the-rose-of-winterfell

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"And you presume to know me so easily, Miss Stark?"

"Heavens, no! I've only known your for a short amount of time. Yet I simply want to bring some light into the the darkness of the puzzle that is Mr. Dayne."

~ Arthur x Lyanna, 19th century au~

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Arthur x Lyanna//modern au

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"Living in a cozy cabin, huh? Would you ever had imagined we'd end up here?", Lyanna murmured sleepily while stroking through Arthur's coal black hair.

"Nah", he responded, tucking lazily a strand of Lyanna's always messy hair behind her ear. "More like a house in Portland, with red bricks and blue window shutters."

Lyanna laughed. It was a heartwarming and easy laugh, melodic in its every octave.

~~~

Guess who got up her lazy ass...

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There where moments between Arthur and Lyanna that would always be in their rememberances, and only in theirs. Moments which would not last long but all the more intense and intimate. No, not due to acts of sexual intercourse but something far more personal and intimate.

Lyanna remembered the night she lived through one of implied moments. She found Arthur in his chambers, standing at the small balcony and obviously deep in thoughts. His tunic was opened, his waistbelt with the sheath in which his sword constantly had a place was thrown over a simple wooden chair.

"Arthur?", she asked cautiously, anxious not to startle him. But who could startle a man of his reputation, though? After her own experience, nothing could get him scared that easily. He turned his head to catch a glimpse of the delicate frame of Lyanna standing at the door. If the girl was only as soft as her stature... "Come in", he offered kindly. No matter how distant and serious Arthur appeared, he always had an open ear and kindness remained for Lyanna, his Lyanna.

When she approached him, wearing only her nightgown, he asked, "Can I help you?"

Her expression changed, from curiosity to concern. "Actually, it is my turn to ask you this question. What is it that bothers you?" Arthur was not used to such care, at least not since a long time.

"It is nothing, no need to worry yourself, my lady", he declined.

But she could see that he didn't speak the truth; she could read everything in his facial expressions, from the movement of his sensual lips to the change of his eyes. And his posture, of course. It was a skill that was very useful and, sometimes, very bothering. But not with Arthur.

"You can tell me", she encouraged him, "There is no one I could tell, well besides Jon, but I doubt he would show any interest." Her little son was now one year old, and he grew and throve day by day. Now many moons had passed since the three of them had flew across the Narrow Sea, living now in Pentos. They had thought about looking for a purposive house at Yunkai before, but it was a dangerous city, far too harmful for Jon. But now, living in peace, Arthur still had worries.

"Really", he insisted, "It's a rather minor problem." And with that, he confided that he did not want to talk about it. Lyanna respected it.

"All right", she sighed. In a sudden impulse, she took his hand in hers and softly urged him to come with her inside. Arthur himself was slightly surprised by her sudden boldness, but he did not object. When they stood there, only the light of the candles brighting up his chambers, Lyanna looked him in the eyes for a long time. She studied his handsome face, his sharp cheek bones, his sensual lips which still looked manly, his nose that fit perfectly in his face.

Arthur felt almost intimated by the piercing eyes of Lyanna. But most important, he felt sort of reliefed, eased. His eyes locked with hers for a few minutes, and they did not break it once. It was the most intimate thing Arthur had done in his life. Lyanna rose a hand to his face, tenderly touching his cheek with the tips of her fingers. She felt out the stubbles of his beard, the tanned skin that started to heat up. Her fingers, appearing like bony fingers of a ghost compared to his skin, traced the shape of his jaw and his cheek bones, the shape of his nose and last but not least his lips, their shape and their warmth.

Arthur's response to her tender touches were at first tense, but the more she touched him, the more he eased. Her hands became bolder as they wandered along his neck, feeling his pulse which has started to fasten. Lyanna smiled. She liked to have such an effect on him. She went down on his chest, but Arthur gripped her wrist, gentle but consequent. Her gaze fell upon his.

"Trust me", she whispered. So he did, hestitantly, but he did nontheless.She pushed his tunic aside, and Arthur slipped his arms out of the sleeves. There he stood, with his experienced and toned body. 'Beautiful', she thought. Both of her hands now started to explore his torso, wandering from his collarbone across his toned chest down to his muscular belly, tracing every line, every scar that marked him. 'Yes', she thought, 'Beautiful'.

For the sake of fairness, Lyanna opend the buttons of her nightgown and it fell down to ground. There she stood, exposed to him, bare to her feet but having no shame. Hestitantly, Arthur rose his hands and touched at first her shoulders, feeling the soft skin in them and their shapes. "You're beautfiul", he whispered in a low voice. He always told her she was, but this time, it was like the first time he did.

His hands wandered down, carefully cupping her breasts. Lyanna sighed with closed eyes, obviously at ease. She opened her eyes again, looking at him like it was the first time she really saw him. She closed the little distance between him and her and pressed her lips softly at his cheek, nearly not sensible. But he felt it intensely, felt the tickle running down his spine.

