#tormund's wedding

[eddieheart]

Y’know what’s sad. The fact that Jon Snow could’ve left the watch to save Robb, but probably wouldn’t have been able to actually save him.

He had to leave Robb and go beyond the wall to become the man that could’ve saved Robb.

[wparker6804]

[weirwoodsugar]

(at a wedding) cool, cool, mazel tov, don't fuck it up. so do you wanna talk inventory?

(still at a wedding) btw if you run out of food the old people could kill themselves maybe. no i dont want to dance get real

[cdragons]

❄︎ House Stark & Spicy Food ❄︎ - w/ spicy loving reader

Cries if there's too much pepper:

All of them, Sansa and Robb - these two will actually die if they have the slightest sense of heat to any food they try. Like their hair, they get it from their mother.

Robb will try so hard to pretend that he has any spice tolerance...he doesn't...he REALLY doesn't

This boy wants to impress you so badly while also dying and you are not being very helpful bc you keep laughing at how red his face gets

You didn't even put that much in, it was barely a dash of cayenne or one jalapeno seed and he will DIE

If you ever try to put spice in his dishes, he will look at you with the biggest look of betrayal

Redding Wedding what? Nope, the real, most unforgivable act of treason against this King of the North was putting a ghost pepper in his stew after he pissed you off and drinking all his water to make sure that there wasn't any left near him.

Are the two of you married? Does not matter - off to the dungeons with you.

Okay, not really, but he will be seriously pissed and have a huge pouty face for the rest of the week.

He feels even more betrayed when he sees Grey Wind sleeping next to you after you put the pepper in his food.

"Are you on my side or hers?" - Grey Wind is on Team Cuddles and Being Spoiled.

If you end up eating something too spicy for you, he WILL be the most insufferable person about it

Sansa is literally no different, if not worse, than her brother.

Everything that was written above -> multiply that by 10000 in terms of spice intolerance, and you get Sansa.

She does NOT care about impressing you with improving her spice tolerance.

You could try to convince her that spicy food is better for her body and there are a ton of health benefits, but you will FAIL

You once gave her a Cubanelle pepper (About 1,000 SHU) bc the only less spicy option was a bell pepper and bell peppers are only peppers in name and not in spirit

She did not react well

She RAN 🏃‍♀️ to the well and drank the water out of the pail.

...Was it bad that you laughed at her reaction? Yes

Would you do it again? Also, yes

Was it totally worth being banned from nighttime cuddles and kisses for an entire month?...Okay, maybe you won't do it again

You could make fun of her unseasoned potatoes and closer-to-water soup all you want. She is not interested in damaging her stomach lining and developing stomach cancer.

She WILL make fun of you if you end up eating something too spicy for YOU, and you let her because you love seeing her more childish smile and side.

Slightly Dying, but Otherwise Okay and Kind of Digs It:

Jon can eat spicy foods...theoretically.

He's eaten Wilding food and the rotten food from Castle Black -> compared to that, he can take a little heat.

He was wrong - He was so very, VERY wrong. Your level of heat and spice was something that only a demon could take.

Jon was convinced that you were part dragon bc he can't think of any other reason as to how and WHY you put yourself through this?

Eventually, he DOES develop a bit of spice tolerance, and you take full credit for it, especially because this means his taste palette is more on your level. You aren't as afraid of accidentally killing him with your cooking preferences.

But it ends up lowkey backfiring on him bc you won't stop sneaking spicy food into his meals, and sometimes Tormund and his brothers in Black will sneak a bite off his plate (no one died...everyone lives...shhhhhhhhh)

Sam is dead - he died, you killed him. Gilly is officially out for your blood, and little Sam is raised with the single goal of piercing you with a pointy stick bc you killed his dad.

Pyp and Edd are also lowkey dying. Still, they actually enjoy the heat and are always happy to taste test for your dishes...despite their bowels hating them for it

Grenn and Tormund fucking LOVE the heat. They can easily down bowl after bowl after bowl of your cooking.

Bran SHOULD not eat spicy food...but he does because it makes you so happy, and he will literally do anything for your smile and cuddles.

Like his love of climbing and scary stories, he honestly lives for the thrill of taking the heat.

All of his siblings are terrified he's going to get a stomach ulcer one day because he keeps adding more spice to his food, and they are ALL blaming you, and you're just like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

While he's traveling with Osha, Hodor, Rickon, and Reed Siblings, it's your cooking that helps keep them warm.

When he becomes the Three-Eyed Raven and King of the Seven Kingdoms, he and you will go to the kitchens to make your favorite dishes from your shared past because it brings a little of the old Bran back.

It's only around you that he can still smile and laugh, and you love him no matter what.

Love Spicy Food and Can ACTUALLY Take it

Arya LOVESSSSS the heat - All Day, Everyday Baby

While she was in Braavos and training in the House of Black and White, she sampled so many dishes and spices from the markets.

This opened a whole new world to her tastebuds, and when she returned to Winterfell - she still loved the food because it was all the food of her childhood, but it just tasted...boring.

You and her actually met while she was training in Braavos, and your family ran a spice stall in one of the markets.

You were fascinated by the girl and always offered a warm meal and housing if she ever needed it. While cooking for her, Arya would tell you stories about Ned and Jon and all her other siblings.

When she reunited with her family at Winterfell, she thought it was adorable how happy and excited you were to meet them. She also highly encouraged you to share one of your spiciest dishes with them.

Bran didn't have much of a reaction save for a small cough, but Jon immediately reached for his water while Sansa just fainted from the shock of the heat assault in her mouth.

Rickon is the only sibling who can actually eat your food and so he automatically becomes your favorite Stark after Arya.

Rickon and you met while traveling with your siblings (Meera and Jojen) to find Bran. You carried many foreign spices with you (for whatever reason).

Immediately, he was smitten with you because you were the youngest sibling around his age. Shaddydog also loved you from the beginning, which helped your case.

A lot of the spices you carried also had medicinal purposes, so you were in charge of cooking while Meera handled the weapons and Jojen helped guide Bran to the 3ER.

It was during the coldest and most freezing blizzard nights, you used one of your hottest spices to make a stew. It was a miracle by fate that Rickon LOVED it.

Since then, he's always begging you to put hotter spices in the meals, but you refuse bc your spices are expensive and because you don't want to accidentally kill the rest of the "Save The World" Gang.

Shaddydog is a huge issue when you're making food because he's very curious about all the different smells and tastes, and you have to keep booping his nose out of the way because you love adding garlic, and it's not good for canines to eat garlic and salt.

*BONUS*

Catelyn - cannot eat anything spicy for the life of her

Ned - same as his wife, tbh lol

[daenerysoftarth]

personally I like to think that, amongst the nights watch slash stannis’ army when they finally get there, jon snow has a big reputation for being a whore. getting up naked in the baths and just walking out angry on alliser thorne and whatshisface while naked as his nameday. hooked up with a wildling girl beyond the wall, and now both the wildling princess and old man warrior are flirting with him like crazy in front of everyone (aka val makes barely concealed threats and tormund is constantly talking about his penis). made satin his personal assistant and the first question whatshisface has is ‘are y’all fucking.’ now alys karstark rolls up in a wedding dress and asks for jon snow personally and everyone sees them giggling together during her wedding that jon arranged? and the rizz he has is unbelievable, as sam will personally tell you

[megsironthrone]

The Wildling and the Lady

Based on this request:  Hey! Hope i’m not too late. How about one where the reader is a Tully and she escapes the Red Wedding. She ends up travelling for a bit, she ends up at the Wall looking for Jon as they were friendly and she meets Tormund who is taken by her (maybe he likes her Tully red hair or her survival or something) and he’s surprised she’s a Lady

Here you are, lovelies! *Familiar characters are NOT mine!*

Warnings: Fluff, brief mentions of the Red Wedding (no details)

Pairings/Characters: Tormund Giantsbane x fem!Tully reader, Jon Snow, Samwell Tarly

A sigh escaped your lips as the cold began seeping into your bones once more. You'd lost track of how long you'd been traveling and you were certain you looked a fright. When you'd first fled from The Twins after what had happened with your aunt and cousin, you had no idea where to go. You'd simply wanted to get away. You'd used the only bit of gold you'd had to buy a bow. After that, you kept moving. As you traveled further and further North, the air grew colder and game grew sparser. You were near freezing and starving, but you weren't going to stop.

