#westeros ladies

[theredquill]

🧜‍♂️ ✧˚ · . HOUSE MANDERLY: with the ocean’s might.

house manderly is a noble family in the north whose seat is new castle in the city of white. the lord of white harbor, wyman manderly, claims to influence all lands and houses east of the mouth of the white knife, including houses locke, woolfield, and flint of widow's watch. the manderlys' dominion includes the sheepshead hills and the broken branch, as well as the allegiance of ramsgate. their bannermen includes a dozen petty lords and a hundred landed knights. members of house manderly include: lord wyman manderly, late lady mirian manderly ( oc), late willys manderly, wendel manderly, wylla manderly, wynafryd mandelry, miranda manderly ( oc ).

( not an official motto, just a fanfic writer fanfic-ing)

[amaltheas-garden]

people still shocked that in the year of our lord 2024 some of us don't want to see Dany get her 'happy ending' by becoming the white savior who was promised

[dinastiatargaryen]

[fromtheseventhhell]

I can tell I'm Arya-pilled to the max because I'll see other Arya stans talking about the questionable morality of her executing Daeron and I'm just like "That was so Lady of Winterfell-coded"

[legolasofmirkwoodforest]

All I want in Fire & Blood 2 is for more info on Sheira Seastar. Like she was a sexually promiscuous, unmarried, probable witch in Westeros, yet she seems to have largely been respected and even a little feared at Court. You're telling me a Maester *isn't* going to spend an entire chapter trying to figure out how the fuck that happened?

[a-song-for-ages]

Down Bad

Mix of hotd series and the books idk maybe

Somewhat eventual willem blackwood fic (age gap of like 13?)

no beta we go down like canon jon snow (he's dead)

pronunciation of daenerys that is used: dy(die)-nair-ris

Summary:

Daenerys Velaryon sees her mother dressed as a nun and knows she's up to no good but decides to let the Queen do as she pleases without interfering. (If only all parents had such children.)

Pt. 1

"Mother," her voice was soft, and still, and it cut through the air like ice. There was no warmth in it, not when she seemed to walk upon on her mother and her dragon - the less sensible of the two dressed like a virginal woman of a Faith she had little love for.

"Di," her mother turned, hair spun like the silver of the moon and gold of the sun - a stark contrast to her own, the black of night, the image that brought upon her family the scrutiny of lesser men and hisses of poisoned vipers awaiting to strike - nevermind the colour of their eyes, so light, her own, so dark, her brothers, and yet, contrasting and complimenting that wine of her own mother's.

Daenerys supposed if she and her brothers were the Targaryen children of Jahaerys and Alysanne reborn again, there would have still been doubts of their parentage, regardless of any dragon born to them in the cradle, or not.

Daenerys also supposed that if Visenya Targaryen had to appear to court in her ashes and declare them legitimate, she would have been questioned. And oh, the poor soul who would dare to do so. Daenerys thought of the three Maesters slain by her son, upon their questioning of his right to rule from the Throne. Would they have rathered he hid in the shadows and rule as the Hightowers did, when her grandsire had turned old and frail, tended to by maesters of their own, sending no word of when he succumbed to death?

There was no word to describe what she felt.

Luke. Dead. Arrax. Dead. Grandsire. Dead. Visenya. Dead.

Dead, dead, dead... dropping like ashen leaves of a weirwood tree.

"I am only going for a... ride," the queen's confidence had slowly died upon her mouth as she noted the pitched black of her daughter's eyes. They were calculating, and cold, and predatory, assessing her the same way Rhaenyra assessed those she had yet to consider as enemy, or ally. A dragon anticipating a hunt.

"If you were, then you would be wearing riding leathers," she said coolly, a brow only raising as the darkness dimmed in her eyes. "But you are not." Then there was a slight tilt to her head, and oh, how Rhaenyra saw her own self in her daughter's stance.

Rhaenyra regained her composure, and stopped her fingers from caressing the cool silver of her rings, when her daughter continued to drawl.

"And while Syrax is so stubborn to have you come to her for a ride," she paused, the dragon trilling a song in the air at the mention of her own name, maw opening the slightest in what would have looked like a gum-filled smile of a child who had gained recognition for a silly act... save for the fact that from Syrax's gums, came came black sword-like teeth protruding straight into one another. "She has come to you."

