#Arya has more practical skills than Sansa

[whitedragonwolf4961]

Day 19: Intelligence, Skills, and Learning

In my humble opinion, Arya is one of the most intelligent characters of the series. The only people who rival her intelligence are the other key five and characters like Tywin Lannister and Littlefinger. Arya is a hundred times smarter than Sansa. Sansa believed that Joffrey and Cersei were wonderful people simply because they were beautiful. Arya on the other hand was able to see that there was more to them than meets the eye. Sansa still couldn’t see what a psychopath Joffrey was even after he sadistically hurt Mycha. Actually most of the older Starks (Ned, Catelyn, Robb, Sansa) all trusted the wrong person one time or another. But Arya and Jon and Bran (three key characters) avoid that flaw. Arya is also able to plan a coup of the Northern prisoners at Harrenhal. And let’s not forget that at that point she was ten years old. She is able to trick Jaqen, a Faceless man (and that requires immense cunning), into being stuck into doing what Arya wants by saying if he doesn’t help she will name him as the third name to kill. It works and Jaqen agrees to help her free the Northern lords trapped. Jaqen has Arya make hot broth from the kitchens which Jaqen and a few others would use to distract the guards and then kill them. It works. During this time Arya doesn’t reveal the plan to Hot Pie. Not because she doesn’t trust Hot Pie, but because Hot Pie isn’t the brightest nor the best at keeping secrets. Arya even makes an observation that Vargo Hoat (the psychopathic leader of the murderous Brave Companions) arriving would create a good distraction and later that he doesn’t cut the hands and feet off of the Northern prisoners despite that being something he enjoys (because Hoat changed sides and is now working for Bolton). Robbet Glover notes the cleverness of the plan. Despite Glover and the others being Northmen, Arya doesn’t reveal who she truly is because she doesn’t want Rorge and Biter to hear. And she never reveals her true identity to Roose Bolton which was good judging from Arya as it is eventually revealed that Bolton had betrayed her brother and if Bolton got his hands on the real Arya he would marry her to his monstrous son Ramsay Snow.

“I'm Weasel," she blurted, before he could tell who she really was. She did not want her name said here, where Rorge might hear, and Biter, and all these others she did not know.”ACOK Arya IX

So you might be wondering if Arya didn’t use Jaqen to escape Harrenhal then how did she escape? Simple. Planning to leave through the postern gate with Gendry and Hot Pie, there is one guard. Arya pretends to the guard that Roose Bolton is having her handing out silver coins to the guards as payment for their services. Arya uses the coin Jaqen gives her. She drops it. And when the guard goes to pick it up Arya slashes his throat and whispers ”Valar Morghulis”. Arya used Jaqen to help her get the Northerners out and then she cleverly escapes Harrenhal on her own with her friends. The whole Harrenhal arc was a great testament to how intelligent Arya is.

“It hurt that the one thing Arya could do better than her sister was ride a horse. Well, that and manage a household. Sansa had never had much of a head for figures. If she did marry Prince Joff, Arya hoped for his sake that he had a good steward.” AGOT Arya I Arya inherited her Aunt Lyanna’s skill to ride a horse. But as it turns our Arya can mange a household, something Sansa can’t do. That Arya can manage a household at nine years old shows high intelligence. “Figures”. I think that means Arya is good at math and numbers. But another one of Arya’s skills is her ability to make friends with just about anyone no matter age, gender, and most importantly social status. Arya makes genuine and meaningful friendships with many people and inspires fierce loyalty and protectiveness from them. Much more impressive than Sansa whose friendships are mostly shallow and meaningless. Arya has also shown that she is a great student when she tutors under Syrio Forel. Despite being a non conforming girl, Arya’s natural charm and ability to make friends with all, her skills at running a household, and how she protects her friends herself shows that she can definitely be a leader. PS: Special shoutout to my good friend @the-king-andthe-lionheart who helped me with this post greatly! She revealed to me what Arya did and how she did it! Not only did I get to make this post, I learned something new about Arya! Thank you so much my friend for your help!

