.

This is where Ned utters this oft-quoted line:

Sansa: I don’t want someone brave, gentle and strong. I want him! He’ll be the greatest king that ever was, a golden lion, and I’ll give him sons with beautiful blonde hair.

Arya: The lion is not his sigil, idiot. He’s a stag, like his father.

Sansa: He is not. He’s nothing like that old drunk king.

Out of the mouth of babes… Sansa unwittingly gives Ned the key to the mystery that his predecessor Jon Arryn was investigating: The true parentage of Cersei Lannister’s children. Sansa sounds like a complete ninny-hammer in this scene. Once again, she’s got her head in the clouds, imagining herself the star of a Westerosi fairytale. I have already mentioned that it is a shame that the show has erased existence of the songs and romances that are part of the cultural fabric of Westeros because this literature informs Sansa’s views on romance and chivalry. This literature therefore serves as a context for her ideals and her behaviour. Let’s have a look at how part of the exchange between Sansa and Ned plays out in the book:

“Father, I only just now remembered, I can’t go away, I’m to marry Prince Joffrey.” She tried to smile bravely for him. “I love him, Father, I truly do, I love him as much as Queen Naerys loved Prince Aemon the Dragonknight, as much as Jonquil loved Ser Florian. I want to be his queen and have his babies. […] We’ll be ever so happy, just like in the songs, you’ll see…” (A Game of Thrones, Sansa III)

Sansa isn’t facing the reality of her relationship with Joffrey but is rather desperately trying to make it fit the shape of the stories she loves so much. However, Sansa doesn’t understand that the songs she loves so much leaves out or stylizes all the hardship and suffering that the characters go through. She thinks that Aemon the Dragonknight defending the virtue of Queen Naerys against slander is terribly romantic – and it is. However, she doesn’t understand is these epic romances that she adores dilute the grief, suffering and horror with pretty words and ear-catching verse. Sansa’s life may become the subject of songs and stories, but not in the way that her younger self imagined. It is a common theme in the books: that romanticism erases the suffering, the blood and the grief of the people and events that are immortalized in stories and songs. Life is not a song, but it can become the subject of songs: “We are all just songs in the end. If we are lucky”. Young Sansa wanted to live in a song – and she just might get her wish, but in the worst way possible.

THE LION’S “MERCY”

As noted above, Sansa’s little outburst about that “old drunk king” leads Ned to discover the truth: that Joffrey is the offspring of Cersei and Jaime Lannister’s incestuous affair. However, his handling of this explosive secret is disastrous. Not only does he inform Cersei that he knows her secret but he does so before getting his daughters safely out of King’s Landing. Thus, when Cersei acts against Ned and slaughters his household, both Sansa and Arya are targeted by the Lannister soldiers. Syrio Forel delays the attackers to facilitate Arya’s escape and Septa Mordane tries to do the same for Sansa though it fails. This unarmed woman stares down a bunch of soldiers with bloody swords, knowing that it most likely means her death and she doesn’t flinch. It is perhaps one of the bravest acts I’ve seen on the show.

Sansa is captured by the Hound and she is now completely alone and isolated in King’s Landing. Ned is in the Black Cells, Arya has escaped and the rest of the Stark household are dead. It is a frightened girl that is summoned before Cersei and the remainder of the Small Council (Varys, Pycelle and Baelish). They pull a good cop, bad cop routine in order to coerce Sansa into writing a letter to Robb Stark at Winterfell, begging him to travel to King’s Landing to bend the knee to Joffrey.

Varys: Your father has proved to be an awful traitor, dear.

Pycelle: King Robert’s body was still warm when Lord Eddard began plotting to steal Joffrey’s rightful throne.

Sansa: He wouldn’t do that! He knows how much I love Joffrey. He wouldn’t. Please, Your Grace, there’s been a mistake. Send for my father. He’ll tell you – the king was his friend.