"A farewell, then, perhaps," her voice was casual, and her shoulders were laxed, but Rhaenyra knew, if anything, her daughter's mind often contradicted what she showed on her body.

"But to where?"

Daenerys had then folded her arms over her chest, and lowered her chin and looked pointedly at her mother - as she did to Jace and Luke and Joffrey and Aegon and Viserys when they were caught mostly by her, trying and failing to do what only she could. (Silly things, Rhaenyra remembered, like stealing the marbled balls from the Council room of her father's... back in King's Landing, when they were so very young, and her father was hale as a horse.)

Rhaenyra shut her eyes and considered telling her daughter the truth, before she decided against it. The less that knew, the better... but that did not mean she would be any less honest to her daughter, who had a most unnerving ability to tell when someone was lying. (And mostly, in her youth, when those light eyes she seemed to get from Aemon Targaryen, if what Rhaenys said was true, would train themselves upon a person, it felt as if she was mostly seeing through them, not at them. It had unnerved Rhaenyra when little Di was a babe, but she slowly grew used to it, until she found herself hoping to hide a thing from someone... and then she would find those ghost eyes of her daughter set on her.)

"I cannot say," she said, swallowing indiscernably, "but I trust that you will keep the knowledge of my venturings to yourself -"

There was a slight smile on her daughter's lips, but it was so bare that Rhaenyra knew it could disappear as quick as a feather on the wind.

Her daughter only nodded, rolling her eyes as she, "So a fool's errand, then."

Rhaenyra pursed her lips, and flexed the hand to her side, breathing out and deciding, "Mayhaps we shall see... I will only know once this course has been taken and done with."

Daenerys did not look entirely convinced otherwise, but Rhaenyra trusted her daughter to keep her secret, as was the habit of theirs, protecting each other's, not as mother and daughter often did, but as something other. Like friends. Like sisters... if Rhaenyra was to have one that would be entirely hers, and not her father's or Alicent's or anyone else with whom she had to share with... then yes, that was what her daughter was to her... and Rhaenyra was never sorry for it. Neither was her daughter, who had only looked slightly annoyed, but accepting and trusting of what her mother had planned. Even if she didn't know the half of it.

Approaching her daughter, Rhaenyra took her cold hands and rubbed them warm, bringing her only daughter to look to her, now, a slight frown had made its way to her lips.

Rhaenyra hated seeing her daughter so displeased, and said, "I will be back before the week's end."

Daenerys's displeasure only grew, as she turned to look away from her mother, not entirely thrilled at whatever information her mother sought to hold from herself - from Jace. She knew once her mother's disappearance became known, he would be the most wroth of them all. And it would only be her who would have to deal with it (now that Luke... Rhaena, Joffrey, Aegon and Viserys were all gone.)

Rhaenyra pulled her daughter in for a tight hug, and Daenerys reciprocated, holding her arms tight round the stiff grey clothes of her mother, and laying her head on her chest. I hope you know what it is you are doing.

"Do not die," was all she said, and when Rhaenyra kissed her daughter on her forelock, Daenerys had pulled away the slightest, eyes larger than a full moon, and shining with worry for all the dangers that could possibly present themselves to her mother.

"Do not worry yourself," Rhaenyra said, smiling at her daughter as she caressed the side of her face. "I will not." And Daenerys seemed to relax in the slightest at that.

"Have Syrax take flight near wherever it is you are to go," Rhaenyra looked as if she were to consider contesting that advice, "or, as far as she can take flight without raising enemy alarms. If she should not do so, then I shall, though only she would know when your life is threatened."

Rhaenyra smiled at her daughter, holding her face in both hands now, and she said, "If this will ease your worry, then of course," and she kissed her daughter on the head, before turning to give Syrax a last look - the she-dragon crooned and shook her head as Daenerys would when she walked out from the sea, body soaking wet, eager to reach the warmer waters in her room...

Rhaenyra turned back to her daughter, and with one last touch of her palm on her cheek, she left.

Daenerys hadn't watched her mother walk away. She hadn't said any goodbyes... hadn't liked any of it, ever since both her fathers departed themselves from her life. (She remembers the many men she considered a father figure... let it be her own grabdsire, or the White Cloak Ser Harrold Westerling, who served her own mother from the time long before she was a babe. They were all either gone now, to the Stranger or Balerion or the Sea or the Roots of the earth, or so far from her that she could not hope to hear their breaths.)