         Even through it all though, you couldn't fight the relief that coursed through you when you saw the Wall. Yes, you were a woman, but you had family there and maybe he could help you. You didn't despise Jon the way your aunt had. In fact, you were on pretty friendly terms with him. You only hoped he could help you now. If only for a little while.

         The gated opened and Jon ran to you with a soft smile. As soon as you slid off your horse, you wrapped your arms around him. "I thought you'd died with Robb." You shook your head. "No. I was able to escape. No one paid much attention to me. I tried to convince Robb to leave, but you knew your brother." Jon nodded sadly.

         "I know I shouldn't be here, but I had nowhere else to go. Nowhere safe anyway." Jon gave you a soft smile before gesturing to someone behind him. Two men approached you and Jon. The first was dark-haired and was a bit bigger round the middle than his companions. He looked like he would give the best hugs, honestly. But it was the second that really caught your eye. Tall, red of hair, with blue eyes that told you he was capable of mischief you never dreamed of. He looked positively wild and it intrigued you.

         You greeted them both with a smile. Then you turned back to Jon. "Where is your companion?" he asked you. You felt the tall one's eyes on you as you replied, "Since when have I ever needed a companion? Besides I have no one left. I made my way here by myself." Jon rolled his eyes, but smiled anyway. "Of course you did. You can stay in my chambers with Ghost until we can find somewhere suitable. I know you can take care of yourself, but I'd rather know you are safe." You nodded. You knew it was pointless to argue.

         "Jon?" the dark-haired man asked. "Oh, right. Sam, Tormund, this is Lady Y/N of House Tully. Lady Catelyn's niece." You scoffed a little. "Y/N is fine. I don't care much for my title." You let your gaze fall on the red-haired man once more only to find him staring at you so intensely, it made you shiver.

         You could feel his eyes on you as Jon led you inside. "Is that man a Wildling?" you asked Jon once you were inside. Jon smirked a bit and nodded. "Yes. Tormund Giantsbane. As fierce and loyal as they come, and also as wild. He's one of the Free Folk and proud of it. Looks frightening but means well." You didn't bother telling him that "frightened" was not what you felt when Tormund looked at you. Not in the slightest.

Tormund's POV

         The next morning, Tormund rose early and made his way out into the cold courtyard of Castle Black. The first thing he noticed was the sound of someone training. Confused as he was usually the only one awake this time of morning, the Wildling made his way over. The next thing he noticed was Ghost sitting just outside the sparring ring. He thought it must be Jon up then.

         To his surprise, when Tormund's gaze finally landed on the other person up so early, it wasn't Jon. It was you. You were moving with such speed and grace, Tormund couldn't help but be impressed. You certainly didn't act like any lady he'd ever met before.

         "Are you going to stand there staring? Or are you going to join me?" your voice asked, pulling Tormund from his thoughts. You had stopped moving and were watching him with a raised brow. "These practice dummies offer no challenge, but surely you could," you challenged as a smirk spread across your lips. Tormund chuckled. "Ya sure ya want to be doing that?" You shrugged a bit which only caused Tormund's own smile to grow. "Alright then. Have yer way." Without giving you a chance to retort, Tormund lunged.

         The two of you became intertwined in a dance of clashing steel. Back and forth you went, moving so quickly you were almost a blur. Tormund had to admit he'd met his match in you and he was loving every moment of it. Still, you weren't nearly as experienced as Tormund was so you found yourself on your backside. You beamed up at him as you struggled to catch your breath.

         "Thank you," you said simply once you could breathe again. Tormund offered a hand to help you up. You took it, but didn't expect him to use quite as much strength to pull up which was obvious at your gasp as your chest met his. To Tormund's delight, you didn't look uneasy or embarrassed. Instead you let out a little chuckle before saying, "I wouldn't mind if you joined me again tomorrow."

         "As the lady wishes." His tone was teasing and you seemed to know it. You rolled your eyes before backing away. "I look forward to it." You walked away while Tormund's eyes followed your form. "I like," he muttered to himself. If anyone looked at him in that moment, they would have seen the Wildling practically staring at you with hearts in his eyes.

(a/n: I hope you like it!)

Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard​ @brewsthespirit-blog​ @line-viper​ @etherealpotter​ @frozenhuntress67​ @cd1242​ @smalltownbigheart​ @gruffle1​ @supernatural4life2022​ 

[taereaderwriter]

Game of Thrones - Recommendations

Sador ‘The Hound’ Clegane

The Hound and the Vulture (ongoing?) - @summervale

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

P1 note: Third person reader-insert! A wandering widow and a wanted warrior. They're no "The Bear and the Maiden Fair," but they're close enough, right? After saving his life, the scavenger is half tempted to sell him out and half tempted to have her way with him. The dog is half tempted to throw her in the Trident and half tempted to throw her in the Blackwater Rush. 

if he’s as bad as they say, then i guess i’m cursed (complete) - @diorstarr

Part 1 | Part 2

Summary: It starts like most bad things do. Because Joffrey finds it funny. Or, you get married to The Hound. 

Love? (complete) - @justallamaimaginingthings

“A/n: That was not even requested, but after 8x05 I needed some Sandor fluff, so there you go. Hope you enjoy it and don’t hesitate to drop by my askbox whether it is to request anything, leave a comment or just to chat”

Sandor Clegane x Reader (Wildling) (complete) - @lunnybunny12

“A/N: The reader is a wildling in this story and has never heard of the hound before.”

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of death and no fluff

Listen to me (complete) - @myfictionaldreams

Request: “The reader is a fighter an she almost gets killed in battle but sanders saves her once the battle is over he finds her in her room and they get into an argument that leads to rough smut with biting marking and dirty talk if you don’t mind”

The Hound’s Wedding (complete) - @myfictionaldreams

Summary:  King Joffrey needed a way to send a message to your brothers in Winterfell. What better way than marrying you off to the bloodthirsty Hound.

Warnings: +18 readers only, Loss of Virginity, Size Kink, Reader is a Stark, Size Difference, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex

The Teasing Game (complete) - @myfictionaldreams

Summary: There was nothing you loved more in life than teasing Sandor Clegane. What happens when he can’t take it anymore and he finally snaps?

Warnings: 18+ readers only, smut, teasing, size difference, jeaousy, mentions of masturbation, choking, biting, marking, rough oral sex (male receiving), rough sex, multple orgasms, dirty talk, hair pulling, threats of violence

Sandor Clegane/ The Hound NSFW Alphabet (complete) - @brrahbrrahcharacterimagines

The Lamb and The Hound (complete) - @brrahbrrahcharacterimagines

Part 1 | Part 2

P1 Warnings: Light attempted rape mentioned (not by Sandor), Battle of Blackwater, fire mention

P2 Warnings: Sex, Dom(M)/Sub(F) dynamic, maybe a size kink, sharing a bed, boner?, cursing, loss of virginity, possessiveness, breeding kink, cum

Tormund Giantsbane

Cold Hands (complete) - @author-morgan

Summary: After the Battle of Castle Black, Jon needs someone to ensure their wildling prisoner makes it through the night. Because Tormund's the type you just want to rage fuck and I've been looking for an excuse to write for him since like 2017.

Lord Robin Arryn

Grown Up (complete) - @brrahbrrahcharacterimagines

Chapters

[thelustybraavosimaid]

The wargs were the most numerous in that company, the wolf-brothers, but the boy had found the others stranger and more fascinating. Borroq looked so much like his boar that all he lacked was tusks... (Prologue, ADwD)

--

"The lad's a warg, or close enough," put in Ragwyle, the big spearwife. "His wolf took a piece o' Halfhand's leg."

The Weeper's red rheumy eyes gave Jon another look. "Aye? Well, he has a wolfish cast to him, now as I look close.[...]" (Jon I, ASoS)

--

He had known what Snow was the moment he saw that great white direwolf stalking silent at his side. One skinchanger can always sense another. (Prologue, ADwD)

--

Amongst the riders came one man afoot, with some big beast trotting at his heels. A boar, Jon saw. A monstrous boar. Twice the size of Ghost, the creature was covered with coarse black hair, with tusks as long as a man's arm. Jon had never seen a boar so huge or ugly. The man beside him was no beauty either; hulking, black-browed, he had a flat nose, heavy jowls dark with stubble, small black close-set eyes.