On the surface, this reads like a very self-absorbed thing to say – and it is, to a certain extent. However, it also shows that Sansa believes that her father would never hurt her intentionally. In her mind, her father would never hurt her – he knows she loves Joffrey – losing Joffrey would hurt her – ergo: Ned would never work against Joffrey because it would hurt her. It is a superficial way to approach this whole situation but it also reveals that she has complete faith in her father’s love for her.

Maester Pycelle: She’s a sweet thing now, Your Grace, but in 10 years who knows what treasons she may hatch?

Sansa to Cersei: No I’m not. I’ll be a good wife to him, you’ll see. I’ll be a queen, just like you (oh, the irony!), I promise. I won’t hatch anything.

Cersei, Varys, Pycelle and Baelish manipulate her skillfully.

Baelish: The girl is innocent, Your Grace. She should be given a chance to prove her loyalty.

Cersei: Little Dove, you must write to Lady Catelyn and your brother. The eldest – what’s his name?

Sansa: Robb.

Cersei: Word of your father’s arrest will reach him soon, no doubt. Best it comes from you. If you would help your father, urge your brother to keep the King’s Peace. Tell him to come to King’s Landing to swear his fealty to King Joffrey.

Sansa: If I could see my father, talk to him…

Cersei: You disappoint me, child. We have told you of your father’s treason. Why would you want to speak to a traitor?

Sansa: I only meant that… What will happen to him?

Cersei: That depends.

Sansa: On… On what?

Cersei: On your brother. And on you.

Sansa is led to believe that Ned’s fate rests on her slender shoulders. She thinks that her father’s life is dependent on her actions, which most likely provides the impetus for the next action she undertakes. Sansa publically pleads for her father – on her knees in front of the Iron Throne.

It is unclear whether she does this of her own accord or whether Cersei and the Small Council are in on it. Regardless, it is a lovely piece of heartfelt theatre and it shows that Sansa quickly has become familiar with the conventions of the royal court as she is exploiting the system of the king petitions publically.

Sansa: All I ask is mercy. I know my lord father must regret what he did. He was King Robert’s friend and he loved him, you all know that he loved him. He never wanted to be Hand, until the King asked him. They must have lied to him, Lord Renly or Lord Stannis or somebody. They must have lied!

Joffrey: He said I wasn’t the king. Why did he say that?

Sansa: He was badly hurt. Maester Pycelle was giving him Milk of the Poppy. He wasn’t himself. Otherwise he never would have said it.

Once again, Sansa demonstrates her complete faith in her father’s innocence and honour. Most likely, she knows nothing about what really happened and tries to come up with her own explanation. She ends her plea with an appropriation of the language of Courtly Love:

Notice how her language changes at this point – it becomes formal, stylized. She is speaking a sentence that could come straight from one of the chivalric romances that she likes so much. Here she appeals to the conventions of Courtly Love whereby the lover should fulfill his lady’s wishes. Joffrey, in turn, knows this language and responds in kind:

Joffrey: Your sweet words have moved me. But your father must confess. He has to confess and say that I’m the king – or there’ll be no mercy for him.

However, where Sansa uses the language of Courtly Love in good faith, Joffrey operates in bad faith. Just as he did in the scene where he gifted her a necklace. To him the language and conventions of Courtly Love are empty words and gestures whereas they are very meaningful to Sansa. She has yet to understand that truth and honour are rare commodities at court. Here deceit and double-speak reigns supreme.

When the time comes, Joffrey’s mercy turns out to be no mercy at all! However, Sansa isn’t the only person who is blindsided when Joffrey calls for Ned’s head. Cersei, Varys and Pycelle’s reactions show that they, too, have been blindsided by Joffrey’s demand.

Sansa breaks down, screaming desperately for them to stop. She has to be restrained by an armed knight before she faints at the sight of her father’s headless body.