Now it was her mouth which wandered across his face. At first his jaw, then his cheeks and his nose, but only brushing his own lips. It was like a torture; he was longing for her kiss after all the things she did.

Finally, her lips found his, very gentle and light. They moved together, slow and tender. It was Arthur who deepened the kiss, making her grip his arms firmer. For a woman of her stature it was surprisingly strong. But this didn't matter; only their moment mattered.

Carefully, he pushed his tongue against her warm lips. She responded immediatly, but they did not become any faster or harder, no. Their tongues played carefully with one another, teasing each other. Lyanna's grip losened and her hands wandered to his back, feeling the always moving muscles, while Arthur's hands moved towards her but, pressing it gently and feeling its curves.

When they broke apart, he leaned his forehead against hers. Yet this moment didn't last; Lyanna led him to the bed, and both lied down, facing one another. They did not say a word; it was unnecessary. Instead, she stroke his cheek and he her bare thigh with his finger tips. They let their bodies speak, their touches. Both wished this moment - their moment - could last a life time, and yet both knew it wouldn't. For that, they had their many other little moments.

END

[the-rose-of-winterfell]

Arthur x Lyanna au

Love is a wicked game. It plays with peoples' heads, makes them do things they usuallly would not do , it can bring the best and the worst out of one's heart and above all, it comes unexpected.

Lyanna knew it had been building up for some time, she knew it exactly. Yet she tried to avoid and deny it, that aching feeling inside of her chest. Not because she did not want it, but simply because she couldn't. He couldn't. Both were not allowed to. 'I do love Rhaegar', she told herself, 'Don't I?' But as a matter of fact, she knew nothing about love.

'Love is sweet, dearest Ned, but it cannot change a man's nature', she used to tell her brother. How would she know? She was a green girl of six-and-ten years, who had never left her well protected home until she left with Rhaegar. And now, instead of giving the Dragon Prince her love, she was longing for his most trusted knight of the Kingsguard, the Sword of the Morning, Arthur Dayne.

She was longing for something she could never had, and even though she was aware of the fact that those feelings were not one-sided, it would never happen. They were both bound by vows and by fate. 'Mayhaps soon. Mayhaps in another life.'

And yet this small ray of hope didn't subdue the pain the sword and the she-wolf felt each time they looked at each other.

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moodboard; Arthur x Lyanna

Au, where Arthur had brought Lyanna back to Winterfell before childbirth.

~He was with her during the entire process of confinement. He cooled down her glowing forehead - which fomented his already great worries -. He watched over her while she slept, and he was with her when she gave birth to her child. He had wanted to leave, but Lyanna pleaded: "Stay, please." So he did, and he did not regret it. When the baby boy with the dark tufts of hair - as black as coal - was born and Lyanna allowed Arthur to hold him, Arthur knew what he would miss his residual life.~

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Yes for the al au

You mean my last post? Good to read that it's aproved, anon :3

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I have a good idea for an Arthur x Lyanna fic. Some of you might know that I've started a real fanfiction(Chapters and everything) but I never continued to write. It should have been an au where Lyanna forcefully marries Rhaegar. In Kingslanding, she's exposed to the many moods of Aerys, Rhaegar's father. She would eventually find a friend and ally in the legendary Arthur Dayne who would help her to escape. What do you think?

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Mythology of Ice and Fire - The Faith of the Seven

“Even Aegon tread lightly where the Faith was concerned … it was his son Maegor who broke their power, but even then the Faith came back under kings like Baelor the Blessed” (insp)

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I do have so many concepts and ideas, I just don't know how to materialize them

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I found my original *-* Here you go guys

It was undeniable that they arrived at the North; not only because the snow started to fall heavier and the clear and cold air but also because this was Lyanna’s homeland. Her livelihood. She felt thrilled…and scared. Many moons had elapsed since she had been here. In Winterfell. With her brothers and friends. What would they think of her, and Arthur, and Jon?

Arthur behind her had visibly struggles with his horse, a white and sturdy stallion. With his heels, he slightly kicked, no, he poked his sides to make the beast move faster. Nothing, not even a quirk of the horse’s ear. Jon, now a boy of 3 years, sat in front of Arthur in saddle and was apparently amused. He loved riding, like his mother.

“Give him a right kick”, Lyanna called out. “Our horses here are not like your scrawny, fierce horses in Dorne. Robust and stubborn but loyal until the end.”