Instead, the young princess looked on into the sapphire eyes of her mother's dragon, and only thought, 'You best protect her when the time calls for it,' which somehow managed to elicit a huff from the she-dragon, who stretched her wings and gave her one last look before she took flight.

No doubt, the dragon named after the Goddess of festivities and drink had seemed to say, 'As if I have not done that my entire life.'

And Daenerys smiled then, ever so slightly, the air around her cold, but the warmth in her palms providing some comfort to her.

[iheartemiliaclarke]

A very happy birthday to the One True Queen of the Seven Kingdoms 🎂 👸👑

[ladycatofwinterfell]

Every time Catelyn is excluded from a ladies in westeros edit/post/art/whatever because the creator hates her an angel loses their wings

[daenysthedreamer101]

Lady Sansa Stark

"I did what I had to survive, my lady. But I am a Stark. I will always be a Stark." (GOT 6x07)

[dreamedfyre-a]

firm believer there was no bedding ceremony when helaena and aegon married because she would cry and possibly kill someone

[chic-beyond-the-wall]

What Lacie Warmen would wear

[alienoryva]

Lady Daenys Targaryen (The Dreamer)🪻

[ladydreamfyyreee]

𝐈 𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐀𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭’𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐧!!! 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃!!

𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄!!!

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲, 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐜𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐇𝐘!!, 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐖𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 & 𝐕𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐬. 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐧 𝐀𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭’𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬!! 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐬?

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐀𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐞. 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐬, 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆!!!

[blackcat419]

Pugs in Westeros

If you aren’t obsessed with pugs as I am (have my own old fawn rescue) you might be surprised with pugs making an appearance.

Modern pugs are… to put it lightly… about as fucked up as the Targaryens are. The historical pug was bred in ancient China to be lap dogs for the Song Dynasty. Pugs arrived in Europe in the 16th century and from historical portraits, they look very normal!

Very normal dog with classic pug colorings.

Pugs gained popularity in the 19th and 20th century due to Queen Victoria being involved in breeding pugs. With the establishment of the kennel clubs in both America and England, breeders pushed to make the best looking show dog possible. This led to pugs having shorter legs, short muzzles, lots of extra skin, and many wrinkles.

So… if modern pugs exist in Westeros, who’s the fucker who decided to fuck them up?

Lady Redwyne bred pugs in Westeros!

I posit to the crowd that miss lady Redwyne was a fan of pugs and purposely bred them to have shorter faces, small legs, and lots of extra skin because she finds that cute!

Because lady Redwyne is also an older woman, pugs have come into popularity during King Jaehaerys I reign. The long era of peace could support longer trade routes and perhaps pugs were brought over from Yi Ti (planetos version of East Asia but everyone is super tall).

Anyways, pugs are part of Westeros and the Redwyne family breeds and loves pugs!

[nucuk]

two renaissassed ladies 🐺🎀🍋

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Sansa & Lady | Game Of Thrones

[nmoetoe]

ik everyone sees modern au sansa as a popular preppy girl but i cant get alt whimsigoth/fairycore sansa out of my head

- she was the little girl that makes potions out of flowers and river water and mud and sticks and tells her friends the best ways to make wishes

- very into fairytales and high fantasy, reads a lot. her siblings introduce her to skyrim and she has over 200 hours where she just wanders, gathers herbs and does alchemy

- foraging pro

- margaery is the art girl and they become friends after they bond over plant care

- crystal girlie

- always in her own world

- her room is like a treasure trove full of trinkets and little things she's collected

- deffo a creative. she loves sewing and making or customizing her own clothes. really into crochet rn

- has read a court of thorns and roses for sure

- was popular in primary school, started off the same way in secondary school but after her and joffery broke up, he spread rumors about her and she got bullied a lot. she found a good friend group later on though

- likes gentle whimsical music

- drags her family to ren faire every year, always dresses up

- arya is a wild punk girl, sansa is a rule follower, they dont get on until sansa joins a eco group at college that then chain themselves to an ancient weirwood to protest it getting cut down (i swear i had no idea we were going to do that) and almost gets arrested.

- trying to learn to read tarot

- avid cardigan wearer

- favourite colour is moss green, she wears it alot and it contrasts wonderfully with her hair