Unlike Arya, who is shielded from the sight of her Ned’s death by Yoren, Sansa is forced to watch her father die. This is the moment when the scales finally fall from her eyes. Throughout the season, Sansa has been willfully blind about Joffrey. It isn’t necessarily because she’s stupid but rather because she has constantly been told not to trust her own instincts. She was also purposely mislead by gestures and words designed to appeal to her romanticism. However, her final disillusionment is incredibly brutal and traumatic.

“HE CAN MAKE ME LOOK AT THE HEADS; BUT HE CAN’T MAKE ME SEE THEM”

Joffrey takes Sansa to the battlements of the Red Keep to show her the severed heads of her father and his household.

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I have chosen to title this section with a quote from the book because it encapsulates how Sansa adopts a strategy of passive resistance in the face of the emotional abuse that Joffrey inflicts on her. What does this distinction between “looking” and “seeing” mean? To look means to direct one’s gaze at something (what is being looked at). To see can mean the same thing but it can also imply to understand, recognize or comprehend something. So what does this mean in relation to this scene between Joffrey and Sansa? It could refer to Sansa’s tendency to compartmentalize and supress things that are traumatic to her. Let’s have a look at the passage that follows the quote above:

Sandor Clegane took the head by the hair and turned it. The severed head had been dipped in tar to preserve it longer. Sansa looked at it calmly, not seeing it at all. It did not really look like Lord Eddard, she thought; it did not even look real. “How long do I have to look?” Joffrey seemed disappointed. – A Game of Thrones, Sansa VI

The way that Sansa disassociate “looking” from “seeing” can be read as both a coping mechanism and a form of passive resistance. The whole situation is incredibly traumatic for her – her father was murdered before her eyes and she is alone among people she cannot trust. On top of that, she has to contend with Joffrey’s vicious nature. He only brought her to the battlement to enjoy her anguish. Sansa refuses him that pleasure by not giving any outward reaction.

Sophie Turner conveys Sansa’s passive resistance perfectly through a stoic, emotionless countenance and an inflectionless, almost “dead”, quality to her voice. There’s even a subtle defiance in the manner in which she raises her head to look – at Ned’s head, at Joffrey. At some level, Joffrey knows that she’s resisting but he can’t put a finger on it and thus he’s rendered impotent. He doesn’t get the reaction from her that he wants. He wants her tears and she refuses to give them to him.

When she refuses to show her anguish, Joffrey tries another tactic: threats against her brother Robb.

However, this backfires as well when Sansa replies:

Then she coldly stares him down, daring him to challenge her. Joffrey is flustered, he even takes a step back! Then, as the coward he is, he orders Ser Meryn to strike Sansa. A grown man, wearing gauntlets, slaps her around and she doesn’t make a sound!

Immediately after this, the camera work shows the audience that Sansa ponders the ultimate act of resistance: killing Joffrey by pushing him off the battlements. She even starts walking towards him. The only reason Joffrey doesn’t die that day is because the Hound intervenes with the pretext of wiping the blood off her face. Sansa herself is completely prepared to die with him, as the book says: “All it would take was a shove, she told herself. […] It wouldn’t even matter if she went over with him. It wouldn’t matter at all.”

The scene ends with Sansa standing on the battlements, alone. She lifts her gaze one last time, looking up at her father’s head, whilst she fights to hold back her tears. This gaze, I’d argue, is different than the “look, don’t see” approach she adopted earlier. With this final look, she is committing the crime of her father’s murder to memory. She’s reminding herself never to be deceived by Joffrey and the Lannisters again. This time, she won’t close her eyes to the truth.

Sansa is often criticized for being a passive character in King’s Landing. Many think her weak because she doesn’t resist violently. However, it is mistake to confuse helplessness with weakness! About his sister Lyanna, Eddard said: “You saw her beauty, but not the iron underneath.” The same can be said of Sansa. Strength and resistance come in many forms. Sansa is not a violent person, she is not physically strong and she has no weapons training. It is ridiculous to expect her to fight off a bunch of armored soldiers. It would simply get her killed. Sansa’s resistance is more subtle and it is psychological rather than physical. The scene with Joffrey on the battlements shows how Sansa employs two different forms of resistance to Joffrey’s cruelty:

Active, verbal resistance where she talks back. That leads to a beating at the hands of the King’s Guard.