Arthur as Lyanna suggested and immediatly, he was at Lyanna side, slightly embarrassed. Lyanna gave him a encouraging smile, although she knew he would not need it. Once he had his self-assurance back, he would love this beast. The girl examined the man who was with her and Jon for so long. During their journey, his dark hair had grown long, and his jaw and cheeks were covered in a slight beard of stubbles. His handsome face was the same, though. Stern and impenetrably, but also kind and well-known. Lyanna had learned to love this face, its purple and kind eyes, its expressive lips.

“You are staring, my lady.”

Her cheeks colored in a shade of pink.

“No, I’m not. I was just…reflecting.” To change the subject, she looked at little Jon and smiled warmly at him.

“How are you holding up, my dear?”

The little boy was obviously too distracted from the gleaming snow and the new sorts of trees around them to notice Lyanna. Arthur’s arms tightened around the child, giving him more stability. Both Jon and Arthur had changed their clothings miles ago, from light linenshirts and slight trousers to layers of leather and fur and heavy cloaks.

Lyanna knew how Jon felt. She would always be fascinated of the rough beauty of the North, then as now. She remembered how she played “Maiden and Knights” with her brothers in the weirwood grove of Winterfell. Well, she had always made Ned or Benjen be the maid; she always wanted to be the fearless and noble knight. They had argued about who should save the damsel in distress, which often ended of them being covered in snow and dirt. Lyanna sighed. It would never be like this. She could only hope that they would accept her, or at least Jon.

“Will they recognize me?”, she said loudly, unintended.

Arthur furrowed his eyebrows.

“Of course they will. They are your family, after all; your and their blood is the same.”

‘Yes, she thought, 'We are wolves. We are one pack.’ “I genuinly hope you’re right.”

Arthur reached for her hand with his own gloved one.

“Do not worry. Think of the things you, we, accomplished. You and your son will be with your family.” His kind words warmed her heart, let her love for him grow even stronger.

"You are family, too. I'll insist that you will stay."

"And I will have no choice, will I?"

"No." Lyanna smirked mischievously. Arthur noticed that her eyes had that gleaming again, this joy - he had not seen it in a while.

"It would be my honor, my lady, Im sure I will be useful. Besides, you did not think I would just leave the both of you, eh?"

The young woman hid her blushing face under her hood.

"Of course not."

For a while, they rode in silence; only the steps of the horses in the snow and their snort were to hear. Lyanna's eyes locked with the milky white sky. 'Yes', she thought 'everything will be fine...eventually.'

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Au // Dacey Mormont and Torrhen Karstark during the War of the five Kings

----

"It appears that the Lady Darcy Mormont has a particular interest in your son, Lord Karstark."

"And with particular you mean...?"

"She seems to be very fond of him. This seems to be mutual." A moment of silent passed before the squire went on with reddened cheeks.

"They have caught them in the forest, m'lord"

The aged Lord Rickard Karstark stroked in a thoughtful gesture his white and tauted beard. 'The passion of youth', he thought.

"She is an impressive wench, isn't she? It is truly a shame."

"What, m' lord?"

"That I have already promised Torrhen to House Tallhart's girl."

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Don’t fret! You can take as long as you need to write and do what ever is needed for the requests on your own time!:)

Thank you for your nice words :) :3 I guess I will kinda make it, though I start to write with my laptop instead of my cell.

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Sorry guys, I really start to give up. I was about answering a request of you, I wrote a really nice and long prompt. Then, I wanted to copy the text and safe it just for the worst case...but then, I deleted it by accident. Sorry, im so angry with myself, I can't go on with your requests. I'm really sorry.

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Stunning!

Hi!! I have a prompt for you! (Hope you're not busy!) but can you do a lyanna and arthur dayne fic about them raising jon together? Lol I've been thinking about them A LOT lately and idek anymore (I know I'm crazy. I'm sorry!!!)

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Yep, still fucking working on your prompts -.- Sorry guys. But here some moodboards for

this pretty damn long time

- They are heading north towards Winterfell, a little Jon on Arthur's horse

- Arthur has struggles with the northern horse, Lyanna explains that they aren't as scrawny and fierce as the dornish horses but they make it up with resistance and good- naturedness

- Lyanna notices that Jon is fascinated about the snow and northern landscape

- She thinks back to the times when she and her brothers played "Maiden and Knights"" in the weirwood grove of Winterfell (though she made Benjen or ned be the maid because die always wanted to be the noble and fearless knight)

- She wonders if her family will take her back and accept Jon

- Arthur assures her that they will because they are her family and they share the same blood

- Lyanna is grateful for his kind words

- She thinks that the clothing of the North - layers of leather and fur and a thick cloak- suits him well

- She tells Arthur that he's family too and that she'll insist that he would stay at Winterfell, mayhaps getting a commander position for the forces

- Arthur reacts humble but says that he'd love to because he doesn't want to be separated from both Lyanna and Jon

xxxxxxxx

Yeah, the text is shit but since I had already wrote it and tumblr was stupid and deleted it....again, I was a lazy fuck and I made kind of a summary

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My mercy prevails over my wrath