"Borroq." Tormund turned his head and spat.

"A skinchanger." It was not a question. Somehow he knew.

...

The skinchanger stopped ten yards away. His monster pawed at the mud, snuffling. A light powdering of snow covered the boar's humped black back. He gave a snort and lowered his head, and for half a heartbeat Jon thought he was about to charge. To either side of him, his men lowered their spears.

"Brother," Borroq said. (Jon XII, ADwD)

-----------

In the dark, the direwolf's red eyes looked black. He nuzzled at Jon's neck, silent as ever, his breath a hot mist. The wildlings called Jon Snow a warg, but if so he was a poor one. He did not know how to put on a wolf skin, the way Orell had with his eagle before he'd died. (Jon III, ADwD)

--

The gift was strong in Snow, but the youth was untaught, still fighting his nature when he should have gloried in it. (Prologue, ADwD)

--

Marsh hesitated. "Lord Snow, I am not one to bear tales, but there has been talk that you are becoming too…too friendly with Lord Stannis. Some even suggest that you are…a…"

A rebel and a turncloak, aye, and a bastard and a warg as well. Janos Slynt might be gone, but his lies lingered. (Jon III, ADwD)

--

"Wolves and women wed for life," Haggon often said. "You take one, that's a marriage. The wolf is part of you from that day on, and you're part of him. Both of you will change."

--

Perched above the window, the Old Bear's raven peered down at him with shrewd black eyes. My last friend, Jon thought ruefully. And I had best outlive you, or you'll eat my face as well. Ghost did not count. Ghost was closer than a friend. Ghost was part of him. (Jon III, ADwD)

--

Jon smelled Tom Barleycorn before he saw him. Or was it Ghost who smelled him? Of late, Jon Snow sometimes felt as if he and the direwolf were one, even awake. The great white wolf appeared first, shaking off the snow. A few moments later Tom was there.

...

Ghost nuzzled up against his shoulder, and Jon draped an arm around him. He could smell Horse's unwashed breeches, the sweet scent Satin combed into his beard, the rank sharp smell of fear, the giant's overpowering musk. He could hear the beating of his own heart. When he looked across the grove at the woman with her child, the two greybeards, the Hornfoot man with his maimed feet, all he saw was men. (Jon VII, ADwD)

[liaa--qb]

"WRONG DECISION" (part ll)

[ Dark yan (male) Arya x Daenerys

WARNINGS : DUB con, possessive, Dark, Yandere (male) Arya, obsession, manipulation, fingering, oral, explicit, cheating, angst

Summary : Daenerys arrives at Winterfell to rule with John but things may not go well planned as her strange brother in law takes some special interest in her, extremely special interest.

PART 2

(Would appreciate likes and share ❤️ btw I literally fancast harry gilby too for this😅 what do you think)

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

Later Dinner progressed at a leisurely pace, and, thankfully, this time, John was by Dany's side. Laughter filled the air as Tormund shared humorous stories, while John's friends regaled the gathering with tales of their adventures in different places. The atmosphere was convivial, and many of the court's wives approached Dany to engage her in conversation, much to her surprise.

It seemed that things were not as challenging as she had initially feared, and perhaps, in time, they might improve even more. Sansa, however, appeared to be missing someone, evident in her restless gaze as she scanned the room and inquiring about something. Dany took notice of her and inquired, "What's the matter, Sansa? Is there a problem?"

Sansa responded with a brief smile, "No, it's just... Arya isn't present. I know it's not your concern, Your Grace. He rarely misses dinner. As his older sister, I trust you understand..."

Dany had repeatedly asked Sansa to address her by her name or simply as a sister-in-law, without the need for the formal titles, but Sansa had always maintained her overly formal tone. Only John seemed to be comfortable enough to use Dany's regular name, a fact that left her wishing Sansa would drop the formality and greet her as her sister.

"Oh, don't worry, he may be occupied with some matters. If I come across him after dinner, I'll ask him to meet you," Dany reassured Sansa with a sweet tone, her hand resting gently on Sansa's. "And there's no need for formalities with me, as I've mentioned before. I'm going to be a part of your family after my wedding with John, so I have to care for Arya as well as for all of you," she added with a warm smile.

It was true; Arya was conspicuously absent. He rarely missed these gatherings, regardless of how busy he was during the day. In fact, for the past four days, he had always been present. Dany found herself dwelling on their session earlier in the day, and this reflection made her cheeks flush. She quickly dismissed these thoughts. How could she shift her focus from caring about Arya's safety to something... something that was quite inappropriate for her to entertain ?

Unbeknownst to her, Dany's gaze had wandered in the same direction as Jorah's, though she looked down immediately upon realizing this. With dinner drawing to a close, Jorah finally approached her. "Are you well, Khaleesi?" he inquired.

Dany managed a forced smile, making it seem like everything was fine and that she hadn't been lost in thought of her brother in law though Jorah appeared somewhat hesitant, a rare pause in his conversations with her. He continued, "I hope you are getting along with the people of the North. If there is anything or anyone bothering you, you can always confide in me. You know that, right?"

Dany chuckled lightly and replied with a soft tone, assuming Jorah had been alarmed by her earlier demeanor, "No, Ser. Everything is fine here, and I'm genuinely enjoying my time."

Then, Jorah gently requested, "Khaleesi, if you don't mind, I know I'm asking my queen, but may I have a private walk with you? We haven't had the chance to talk since we arrived here." A warm smile adorned his face.

Dany felt a pang of sadness as she realized she had to decline his offer, as she had already made plans with John for some quality time together. She couldn't let this opportunity slip by, considering John's busy schedule. She did, however, feel regretful about declining Jorah's sweet request, knowing how deeply he cared for her.

 "I apologize, Ser Jorah, but not today, as John and I need to discuss some important matters, particularly concerning the family. I really wished to accompany you, but John mentioned this is the only time he's available. I hope you understand, and I had no other choice." A hint of disappointment was evident in Jorah's eyes, so Dany hastened to add, "But we will certainly make time tomorrow. You, Missandei, and I will spend some quality time together. I promise."

"and I thought my queen wanted to spend more time with the Northerners and her new family. That's sad," At this, Arya's cold voice suddenly cut through, taking both of them by surprise. His voice laced with chilly disapproval, his long coat and a dagger at his side, hands neatly folded behind his back, and the customary straight-backed posture giving him a formidable appearance

"Prince Arya!" Dany gasped, taken aback by his sudden appearance. "You nearly gave me a fright."

Arya couldn't help but wear a sly smirk as he strolled closer. "Then I'd recommend getting used to it, my queen."

Dany couldn't help but notice the lack of warmth in Jorah's expression when he looked at Arya, and she couldn't help but wonder if their previous evening activity had something to do with it.

"So where did my queen wish to spend her time?" Arya inquired, standing beside Dany and glancing between her and Jorah. Dany couldn't help but notice how even his formal tone sounded more like a directive or a mere statement.

"Ser Jorah wished to spend some time with me," Dany began, her voice carrying enthusiasm. "You know, we haven't had the chance for a proper conversation since our arrival. The journey was taxing for all of us, and a leisurely stroll around Winterfell just wasn't feasible today. It will have to wait until tomorrow."

"Is that so, Ser Jorah?" Arya quizzically turned his gaze to Jorah with a straight face. "If you desired a private tour of Winterfell, you could have taken anyone. I would have happily provided a servant for your convenience. Shall I?"

Jorah met Arya's gaze unwaveringly replying"I wished to spend some time alone with Dany, like in the old days. We have important matters to discuss, particularly regarding her safety."

Arya paused, considering this. "But I thought she had planned another training session for tomorrow, which might take a considerable amount of time. I had planned to take Sansa, Bran, and her for a family outing, as my brother suggested she desires more family time." His voice held a hint of inquiry.

In that moment, Jorah cast a defeated and resigned look towards Dany, seemingly at a loss for words. Dany, attempting to defuse the tension and find a middle ground, offered a solution, saying, "No problem, Ser Jorah can join us as well." She turned her gleaming eyes toward Arya and continued, "Believe me, Prince Arya, he is like family to me. We share an exceptionally close bond, so why not include him?"

Arya, though he gave a nod, still held a challenging expression. He appeared unhappy with the decision but refrained from voicing any opposition.