Passive resistance where she outwardly complies but refuses to let Joffrey enjoy her pain by schooling her face and her voice into an impassive countenance.

These two options are the forms of resistance that she continues to employ whilst she’s a captive in King’s Landing – and as the seasons progress, we see how she adjusts this resistance to more sophisticated and subtly manipulative forms.

#game of thrones #sansa stark #character analysis #winterfell's daughter

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moonlitgleek · 7 years ago

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How do you think Robert would have reacted had Renly or Stannis brought their suspicious regarding Cersei to him? Do you think he would have believed them or tried to ignore the evidence? And how would he deal with Tywin if he did decide to kill his children and grandchildren?

Well, neither Stannis nor Renly are idiots; they would not go to Robert with some vague suspicions they had no way to corroborate - not necessarily because Robert wouldn’t believe them (and I don’t really believe that he wouldn’t even without an iron-clad case, despite what Stannis thinks. Robert might not have liked his brothers but he at least trusted them to have his back, and his confirmation bias against the Lannisters would have kicked in as well), but because they knew they needed evidence or at least a rather strong case to get the charges to stick legally. The whole situation did not just rely on Robert believing them: though he is the king and so his judgement is the highest indictment, that does not mean that he could throw the law out of the window and go kill his queen and one of his Kingsguard without having a compelling case to present to the nobility and the Faith, the two main pillars that support the authority of the crown.

I think any theory that assumes that Robert might ignore the evidence of Cersei and Jaime’s affair - drawing inspiration from him doing exactly that with Janos Slynt perhaps? - severely mischaracterizes Robert. The guy was foaming at the mouth because Cersei told him not to fight in the melee in public; he definitely is not going to ever let her get away with humiliating him, and publicly insulting and undermining his masculinity and authority: she cuckolded him with one of his own Kingsguard, attempted to usurp his throne and generally made a fool out of him. That’s not something that Robert would ever abide or brush away, especially with his deep hatred of Cersei. And that’s without taking into account the political ramifications of that politically-disastrous affair: Cersei’s affair is a significant hit to the young Baratheon dynasty; Robert came really close to letting the throne pass to a bastard born out of incest compromising the line of succession and threatening to destabilize the realm, something that reflects badly on his abilities as king; some might question how competent he is if his queen and Kingsguard managed to have their affair under his nose and pass their bastards as his trueborn heirs for 13 years. How can he be the Lord of the Seven Kingdoms if he can not even keep his own wife in check? How can he protect his vassals’ interests if he can not even protect his own damn throne? This paints Robert as weak and incompetent.

Don’t forget that this also exposes the rot in the Baratheon regime: Jaime was allowed to keep his post after killing Aerys based on Robert’s pardon, which compromised the Kingsguard as an institution in the eyes of many. Cersei was made queen to cement an alliance with Tywin Lannister, the man who sacked King’s Landing and got away with it on Robert’s decree. Is it really surprising that the people that Robert allowed to get away with serious–and destabilizing –crimes have now tried to usurp the crown?