#arya stark #canonarya #aryastarkmonth2022 #asoiaf #arya is immensely intelligent #she is ten times smarter than Sansa will ever be #Sansa could never do something like this #Arya has more practical skills than Sansa #Arya is one of the smartest characters #My longest post

[ladystoneboobs]

@buttercuparry #in my experience I don't think there are many people who would say Smallwood is comparable to Catelyn as Arya's mother figure#in fact Arya herself once says that she doesn't want anyone but her mom#mostly when people do bring up smallwood it is because of the kindness that Arya experiences after harrenhal#yes there's also a sentiment of whether Catelyn treating Arya a bit more gently would have#solved some of their misunderstandings and lady Smallwood is brought up as an example in those times but I don't think that is to say#that Smallwood should replace catelyn! that's never going to happen...#I also think there's a difference between Smallwood and Catelyn in the way grrm writes#the forced to bath and insistence into girl things carry annoyance but not shame

yeah, ik people aren't saying lady smallwood should end up as arya's mother, much less that arya would want her to. i am responding to the idea that she is better by being kinder to arya than her own mother ever was. ofc arya feels no shame with her, a complete stranger! why should she care what lady smallwood thinks of her? it's like the end of arya i agot with her saying it was worse to find both septa mordane and her mother in her room after skipping out on needlework. does anyone reallly think cat was even harsher than mordane? no? then the difference is her mother's judgment is what truly matters to her. ik in my own experience the thoughts of relatives whose opinion i care about, however they express themselves, affect me much more than even blunter judgment from those whose opinion of me idc about. arya wanted her mother's approval bc that was her own parent, her only mother, while she disliked mordane and would have given up on her approval as an impossible task years before. lady smallwood was certainly a lot kinder than the septa, but arya had even less reason to care about her approval.

yeah, i do think cat should have taken more care with her words, as i pointed out with "could be pretty" quote, but do y'all really think the only reason arya doesn't like gowns is bc she wasn't asked nicely enough to wear them? that sounds pretty close to the claim that she could be great at needlework with a better teacher. why can't we just say she's not gifted at needlepoint and doesn't enjoy it and shouldn't have to? why must we care about arya's potential needleskill when she can do basic sewing and has many other skills unique to her? arya's "wilfulness" and gender non-conformity are key, intrinsic parts of her, idt that was born all bc catelyn started out only being gentle with sansa's hair and dress while always harshly ordering arya about concerning the same. kids fight with their mothers, and are more liable to act out with them than with other people's mothers. i used to fight with my mom every single day about brushing my hair, and i can tell you asking me gently would not have helped, she was not choosing to have to chase me around the house every morning. does anyone think wolf-blooded tomboyish lyanna also had a mean mom?

#there's also the situation of being a hostage to bwb and still wearing bolton rags and smallwood saying that it is a death sentence

well, yeah, i'm not saying she shouldn't have been taken out of those clothes at all. it's just that 1 bath should have been sufficient to wash the stink off her and it would have been more practical to put her in boy's clothes from the start, or at least after the acorn dress. i'm not trying to hate on lady smallwood, i like her too, but the point is, when comparing ravella smallwood with catelyn stark, it must be noted that yes, only one is arya's mother, not just in the sense that arya loves her mother and only wants her, but bc children act differently with their actual parents than with other adults, strangers, parents of other children. arya didn't care about the lady's early attempts to bond with her through talk of needlework and her daughter, it was only at the end of the chapter when she spoke of her dead son that arya felt a connection. idt that one moment is enough to say their interactions were better than any arya had with her actual mother, or that she'd have a better, more easily feminine life if she only had a mother like lady smallwood.

#asoiaf #asoiaf meta #arya stark #catelyn stark #catelyn tully #ravella smallwood #idt i'm projecting here i'm not just like arya but my childhood memories do feel relevant #(c)lsb

[melrosing]

Do u have any future ideas where Sansa’s story goes? So many fans (not so much here) seem to reduce Sansa to be dumb/lacking any important skills and when you compare her to Arya/Jon/Dany who are learning alot it does seem like Sansa is the least equipped but she has to have some importance to the future plotline right, why else would she be a pov for 4 books?

No clear ideas on where Sansa is headed to be honest?? Like I do think she will ultimately end up in a leadership role, but her education so far has been all politics and little in the way of policy - i.e. she has learnt how to pick your allies and watch your enemies, plus the difference between carrot and stick methods in leadership... but she's learnt little about the more mundane policies that we see other characters with leadership arcs explore, e.g. Jon counting his beets, Dany struggling with the daily demands of Meereen etc etc.

So I'm curious as to how GRRM sees her story setting her up for leadership. Like I understand Sansa is a literal child and of course it's difficult to write how any kid would come to understand the nuances of managing a large region: Dany and Jon's arcs don't really fully pick up the complexities of this until the characters are about 15/16, and Sansa's only 13.