"Please forgive my curiosity, but is this related to concerns about your safety, my queen?" Arya asked with a small, bemused smirk. "I mean, if that's the case, Ser Jorah, you can freely enjoy your time. When I'm with her, you don't need to worry, especially about her safety," he asserted with a sharp tone, his gaze fixed directly upon Jorah. "Her safety and well-being are now my responsibilities."

For a moment, they locked eyes, with Jorah appearing to have some unresolved issue with Arya. Dany had grown accustomed to Jorah's behaviour after spending considerable time with him.

Dany couldn't help but feel it was unjust to regard Jorah as merely another random soldier, even though Arya's intentions might not have been harmful. Jorah's loyalty ran deep, and he deserved respect equivalent to his commitment. She believed he shouldn't be discarded repeatedly, especially when his request was so modest. "No, Arya, please pardon me, but I cannot change my decision. I made a promise to Ser Jorah," Dany replied to Arya with sweetness, hoping that he would comprehend her stance.

Just then, John and Sansa joined them, their faces reflecting curiosity. Sansa exclaimed, "Arya, you came late for dinner!"

Arya explained, "Yes, I was just finishing up some work, sister. Oh, John, I need to discuss something with you. I'm glad I found you soon enough." He nodded towards John, whose arm was draped around Dany. John and Arya decided to step aside for a private conversation, with Dany grabbing John's collar for a parting kiss. Both Dany and John exchanged happy, loving glances before parting. John kissed her hand and spoke in a low, gentle voice, "I will come." With a reassuring pat on her cheek, he finally walked away with Arya.

Jorah stood still, wearing an expression of complete boredom. Sansa chimed in, "I hope Arya didn't bother you too much. Sometimes he's quite rough with his ideas and peculiarities, but there are moments when he behaves perfectly normal." She smiled briefly while glancing at both Dany and Jorah.

Dany nodded in agreement. "Of course, I can understand. We are new here, so it's natural for us not to grasp his intentions and words at times. But I can see he's young and quite sensible. How old is he?"

Jorah finally contributed to the conversation, much to Dany's relief. She had been hoping that Arya's words hadn't affected him. "The boy is remarkably well-trained with weapons, especially for his age. I must say he possesses a sharpness in his attacks that I rarely see in warriors, especially someone as young as him."

Dany responded softly, "He's doing incredibly well, considering his age and all he has endured."

Sansa added, "Yes, I know. He was just a child when he went through so much. There were times I was scared, wondering if he was even alive."

Dany looked at Sansa with a sad but reassuring smile and said, "I can understand."

Sansa replied, "Oh 18, he's almost 18, just a few days away."

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

THAT NIGHT LATER

After dinner, Dany, Ser Jorah, and Sansa engaged in a lengthy conversation, which proved to be quite enjoyable for Dany. This marked the longest conversation she had ever had with Sansa, and it was a pleasant surprise. As the night grew darker and colder with each passing breeze, the landscape outside was completely blanketed in snow.

Dany couldn't deny that it had been a good day, but she felt the need for a hot bath. Her body was tired from her activities throughout the day, including her sessions with weapons, and the biting cold outside only encouraged people to retreat to their warm chambers.

Later, Missandei accompanied Dany for her hot bath. The two of them engaged in a conversation about their day and shared information about the various members of the court and their surroundings. Missandei playfully teased Dany about John, emphasizing, "I hope you had a good time with him." Dany smiled, her face lighting up, evident even to Missandei.

Missandei remarked, "I'm happy to see you smiling and enjoying yourself after the rather somber mood you've had these past few days, Your Grace." As she scrubbed Dany's arms, she continued, "Yes, you're right. Today, after a long time, I actually felt happy. Everything seemed fine. I'm realizing now that I may have been overreacting. I believe things will certainly get better in any case." Dany responded, her attention drifting as she played with the bubbles in the bathwater.

Missandei cheered her on, saying, "Yes, and there's no need to worry about John, Your Grace. You're quite fortunate; he's a truly good man. I've observed him closely. He loves you dearly and is incredibly caring." She made sure Dany was comfortable, allowing her to relax.

Dany lowered her head a bit further, resting it on the edge of the bath, and mused, "Yes, we do love each other. But I'm definitely going to tease him." She smiled mischievously while glancing at Missandei and continued, "He kept me waiting for far too long."

Missandei giggled, "Don't do that! He might become sad, thinking something like you must be asleep."

Dany nodded, "Yes, initially, he might. But then, I'll surprise him instantly. I love seeing him shocked and a little scared on such occasions, and he deserves this tonight."

Both of them laughed heartily while sharing their gossips, effectively washing away the weariness of the day.

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In the deep, enveloping darkness of the night, everyone had retired to their chambers, leaving the palace shrouded in silence. The only sounds that persisted were the thuds of the cold breezes, the gentle patter of water droplets, and the occasional crackling of the wooden logs in the fires. The palace appeared somewhat eerie in this solitude, but Dany couldn't have cared less. Her mind was elsewhere, immersed in thoughts of John and the anticipation of his arrival.

She wanted to look enchanting this night, especially for him. As she strolled through her chamber, her fingers played with one another in a state of tension.

Her gaze wandered among her finest dresses, but her eyes settled on one in particular. It was a thin, crimson gown with an impossibly deep neckline, its hem stopping just shy of her navel, adorned with delicate rose patterns. A small smile graced her lips as she selected this dress.

Nuzzling her cheek against the dress's exquisitely delicate, silky fabric, she couldn't help but ponder how destiny had never allowed her to wear it of her own accord. It was a beautiful garment, a gift given by Viserys, but she had resolved to wear it when she met her prince—the one who would save her and grant her the happiness of a loving family. Her mind drifted back to the days of her suffering and yearning, a time when she had never found the one.

But now, he is here,he stood before her, ready to take her away from her trials, the one who would love her boundlessly.

Dany positioned herself in front of the mirror, her chosen dress clinging to her body. She wondered if it would do justice to her beauty, but the thought of herself without the dress teased her even more. A devilish grin crept across her lips as she contemplated the night ahead.

Dany prepared herself with meticulous care, adjusting the neckline of her dress while gazing into the mirror. As she combed her hair, she couldn't help but think of John and how he would tenderly run his fingers through those locks, warming her with his affection. While contemplating whether to braid her hair or form it into rose-like buns, she ultimately decided to let it cascade freely.

It looked enchanting on her, yet she longed to recreate the rose bun, a style that John had often praised. Though crafting the intricate bun felt like a heavy and challenging task, she pushed herself to do it, knowing that this night was for both John and herself. She left it a bit loose so that it could be undone easily later.

Beyond the chamber's walls, heavy bricks of snow fell from the eaves to the ground outside, creating a symphony of loud, echoing cracks. To her, each sound was a harbinger of John's arrival, adding to her anticipation. She added a delicate scent from Dorne to complete her preparations.

The room was warm and inviting, a sanctuary against the biting cold outside. Despite the coziness, she found herself drawn to a blanket, wrapped around her as she sat in a chair, her thoughts filled with anticipation.

Sitting there, Dany contemplated whether she should change her cushions to something softer, but she quickly dismissed the whimsical thought with a laugh, knowing John would surely think her mad. With all her preparations nearly complete, she was now only awaiting John's arrival to finalize the evening's plans. She dashed off to lock her door securely, a crucial detail she couldn't overlook, and a part of the night she thoroughly relished.

A gift from Braavos, a bottle of special perfume was in her hand, and as she sprayed it around her room, she marveled at the captivating, almost mysterious scent it exuded. Known to leave people a bit dizzy, this fragrance was said to possess an enchanting quality, making it a favorite choice for newlyweds on their first night. As she visualized John's mockingly frustrated expression when she refused to open the door and imagined how his sweet charm would eventually win her over, she couldn't help but smile.

Seated on her bed, she waited for John, knowing that the castle gates would soon be sealed for the night. It was the hour when all work came to a halt, and if John had been anywhere outside, he would be making his way to her room. Standing beside her small window, she noticed there was no light coming from John's chambers, nor were his guards present.

It was clear he was on his way. With a sense of anticipation and excitement, she let herself lie down on her bed, closing her eyes and relishing these moments.

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

Dany awoke abruptly, shaken from her brief slumber by another loud crash of ice bricks. She hadn't realized how long she had dozed off and jolted herself awake, worried that John was taking an unusually long time. Glancing around her chamber, she observed a complete absence of anything unusual, even as she peered outside her door and through the small window.