The magnitude of Cersei and Jaime’s crimes - that is, treason, cuckoldry, attempted usurpation, incest, and the added oath-breaking of Kingsguard vows in Jaime’s case - necessitates a swift crackdown and punishment, not that Robert would need much incentive or even a political motivation: his response to the murder of Elia Martell and her children, and his furious fights with Ned over the fate of Daenerys in canon show that his vengeful drive was still alive and well even over a decade after killing Rhaegar. His fury would not stop at Jaime and Cersei but would encompass the rest of the Lannisters, as previous kings had done before him when they suspected their queens of adultery. Indeed history tells us of the awful fate of House Harroway that was completely extinguished by Maegor the Cruel based on the belief that Queen Alys Harroway had an affair that resulted in a deformed stillborn, and of how Aegon the Unworthy punished his mistress Bethany Bracken for her affair with Ser Terrence Toyne of the Kingsguard by executing Bethany and her father, and having Toyne tortured to death. Robert would go after the other Lannisters which really does not bode well for Tyrion with his residence in the Red Keep (or the rest of Lannisters in court: Lancel, Tyrek, etc). While I have hope that the combined efforts of Stannis and Jon Arryn might spare the children’s lives, I do not foresee anyone speaking up for Tyrion, or believing that he did not know about his siblings’ affair.

Of course Tywin would not take any of that lying down. This does not only lose him any political standing he might have hoped to gain - which is significant, going from expecting to see a half-Lannister king one day to having his golden twins declared unnatural and his grandchildren abominations, as the Faith would be quick to do - but it completely destroys the image, credibility and authority of House Lannister for years to come. The House that Tywin was obsessed with propping up and declaring supreme would become the laughing stock of Westeros: his daughter disparaged as a whore and a brother-fucker, his chosen heir disgraced and spit upon, and we know how Tywin feels about people laughing at him. And the thing is that he would not believe it; he’d think it a conspiracy by Stannis or Renly to seize the throne, or an excuse by Robert to get rid of Cersei, but he would not believe that his golden twins would ever do that. In his mind, it would have to be vile slander. I’d imagine the narrative from the Rock might just be that the Targaryen madness had manifested in Robert and that he was pulling an Aerys, or an Aegon the Unworthy, the latter of which invokes the history of the falsified charges mounted against Queen Naerys - and likens Cersei and Jaime to the pious Naerys and the esteemed Dragonknight respectively which is a useful political image to try and put out there, though I might be ascribing more levelheadedness to Tywin than he’d be able to exert in the situation because if there is one truth about Tywin Lannister, it’s that he reacts violently and often carelessly in his haste to stop the laughter.

Unfortunately for Tywin, he’d be surrounded and without any natural allies. He simply does not have the means to withstand the combined strength of the Baratheon-Stark-Arryn-Tully bloc, joined by the Tyrells in their eagerness to cast off the Lannisters and install Margaery as Robert’s queen as per their plot with Renly (while Doran and Oberyn Martell sit back and laugh their asses off at what’s happening.) With these odds, not even the shadow of Castamere would keep Tywin’s own vassals loyal, and his legacy would be exposed as decadent just a little earlier than in canon.

#asoiaf meta #robert baratheon #stannis baratheon #tywin lannister #cersei lannister #jaime lannister #renly baratheon #the lannister incest #what ifs #ask box #Anon asks

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buttercuparry · 7 years ago

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GoT Rant

I don't know why people use their own life stories to justify Sansa's and Arya's relationship. Mostly these people accuse us, Arya stans of potraying Sansa as "un-stark-like" or as "Satan" because supposedly we either don't have a sibling or don't understand how the relationship between siblings work and therefore hold this "childlike" grudge against Sansa. So do these people mean to imply that out of thousands or perhaps millions of Arya stans out there, none of us have siblings or have a understanding about how this relationship works? None of us have been the younger one or the elder one in that relationship? Or have had siblings with barely 2 years of age difference between us?

By Arya's own words Sansa was too dignified to bully her personally but Sansa also didn't do anything to stop Jeyne from bullying Arya. Also I don't remember correctly but there had been something along lines of her wishing Arya to be punished instead of Lady for something that Joffrey did. BTW Lady's death was neither Nymeria's nor Arya's fault. It was Joffrey's.