~~~~~

“You can do it right in front of me, you can tale my hands. I told you already, I’m going to kill you, all of you. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow… but nothing is going to change that, nothing. You’re all already dead.”

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Yes. Y.E.S.

Let the HMS Dicksa Saaaaail!

Look, we all know Dickon Tarly is not long for this world, but when has that ever stopped me from writing fic in which Sansa Gets Hers? So I present my one and possibly only entry into this wonderful but brief new ship! ALL ABOARD THE CRACK!FIC EXPRESS.

Dickon Tarly is not at all the sort of husband Sansa would’ve thought she’d want.

True, if the girl she’d been could’ve crafted a man to wed, he would’ve been much like Dickon- tall, strong, noble, and handsome. But Sansa hasn’t been a girl in a very long time, and she’d thought she no longer had any use for knights save Brienne. She barely had any use for men at all.

But with the Tyrells gone, an alliance with a strong family in the Reach had seemed wise, and at the very least, she’d reasoned, Dickon was a good man. Brother to Jon’s best friend, Sam, he was also something of a known quantity. She’d looked up into his face at their wedding and known that, at the very least, what she was seeing was all there was to see of Dickon. There would be no surprises.

And there hadn’t been. Subterfuge, schemes, slick words that twisted to mean one thing, then another…these things were as foreign to Dickon as a direwolf would be to an Essosi sailor. After her time at court and with Littlefinger, that was a relief.

No, the surprise was to be found in Sansa herself.

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