She sank back onto her bed, nervously awaiting his arrival, silently dreading the thought that he might have forgotten their meeting. She refused to entertain that idea, convinced that everything had been perfect on this day and that nothing could possibly go wrong.

However, as time continued to slip by, he still hadn't appeared. Even the wolves, she thought, would be resting now, but he was nowhere to be found. More time passed, and he still didn't come.

---------

Now it passed more than hour and yet he wasn’t there.

Dany lost track of time, waiting, and still, he didn't come. She accepted her fate, tears welling up in her eyes, and let herself fall into a deep sleep, seeking solace in the warmth of her blanket and silky cushions. Her weary body couldn't endure the anticipation any longer.

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

Later hours a sudden, loud pounding on her door jolted her from her slumber. Dany was unaccustomed to such a clamor in the middle of the night. She wondered if John had finally arrived but soon realized that it couldn't be him. The pounding was relentless, intense, and filled with urgency.

"Who's outside?" Dany asked with a mix of curiosity and alarm. "I demand to know who's out there!"

The banging continued, growing even louder, and Dany's heart raced with each forceful thud. It felt as if the door was on the brink of breaking open. She hurried to her bed, covered herself, and grasped a small knife, ready to defend herself.

The door creaked open, and when Dany turned her eyes toward it, she found Arya standing there. At first, her racing heart slowed as she recognized him, but her shock and curiosity remained. Flustered by his unexpected presence, Dany asked with an alarmed voice, "What are you doing at this hour? You frightened me. Is there an emergency? Is everything all right?"

Arya appeared at a loss for words. "I... I, my queen, I..."

Concerned by his unusual behavior, Dany rose from her bed and approached him in much tension "What's the matter? Why are you here, and why are you acting like this? Please, say something. Your silence is making me even more anxious."

While who Arya continued to appear bewildered, gazing at her as though she were some foreign entity or a White Walker itself. Dany tried to meet his gaze, which lingered from her head to toe, particularly below her neckline, causing her cheeks to flush.

Finally, he continued in his soft, hushed voice, much to Dany's surprise. "I came to check on you. I noticed the lights were on in this room. I tried to open the door quietly, but it was locked tightly, and something seemed to be blocking it i thought," he said while glancing around at the large table Dany had placed in front of the door. "I couldn't make out the sounds clearly. At first, I attempted to knock, but when it seemed like you weren't responding, I feared you might be in danger. That's when I began banging on the door," he explained, his gaze fixed on her with intense eyes. "I apologize, my queen."

Dany finally managed to calm herself as she realized the situation. She nodded and sighed, "oh It's... it's alright. Just please don't behave like this again."

However, she noticed that Arya didn't make any move to leave her room. He stood there, gazing at her with an intense look that she couldn't help but describe as resembling 'lust' Dany followed his gaze and was shocked to see that her dress had become loose, with some threads undone during her restless sleep. It was revealing far more than it should have, and one of its straps had already slipped down her arm.

Dany felt a surge of shame as she took in her disheveled appearance and Arya's penetrating gaze. She knew she shouldn't look this disarrayed, with her hair now flowing loosely in untamed waves, her beautiful dress creased and ruffled in ways it was never intended to be. Her dress, which was already rather sheer and clingy, added to her apprehension.

She began to reach for a long woolen shawl on table, intent on covering herself and regaining some composure. But before she could do so, Arya gripped her arms firmly, preventing her from proceeding.

"Don't," he said, holding her arms gently and guiding her back toward him.

Dany's body still trembled slightly from her recent sleep, and Arya's cold touch sent shivers along her nerves. She attempted to explain, her words almost faltering, "But, Prince, it's not... It's unqueenly of me." Her sentence was cut off swiftly by Arya's response.

"No, you don't need to do that," he said, drawing her closer to him. His tone was soothing and understanding, as if he didn't fully comprehend the meaning behind his own words. "It's just me and you, and you don't need to hide anything, especially from me and I already told you this."

She sensed his fingers grazing her arms, and then she saw him whisk the shawl away, discarding it carelessly. His eyes remained locked onto hers, an unwavering connection that both unsettled and intrigued Dany. While the intensity of his gaze made her slightly uncomfortable, her own expression was something of a paradox.

For a prolonged moment, he merely observed her, his eyes traversing her features. He moved from her eyes to her neck, then down to her lips, and her chest, which rose and fell rapidly with her unsteady breath. The look in his eyes was undeniably charged with desire, and Dany couldn't ignore the fact that this was indeed a lustful stare.

Despite this, she reasoned that he was a young man, and such feelings were perhaps only natural. At least, she hoped so. The gaze wasn't entirely consumed by lust and longing, as if he viewed her as some precious and delectable fruit he wished to consume or a piece of jewelry to be won.

To alleviate the mounting tension, she decided to shift the focus and inquire about John. "Did John return? Is he safe?" She endeavored to conceal her emotions behind her words.

"Why do you always have to bring him into everything? Can't you stand on your own in Winterfell?" Dany was taken aback by the sudden shift in Arya's tone, and she gazed at him, his eyes now hardened and filled with darkness. Arya's response took her aback. His tone had shifted dramatically, and it was almost accusatory. Dany stared at him, her shock palpable. "What do you mean ?" Her voice betrayed her bewilderment.

Arya's demeanor transformed once more, but not to the same extent as before. "I didn't mean it that way," he clarified. "I only wanted to reassure you that you're not tethered to John's side all the time. Winterfell is your home now, too. You can come to me anytime if you ever need assistance. Don't you trust us?"

"No, no, my prince, I trust you completely," she reassured him, her hands gently resting on Arya's arms. "I'm not dependent on John. I was simply anticipating his return, that's all," she concluded the sentence with a tinge of sadness she couldn't conceal, her gaze lowered.

"And he didn't come," Arya replied sternly.

Dany was again taken aback by his sudden intrusion into her personal affairs. "Yes," she responded softly. "I think you should return, it's quite late." She was just about to request that Arya leave, but her words were swiftly interrupted by his startling remark.

"Sometimes I wonder, does he even deserve you? How did he manage to win you?" Arya chuckled, a sardonic grin on his face, which conveyed nothing but irritation.

This behavior was peculiar, even for Arya, and it felt like he had crossed a line that no one had ever dared to approach before.

Dany was utterly shocked by his question. "What..what ?"

"Yes, I shouldn't be saying this, but it's the plain truth," Arya replied, his voice cold and soft, his shoulders subtly shrugging. Dany found herself struggling to grasp the reality of what she was hearing. She couldn't decide whether to scold him, be afraid of him, or wonder if he was in the right state of mind, or if he was genuinely like this.

"You don't need to interfere in our personal matters, especially concerning John. We love each other deeply, and he must be occupied with his duties, as I understand as a queen myself. Besides, he's your brother," she stated, her words firm and direct, although she was trying to maintain an air of confidence.

"Really?" Arya chuckled as he stepped closer, moving in much nearer to her. She could feel his cold breath on her skin. "I didn't mean to frighten you, I promise. I love my brother too, but... he's too foolish to leave you alone like this," he spoke slowly, his tone growing smoother and more sugary.

To Dany, it sounded like a sweet threat more than anything else. His eyes were fixed on her lips, filled with desire which she was unknown to. Dany wanted him to move away, to give her some space to breathe, but he didn't budge an inch from his place.

She couldn't comprehend why his presence was so intimidating, making her hesitate to push him away or say something. If it had been anyone else coming this close to her, she would have slapped them without a second thought. But there was something about Arya that left her momentarily paralyzed.

"Prince Arya... please, it's better if you..." Her voice was barely audible, a mere whisper.

"You are so stunning, Daenerys. I think you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," Arya's voice took on the quality of a dark lullaby. Her name sounded exquisite as it left his lips. Daenerys managed to summon her strength and looked directly at Arya, who was studying her face with intense focus. She felt a fluttering sensation inside her, something she shouldn't be feeling.

There was something about his gaze that always stirred something within her. Her breath caught as she realized his fingers were gently running through her hair, loosening her locks. "Keep it open always. Why do you tie them up?" he asked softly, tucking a loose strand behind her ear. His fingers continued their journey from her hair to her cheeks. "So incredibly beautiful, so delicate, so naive..," he whispered, his fingers caressing her skin, his eyes locked onto her face.