Also about referring to Sansa as "Satan", I don't think we have ever said that....and if we ever called Sansa "un-stark-like", I don't think it had anything to do with Arya being bullied. Do you guys remember that when Lady was sentenced to death, Arya did protest against it? Sansa on the other hand condemned Nymeria. And yes Sansa was just a child at the time of that debacle and also at the time when she trusted Cersei and told her about Ned's plan to escape KL. I'll admit that she had been too naive and had been brought up on those toxic songs of love to see clearly..... But her claiming that her father and sister to have traitor's blood while she herself to be pure of that blood has earned her a few side eyes.I think these kind of things made her being to be called as "un-stark-like". Yes, at that time she did think that Joff loved her and therefore had a plan to save Ned after her marriage to the prince but still it kind of felt.... weird? I guess?? Also I don't think all of us entirely mean these events when referring to Sansa's "Starkness" -> some of us merely mean to say that Lady's death chipped away a very small part of north within her and also her tutelage under Baelish is kind of opposite to that of the Starks. But that certainly doesn't mean that by the end of the story Alayne Stone won't once again be Sansa Stark. It was merely an observation made by some of us and nothing more. We didn't mean it as a slander to anyone.

#my rant in response to a post i saw just now

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reginarubie · 2 years ago

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If anything, Ned should be compared to Otto like these two dudes pushed their daughter to royalty for their own gain. At least Otto knows how to play the game, Ned just placed Sansa in the pit of vipers without any protection and lol haters still hate her for causing Ned to die? What 😆

Cia’ anon,

If you truly think the load of bullsh*t you have written you might have not paid attention neither to the series neither to the books. But, in good faith you truly are misconstruing I will explain my point of view.

Ned Stark did not want to go South, dude was traumatised by the South, and had refused Bobby B offer the moment it was uttered (pertaining both his naming to lord Hand and the marriage between Joffrey and Sansa). It’s Catelyn who convinces him of the need of him to go South to discover the truth after Lysa’s allegations became known about the death of Jon Arryn and thus accept Robert’s proposal.

Also, they betrothed, to be married when Sansa was old enough, a girl of 11 to a boy of 13/14. Also they betrothed a prince (not a king) to the daughter of the Warden of the North, who was one of the few eligible candidates for Joffrey’s hand.

Which is very much different than Viserys/Alicent both in the book and in the show (by book canon Alicent was 18 and Viserys almost 30, still big age gap but acceptable for the context… whilst in the show they gave us a forty something man and a girl of 16-18) in both cases Alicent/Viserys have a bigger age gap than Sansa/Joffrey and also a big gap in the experiences they led. Also Alicent was not near enough the best eligible match for Viserys, tho others would have been every worse on other aspects.

Viserys was a man grown, married already once and with a child and several failed pregnancies or children dead on his shoulders, whilst Alicent was a maiden of barely 18. Sansa and Joffrey were both very young, a teen and a very young teen (last of the pre-teen years) and inexperienced in the same way.

So no there is no bloody similarity between the match Otto brokered between Alicent and Viserys and the one Ned accepted between Sansa and Joffrey.

Also, the moment Ned realised the truth, and I mean the very same moment, he works to get his daughters (both of them) out of KL which meant breaking the betrothal between Sansa and Joffrey and he tells her as much, promising her a match worth of her. And he failed, dude failed so fucking hard, because he told Cersei expecting she rolled over and died, and let her children be haunted and robbed of what she feels is their birthright. He alerted his enemies of his future moves and they anticipated him and incapacitated him.

Also, Sansa had no part in Ned’s imprisonment or death. Or, what little part she had (little and almost completely non influential in the matter of things) was caused by Ned himself, as I have explained in the blaming game part II .

Ned went in a nest of vipers himself, he did play his cards wrong but dude had a goal in mind his whole life after the Rebellion. He did not play the game with the throne in mind, he played the game with the safety of his family in mind. He tells Catelyn to return North and prepare for war, to defend his people and his family.

And yeah, Ned played his cards wrong, but dude got one goal and he reached it. To this day no one but Howland Reed knows the truth about Jon’s parentage, hence the boy is safe. He swallowed his pride and honour to try and save Sansa.

Of the six children Ned Stark raised in his home, four are currently alive and kicking, laying low and sharpening their weapons to return for justice (Sansa in the Vale sharpening her wit and natural political suavity; Arya in Braavos learning to be a Faceless Assassin and learning the difference between vengeance and justice; Bran beyond the Wall honing his skills as green seerer and warg and never forgetting his duty; Rickon on a cannibal island with unicorns gathering better knowledge of people different from him and how to work together; Jon learned how to manipulate the situation he finds himself in to do his duty and gathering support against the enemies around them) and let’s count also Jon since we know he’s to be resurrected, so to six, he has five children ready to come back for justice and defend the North and do their duty.

In the game of thrones, you always claim half a victory. Robert got the throne but lost the woman he gained it for, Ned got most of his family alive but they are traumatised, Catelyn got to return and have vengeance for her family but it’s all an illusion and she lost herself completely…) there is no clear winning in the game of thrones. Bran got his skills but lost his legs, Sansa learned how to survive but she lost almost everything, same as Arya. Bran and Sansa got the throne, but Bran possibly in the books will get it after he sacrifices his powers and thus the ability to move permanently; Sansa became queen in the North but lost her dream (for now), Daenerys got the throne for a moment and she lost herself and everything; Cersei got the throne but lost all she cared for.

Yes, Ned could’ve played his cards better, he should have, much of his downfall was caused by his own stupid mistakes, but stop the slander.

If anyone is like Otto, that is Olenna Tyrell, who manipulated to get her granddaughter to marry a king she knows is gay so won’t make her happy to further her family’s position and later she chose another king whom she killed to get her granddaughter betrothed to a child who is more easily manipulated. Let’s say the truth:

Olenna and the Tyrells try to use Margaery apparent resemblance to Lyanna Stark to have Cersei exposed and Margaery married. Robert, a man who could be her father, also known to have a great number of bastards all so Margaery would become queen.

Bobby B died and Olenna and the Tyrells married Margaery to Renly who, again was pretty much older than her and gay, all because this way Margaery would be queen.

Renly died and the Tyrells betrothed her to Joffrey a king known for his cruelty and rumoured to be a bastard, all so that Margaery would be queen.

They killed Joffrey off (Joffrey who was around her age, so a possible good match for her, had he not been a cruel boy) because he would’ve been cruel and unstable and not easily influenced, and betrothed her to Tommen whom she basically starts to groom, who is a child and who has little to none experience whilst Margaery is older and more experienced. All because so Margaery could be queen to a king who would be easily influenced by her.

So, if anyone should be compared to Otto we have LF and especially Olenna and the Tyrells, certainly not Ned Stark whom as soon as he realised the truth decided to break off the betrothal and get his daughter back home, and who, again had betrothed his daughter to a boy around her age (perfectly acceptable for time and context) and who was a good match for the context and time and who was not far more experience than her by what he knew. And, as soon as the boy cruelty started to be seen, his bastardy was known and the truth of the war that would happened set into his mind Ned moved to get his daughter back home where she would’ve been safe, he just played his cards wrong.

And that is the truth we get by analysing both books and series. So, yes, if you truly believe what you’ve written I think you need a re-read and a re-watch.

Also, (dis)honourable mention to Corlys Velaryon who was a 37man marrying a 16yo princess for her position and because she fell in love with him, and supported Rhaenyra who was suspected of having played a part in his son’s death and her bastard children by another man all for his ambition by betrothing his true born granddaughters to them to get House Velaryon on the Iron throne permanently. As suggested by anon, here.

But, thank you for the ask (it was good to set straight a couple of points) and please stop it with the Ned Stark slander. It doesn’t make you look good to say things so easily disproved!

I hope you have a very nice day! ~G.

#stop it with the Ned Stark slander #brutally honest opinions #the hag’s brutally honest opinion #Ned Stark #ask the hag #anon asks #brutally honest opinion asoiaf edition

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