This was undeniably wrong, completely and utterly wrong. Dany knew she should be ashamed for allowing her brother-in-law to cross these boundaries and engage in such improper actions, but the strange truth was she wasn't. Her body defied her better judgment, ached to be closer to him. She should have pushed him away, ordered him to leave, but instead, she found herself silently inviting him further, desiring to explore the depths of his cold, restrained touches. The brutal cold of the night outside only intensified her yearning to discover the warmth of his body, to see what he could do more with her.

Daenerys snapped herself out of her irrational thoughts, forcing her mind back to reality. She had become so lost in her contemplation that she hadn't noticed her back was nearly against the wall, and Arya's tall and lean frame encroached upon her, making her feel insignificant. She swallowed hard and attempted to stand straight, but it felt like everything was slipping through her grasp.

Arya gently stroked her cheeks with his hands. "You wanted to spend your special night with him, to give your all, and he just left you waiting. How sad for you," he cooed in a sweet but mocking tone. Daenerys could barely manage to speak under his touch. "No, that..that that's no..not what it was..."

The fire in room crackled tensely, mirroring the tension inside her.

"Don't lie to me," Arya's fingers began to trace the contours of her shoulders, his voice holding a mix of sternness and dark curiosity. "You sleep like this every day, wearing this.., don't you?"

"Don't lie to me," Arya's fingers began to trace the contours of her shoulders, his voice holding a mix of sternness and dark curiosity. "You sleep like this every day wearing this., don't you?"

she could only manage to stammer out, "Ye ye yesss, i..I do." Her body was melting beneath his touch, and she was unsure what kind of sorcery he was wielding over her heart.

He leaned closer, his breath brushing against her ear. "And this scent is used by whores in Braavos. You shouldn't be wearing it unless... you're one of them," he whispered, his fingers lazily wandering through her hair as he took his time. "How do you kn.. no, it's not..." Daenerys' words faltered, her voice trembling and her breathing heavy, unable to complete her defense. What had come over her?

With a challenging glint in his eyes, he remarked, "liar..I know it. I have quite a history with Braavos and you don't need all this. You don't need to dress like this." His fingers ventured further down her neckline, tantalizingly halting just above her navel. "You, alone, are enough. Without the dress,bare.. even more wonderful blessing," he added. In that moment, Danys was pinned against the wall, feeling as if it were the only thing keeping her from surrendering to the intense allure.

Pathetic, helpless, and devastated, she stood there. Her skin was ablaze with desire, every touch of his  fingers against it making her heartbeat race as if preparing for a battle.

Arya continued in a smooth hushed tone, "Don't mind me, but I would never leave such a woman alone, even for a moment, if she were my betrothed... I would devour her every chance,every moment I get," he whispered, his eyes fixed on her face, his fingers tracing the warm contours of her cheeks.

She had completely lost herself under his touch, his intense gaze, and everything else about him. Perhaps, in her denials, she had been denying her own needs as well. Finally, she opened her eyes and realized he was too close, dangerously close, as though he was about to consume her.

Thankfully, after a sliver of light seeping in from a slightly ajar door caught her eye, her gaze landed on the wedding dress she had got from John as gift.. With all her remaining strength, she distanced herself from Arya. Moving toward the door, she swung it open wide, signaling for him to depart with a courteous smile. "I think it's too late, Prince Arya. You should return to your room. I need some rest as well."

Arya moved away slowly, a faint grin clearly visible on his face as his eyes remained fixed on her. Dany struggled to avoid direct eye contact, looking elsewhere. When he approached the threshold, he couldn't resist a parting shot, "Goodnight, my queen. It was a pleasure to see you.. like this," he said with a honeyed tone, his smugness unmistakable.

"Thank you, Prince, for checking on me. Goodnight to you as well," she replied with a forced smile. She immediately closed the door and leaned against it, her breath heavy as if she had been suffocated throughout those moments.

Turning off the lights from candles, she walked over to her bed, cocooned herself in the embrace of the soft cushions and blankets, seeking nothing but peace. She was determined to ensure that whatever had just transpired would never happen again; it had been an ordeal beyond her imagining.

[eruherdiriel]

Homecoming

Jonsa ficlet Rating: G Universe: Canon, bookverse Other: Arranged marriage, Sansa POV

Also on AO3.

Banners appear on the horizon, the emblem invisible to her at first as the standards fly straight out behind the men who hold them, but Sansa does not need to see the fabric to know who has arrived. Ghost had been beside her in the Great Hall as she met with a group of serving women when he chuffed and sprang to his feet. The direwolf had only to look at her and she knew. They had climbed the stairs in the keep until they reached the battlements, Sansa following Ghost as he walked her around to just above the East Gate. Together, they watched over the hills to the south and east of the castle, waiting for any sign of him—for Jon and his host, riding home from a gathering with new southern rulers.

The standard bearers slow their horses, and the banners relax into a gentler movement. She can see the great beast on them now, white against a grey background. While it looks the most like a direwolf—like Ghost—it is something new, with a scaled belly, long talon claws, and feathery wings—a wolf, a dragon, and a crow all in one. Ivory weirwood trunks and limbs with bright red leaves encircle the beast to complete the design, one of Sansa’s own imaginings. With their marriage, Jon could fly the Stark banner, the grey direwolf that hangs off the battlements of Winterfell even now, but he had refused.

Ghost moves back toward the stairs, and she follows to await his master in the yard. Her palms sweat in her light leather gloves and her heart pounds. I have not been this nervous to see Jon since our wedding night.

Once her husband is through the gate and off his horse, they greet each other formally. Nervousness continues to bubble inside her as they proceed into the keep and his bedchamber, where a bath awaits him. 

She leaves him there to wash off the grime of a hard ride. He frowns as she goes, no doubt sensing her disquietude. Why must he see through me? she wonders.

Perhaps his ability to do so is the very reason she finds herself in this situation.

Later, when she sees the servants taking the dirty bathwater away, she returns to his rooms. The first soft knock returns no answer, so she tries again, firmer this time, and he bids her enter. 

Jon is standing straight when she opens the door, but Sansa can see the exhaustion behind his eyes. Once again, their greeting is proper. Then they fall silent, as he waits for her to explain her presence.

There are words Sansa is thinking of trying out on her tongue, ones she has never spoken to Jon before. The alliance their marriage built is so very fragile still, and affection was never part of the promises they made to each other or their people. It grew anyway, at least for her. Scarier than recognizing that is the fear she harbors that he does not feel the same.

But Sansa is brave, so she walks closer to him and twists her tongue to form the words.

“I missed you,” she says, eyes cast down. Her disposition does not prevent her from seeing his eyebrows shoot up. With them, her own walls rise. She lifts her chin as well, no longer wishing to appear demure.

“I mean to say, Ghost missed you, and I missed having you to negotiate with the wildlings. Tormund Giantsbane is the crassest man—”

Jon halts her words as he reaches out and pulls her into his chest, his nose drawing a line up her neck as he breathes in deep. Almost like he wishes to inhale me, she thinks. “I missed you as well, my lady,” he says in her ear, and sparks shoot down her back from where his breath tickles her skin.

Sansa believes him, Seven save her. After everything, her trust in people having been trampled by a cavalry of cruel men and women, this is all it takes: an embrace and seven simple words. Only his embrace, and only his words, she promises herself.

She relaxes into his arms, content for the first time in a long while.

[dragnsofthread]

The Starks and their Direwolves

(note: I'm only referring to the show in this post)

It's so interesting to me how the Stark children's trajectories are reflected in the lives of their direwolves.

Robb/Grey Wind Grey Wind wars with Robb until they are both butchered at the Red Wedding. From the time Robb found him in the snow to their deaths, Grey Wind remained by Robb's side.

Jon/Ghost Jon and Ghost are a package deal (minus the Battle of the Bastards, still bitter), traveling together, fighting together. Jon's enemies are Ghost's enemies. Jon giving Ghost to Tormund before marching on King's Landing reflects Jon's own gravitation towards the North. In the end, Jon and Ghost travel north of the Wall together, where they were both supposed to be all along.

Sansa/Lady Lady died because Sansa lied to Robert and Cersei about what really happened with Joffrey, Arya and Mycah. The lie was the beginning of the end for her. It reflected her inability to see Joffrey as a villain and turned her against her own family. The death of Lady represented the death of a part of Sansa. She built herself back up, without her wolf and wrought with anger, eventually becoming the Lady of Winterfell.

Arya/Nymeria The death of Mycah was also the catalyst for Arya to send Nymeria away into the wild. Arya was changed after that and went a little wild herself. It was the beginning of her bloodlust. She learned to be a water dancer, a Faceless Man, an assassin. She took matters into her own hands and grew up to be nobody's victim. When Arya meets Nymeria again in 7x02, Nymeria is the alpha of her own pack. Arya knows her wolf is right where she was meant to be. Just as Arya had never been a lady, Nymeria had never been a pet.

Bran/Summer Bran and Summer were bonded from day one, and they stuck together all throughout Bran's journey to becoming the Three-Eyed Raven. Summer defended Bran at every turn, most memorably at the very end of season 6 when Bran and Meera leave the cave. The death of Summer represents the death of Bran the boy, and the birth of the Three-Eyed Raven.

Rickon/Shaggydog Shaggydog was ever Rickon's fierce protector, as wild as a direwolf raised by a six-year-old could be. Unfortunately we as an audience don't see much of Rickon and Shaggydog's relationship after they're separated from Bran, but we can assume they maintained their bond as Jon and Ghost do. Shaggydog's end was Rickon's end.

[agentrouka-blog]

was jon ever called pretty in the books? i saw people commenting on twitter but i don't remember it

Ygritte describes his face as "sweet" once and Tormund mocks him for his "smooth pink cheeks" as looking like a daughter. But no. Jon doesn't inspire people to call him pretty.

He had the Stark face if not the name: long, solemn, guarded, a face that gave nothing away. (AGOT, Tyrion II)

By contrast, this is how Tyrion describes Loras:

Seventeen, and beautiful, and already a legend. Half the girls in the Seven Kingdoms want to bed him, and all the boys want to be him. (ASOS, Tyrion II)

Or Lancel:

Lancel had thick sandy hair, green Lannister eyes, and a line of soft blond fuzz on his upper lip. At sixteen, he was cursed with all the certainty of youth, unleavened by any trace of humor or self-doubt, and wed to the arrogance that came so naturally to those born blond and strong and handsome.  (ACOK, Tyrion VI)

No one describes Ned as particularly pretty either. If Jon takes after Lyanna's reported "wild beauty", he's not turning anyone's heads with it, at this point.

[zalrb]

Speak!

Link to part 1: http://zalrb.tumblr.com/post/164720175550/trust-jonsa-one-shot Link to part 2: http://zalrb.tumblr.com/post/181817838525/an-entirely-different-way-pt-2

Link to part 3: http://zalrb.tumblr.com/post/182562584780/passion

Link to part 4:https://zalrb.tumblr.com/post/184333793460/survival

Link to part 5: https://zalrb.tumblr.com/post/184637430325/the-happening

Link to part 6: https://zalrb.tumblr.com/post/627229549053214720/nothing-has-changed-everything-has-changed

Link to part 7: https://zalrb.tumblr.com/post/695978201342672896/agony

Jon Snow was dead. With each step he took toward the altar, he’d buried another piece of himself until he stood, waiting, for his bride as not much more than a hollow husk. Truthfully, he’d already been dead for a while. Since his conversation with Arya. 

            He’d been dressing when she’d entered his rooms, fastening his vest with leaden, sombre hands and when she’d walked through the doorway, he’d turned to grin at her somewhat morosely.

 "Let me guess,” he said. “You're here to tell me what a fool I am for agreeing to this wedding. It's a little late. I’ve already asked Tormund to say the first words."

Arya shook her head. "I'm not here to tell you anything." She’d smiled, her eyes softening a bit. "No one can tell you anything, Jon."

"I don't know about that,” he said. “Sounds more like Sansa."

Jon briefly closed his eyes -- how quickly his thoughts turned to her, how eagerly his tongue spoke her name. It was a problem he needed rectified and an instinct he never wanted quelled and a threat he relished to a peace he longed for. It was a multitude of conflicting emotions. It was Sansa.

"That's why I'm here."

Jon turned around to face her completely, raising his eyebrows. 

Arya paused. "She'll never forgive you for this, you know."

Oh, did he. "So, you came as her ambassador."

"I came for you, to see if you're prepared for that loss."

He wasn’t. He couldn’t think of anything worse except for what would happen to his home, his countrymen if he went back on his word. And the fact that Sansa refused to see that, that she would severance herself from him, leave him, made him angry.

"Sansa thinks she knows better than everybody else,” he said gruffly. “But I am doing this because--"

"Jon, your Queen?” Arya walked up to him, her tone getting firmer. 

“Our Queen, Arya.”

“I know a killer when I see one. And if somewhere she knows about..." She looked at him pointedly and his lips parted. She knew. He knew she knew. But she wouldn’t say it out loud.

"Then Sansa is a threat to her in more ways than one  and that's something I will have to deal with."

"Don't speak so dangerously," said Jon.

"I’ve never been afraid of danger.” She kept her gaze steady. "Sansa will never abandon you but tonight you will lose her, do you think you can survive that? Do you think we can survive that?"

He rubbed his eyes. Why was everyone being impossible? "I have to choose what's best for everyone, regardless of how I feel or what I want. We don’t have the luxury of following our … we have a duty … we … I gave my word before I even knew that I’d---” 

Jon couldn’t even finish the sentence. It physically pained him 

Arya continued to look at him. "I know you think you've made your choice. But don't be surprised if there comes a time where you might have to choose again."

*

Sansa couldn’t recall the last time a wedding had been a joyous occasion. Tyrion had been kind in their marriage but she hadn’t known what to expect beforehand and the trepidation and unease of that ignorance had made her nervous and fearful the entire ceremony. The night she’d married Ramsay, she’d thought she was going to be sick, walking through the godswood she’d walked through many times as a young girl but with Bolton banners everywhere and toward a family who had slaughtered hers. Upon seeing Ramsay’s face her own became a mask of impassivity while rage and disgust and fear roiled within her. Before either wedding, her mother and brother had been slaughtered at one, ripping out a large piece of her that she would never, even if she’d attempted to, get back. The only glimmer of joy had been when Joffrey, her tormentor, had died an agonizing death at his wedding but that demise had not been the liberation she’d prayed for. 

And now, this wedding, between this man and that woman. This wedding that’d had the entire castle in a frenzy of preparation for days. This wedding was plaguing her with a keen, aching sorrow that made it impossible to speak, near-impossible to breathe. In the midst of dressing for the occasion, she would sometimes stare at her own hands, wondering who they belonged to So much had been taken from her over the years, but this loss was something she couldn’t have imagined because she couldn’t have imagined Jon in the first place, of what the two of them together awakened in her. She couldn’t imagine passion. She couldn’t imagine…

Sansa closed her eyes. Stop it. Stop.

It was done. They were done. Before they even started. She had to let it go. There was no other way. Her heart had been broken a thousand times before this, and loving Jon Snow would be yet something else she’d survive. She knew how to endure, she knew how to rebuild, she ---

Suddenly, she heard a creak and felt something inside of her ignite. That spark, it was only triggered by one person’s presence. She turned toward the door, looking at it with such concentration as if that was all it took for her tear-brimmed eyes to see through to the other side, to see through to who she knew, in her gut, was standing in the corridor. She willed him to come in, to knock, to whisper her name, to yell in anger, to do anything to let her know he was there, he was hers.  

Jon stood outside Sansa’s door, poised to walk in. He wanted to hold her and yell at her all at once and his hand trembled with the urge to push open this barrier between them and take her in his arms. Soon, his entire body thrummed with the desire to see her, to go to her. His mouth moved wordlessly, and he furrowed his brow, conflicted. It felt physically impossible to stay on this side of the door, everything in him strained to see her, yearned to touch her. The desire was overpowering, transforming into an uncontainable force that made him agitated, made his breathing ragged, he was going to come undone -- 

And then it was gone. He’d buried it all at once, removing himself from how he felt, shrouding himself in a numbness so complete, it was as if he belonged to himself. He was gone.

He murmured, “Goodbye” and we walked down the corridor, making his way out to the godswood. 

Sansa sank onto a chair, her hand suddenly splayed on her chest as the spark died as quickly as it had flared within her and something in her body shifted. Something that told her, it was all over. 

*

The knock was unexpected. It wasn’t Jon. Sansa already knew that. But it surprised her when she opened the door to find Daenerys in full wedding dress.

Sansa blinked. “Your Grace. I… I was making my way to your rooms---”

“That’s alright,” said Daenerys. “I move at my own pace.”

“Evidently.”

Daenerys walked into the room and glanced around. “I wanted to give this to you before the ceremony.” 

She handed Sansa a scroll that she unfurled and began reading. 

“It will say that as my prince consort, Jon will have another title as King in the North, which is what Tyrion had explained  when discussing the political aspects of this union.” 

Sansa remained looking at the piece of paper, sensing Daenerys was waiting for some sort of expression of gratitude but she did not give one. 

Daenerys prompted her. “It is exactly what we discussed.” 

“Well, what you and Jon discussed,” said Sansa, putting the paper on her desk. 

Daenerys’ face became steadily less congenial.  “I have compromised a lot, Sansa. I even conceded to the Northern customs for this wedding.” 

“Which was smart as you’re in the North and want to the favour of our people,” said Sansa simply with a shrug. Every move Daenerys did was calculated and she was rather bored with the assumption that she didn’t know when her strategies were simply common sense.  “A Northern wedding and a title with no power.” 

Daenerys scoffed. “It holds considerable power.” 

“Just not sovereignty,” said Sansa. “He bends the knee to you, we bend the knee to him, nothing changes. He’s just the Warden of North except he’s not in the North and has a fancier title and you’re counting on our loyalty to Jon to quell any idea of a rebellion as he would be by your side.”

Whatever congeniality Daenerys was putting on had now evaporated. “The Seven Kingdoms are my birthright, the North is my birthright and I love this land like---” 

Sansa clasped her hands together. “What is it that you love about the North in the short time you’ve been here?”

Daenerys blinked, taken aback by the question. She tried to recover. “I discover something new about this place everyday. Each discovery more beautiful than the last.” 

“Mm.” Sansa nodded. “But do you love the conviction we have in our beliefs? Do you understand our beliefs? Our wilfulness and loyalty. The passion with which we uphold our ideals, which may be very different from your own? Our might, our---”

As Sansa continued to speak with more and more feeling,  Daenerys got the distinct impression that she was not only describing her country and countrymen. And when she finished, she took a deep, shuddering breath as if her own words moved her to breathlessness. 

Daenerys cleared her throat and patted down her dress.  “I am marrying him when I am in no need of a husband,” he said. “That is proof enough,” she said, opening the door. “It’s time.” 

“Your Grace,” said Sansa.

            “How do I look?” 

            Sansa gave her a once over. “It’s a dress fit for a Queen.” 

Jon couldn’t feel the chill on his bare face, he couldn’t feel himself within his body, couldn’t even feel worn or tired, or detached, he felt … gone. Tormund, who stood next to him, was more nervous than he was. He could see Arya looking at him curiously but couldn’t even bring himself to pretend. He just … was. He’d snuffed it out -- the spark that had enlivened him since the Red Woman brought him back and now he was nothing more than an animated corpse and that was all he would be. That was the choice, the sacrifice he’d made.

            He saw them approach but his vision was unfocused, saving him from seeing her, from noticing her, keeping his heart dead.

Sansa, once again, found herself in the godswood. Her feet, once again, propelling her toward her heartbreak.  They passed by soldiers, passed by faces she knew until they stopped in front of Jon and she felt as though she’d shatter on the spot. 

Tormund glanced awkwardly at Jon who gave an encouraging nod and then he spoke, his voice raspy. “Who comes before the gods?” 

Sansa didn’t answer right away. She couldn’t. If she did, her voice would break and betray the depth of her pain and she’d already bled in front of Jon enough for a lifetime. She willed herself to swallow her sadness and relax her throat and once she did, she answered.

“Daenerys of the House Targaryen.” Sansa paused before saying the words that had shackled her to a man she’d despised. “A woman trueborn and noble. She comes to beg the blessings of the gods. Who … who comes to claim her?”

Jon hesitated and then stepped forward. Even in such a state, he was drawn to her. His eyes shifted to Sansa’s and when, after a few seconds, they locked, the furious pain that made hers shine with unshed tears lanced through his chest and catapulted him into an internal free fall. He didn’t feel rooted to the ground he was standing on. Nothing about the wood seemed real or possible, it wasn’t possible that he was where was, watching himself stare at the woman, at the two women in front of him. This body wasn’t his, this life wasn’t his. He was aware everyone was waiting for him to recite the expected answer. 

He opened his mouth. He paused for a second, an eternity and then ---           

Commotion in the near distance. Clanging. Shouting. Everyone turned to look toward the distraction. Voices could be heard.

“Assassin! Assassin!” 

Everyone started moving. Jon and Brienne rushed toward Sansa, Brienne standing in front of her, Jon crushing her to him, cloaking her. Greyworm rushed to protect Daenerys, joining her with Missandei. Arya, readied, had her blade drawn, covering Bran. A few soldiers ran toward the commotion. Everything was happening so fast. 

In a manner of seconds, men entered the clearing with the severed heads of the apparent would-be assassins. 

“What has happened?” 

“They opposed the union.”

Daenerys’ head snapped toward Sansa and then her eyes widened near-imperceptibly at seeing the way Jon held onto her.

His stomach plummeted. “No,” he whispered. “Daenerys---”

She addressed Sansa. “Did you know about this?”

Sansa remained silent, her eyes narrowed in fury. 

“Speak,” said Daenerys. “Speak!”

[rise-my-angel]

Modern Tormund makes ship style edits of him and Jon with extra heart emojis

Tormund was convinced to make an online account, and everytime Jon is on a trip north of the Wall, Tormund always posts ship edits just like that of he and Jon even when the pictures or videos are totally asinine and normal, he will make it a cutsey picture and make some caption about his little crow.

The responses are all very routine who says what. Rattleshirt and Styr always make some derogatory and homophobic comment that inevitably gets them banned for a week. Karsi always adds to it by making up some story about how travelling them the two of them and their pda is always a pain. Anytime Edd is also in the photos background, Grenn and Pyp always comment something about being a third wheel, Sam always says that Edd looks like he wishes he could join in on the action.

Even after Jon starts dating the reader, you never fail to comment about what a cute couple Tormund and Jon make and to not forget to invite you to the wedding.

Jon never actually writes a comment, but he likes every single post Tormund makes like that, and usually also likes the readers comment too.

You can blame it on Karsi's daughters. They taught Tormund one day how to use heart emoji's and how to use cutesy filters and the man just fucking ran with it.

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

hello :)

I know you're mainly a HOTD blog, but do you know any good GOT blogs you can recommend? (do you have favorite GOT fics?)

Hello!

The only person I follow who currently actively writes for Game of Thrones characters is @asa-do-your-thing

I have a couple of drabbles written for Cersei, but nothing substantial.

Hands down, my favourite GoT fic is The Sun of Winter by @lixiepeach - it’s on their masterlist, pinned to the top of their page (Tumblr gremlins won’t let me link it, for some reason) - it’s Tormund Giantsbane x OFC and is a series. Davina Karstark (the oc of the story) runs away from her wedding and ends up being captured by Wildlings. I read it like four years ago and have never forgotten it. An incredible story!

If anyone has any other suggestions of writers or fics, then please feel free to add on to this post!

[badbedforbedding]

"I'll need two boys to take their places." "How's that?" Tormund scratched his beard. "A hostage is a hostage, seems to me. That big sharp sword o' yours can snick a girl's head off as easy as a boy's. A father loves his daughters too. Well, most fathers."

A Dance with Dragons - Jon XII

Ned stood, and took her in his arms, and held her face close to his. “Rickon is very young,” he said gently. “He should stay here with you and Robb. The others I would take with me.” “I could not bear it,” Catelyn said, trembling. “You must,” he said. “Sansa must wed Joffrey, that is clear now, we must give them no grounds to suspect our devotion. And it is past time that Arya learned the ways of a southron court. In a few years she will be of an age to marry too.” Sansa would shine in the south, Catelyn thought to herself, and the gods knew that Arya needed refinement. Reluctantly, she let go of them in her heart. But not Bran. Never Bran.

A Game of Thrones - Catelyn II

Girls, daughters, and their lack of worth to Westerosi culture. There's something about Tormund's confusion and Catelyn's readily letting go of her daughters that speaks to that. I know what it is, I'm just too tired to draw the connection today.