So whilst I do think she could be a good leader once she's 'completed her education' and comes of age, I'm not sure where GRRM could justifiably place her in the endgame given she'll still probably be no older than 15 by the story's conclusion (and more likely only 14).

All that said, I also find it really irritating the way people talk down Sansa in order to talk up other characters. I am v much aware that the reverse exists and I find that equally irritating. To speak solely on Sansa though, I think she has a different kind of story to some of the other protagonists but it is in no way inferior - the idea that 'passive' characters rank below 'active' ones in terms of who makes for a complex and engaging character with something meaningful to contribute.... is juvenile lol. You can have active characters who move a plot along at a breakneck speed, piling up skills on skills, but still have little in the way of characterisation or thematic resonance and end up being a bore to read.

Meanwhile, even where Sansa's only watching events take place around her, I always find her chapters visceral as hell, and some of her themes (like true knighthood/the songs/losing and finding your family) are practically the heart of ASOIAF. I love her story and I am v excited to read her next POVs.

#sansa stark #asoiaf #ask

[alicenttully]

“sansa’s feminity is defined by social constructs that the man made world created. its materialistic and performative and restrictive. it harms all women. thats not to say women can’t... enjoy certain aspect of it but the objective is female subjugation and that cannot be disregarded.”

There is just a.... lot with that statement.

First off, you can really tell that OP does not understand Sansa as a character (or girls like her) when they say her femininity is “performative”.  

Sansa’s interests in particular things aren’t her attempting to put on some kind of “performance”, it is a natural part of who she is. it would exist regardless of whenever she is canon Westeros or in a modern AU. Could you argue that Sansa has been shaped/influenced by the women around her (Catelyn, Septa Mordane, Margaery, Cersei) Yes, to a certain extent. Because Sansa “being a lady at three” (and going by normal developmental stages, would have been in diapers not that long ago) again suggests to me this is who she is inherently. Using words “performative” suggests falseness and that doesn’t work because a proper look at Sansa’s chapters would understand that her interests/desires/behaviour is sincere.  

Regarding her femininity being “materialistic” …. In that same post, the OP defines Sansa’s femininity as “fancy dresses, pretty embroidery, floral perfumes, dainty desserts, slippers on polished floors, music and dancing, love stories, traditional marriage, courtly intrigue, smiling when you want to cry”

I look at the statement above with OP’s own definition of Sansa’s femininity… and I’m like, where’s the bridge?

This is where you actually need to understand the words that you are using instead of just throwing them in to make yourself sound revolutionary.  The word “materialistic” means “excessively concerned with physical comforts or the acquisition of wealth”.

None of that really applies to the things OP listed.  First off, a lot of the items they listed “floral perfumes, dainty desserts, music and dancing” could actually be considered a form of self-care- that is to maintain “one’s emotional and spiritual health.”  Looking after yourself doesn’t just mean keeping a proper sleeping schedule or drinking water because self-care is unique to the person. Self-care is about that person making themselves feel good.  It is not materialistic.  

Let’s move onto “fancy dresses and pretty embroidery”.  I don’t think liking “fancy dresses” makes you materialistic. If it is, then why are so many Arya stans insistent on arguing that Arya actually likes dresses? Because being materialistic is defined as being “excessively concerned” so in other words, “overly, extremely” – so basically obsession. Sansa loves pretty clothes, but not to the point of being obsessed.  She understands the need for her to dress in simple clothing in the Vale, even if she resents it.  She was genuinely surprised by the dress fitting because Cersei neglected her clothes.

“Pretty embroidery” … I would argue (and somebody correct me if I’m wrong) but embroidery is related to sewing… and that’s actually a really important, practical skill that transcends class lines (something I’ve talked about before)?  People in Westeros – even the rich- simply do not have the luxury where if they were me, the local shopping centre is 10 minutes away by car and at this centre, I have thousands of dresses to choose from right then and there (if money wasn’t an issue) Instead, the clothing that Sansa and Arya wear (both at the beginning of their stories and throughout), as well as the clothing of Catelyn, Cersei, Arianne, Margaery, Daenerys, Beth Cassel, Jeyne Poole, to the small-folk (i.e. Pia) also took the time to make- but the difference lies in that Westeros hasn’t undergone a textile revolution where clothing can be produced at a mass-scale.  That dress Sansa wore for her wedding? Took weeks to make, and if something had happened it the day before- they would not be able to get another copy of it elsewhere.

Furthermore, there’s also the fact that sewing circles/doing embroidery together can actually be a way for women to bond, share conversations, perhaps hatch plans because it is done within a feminine space that their husbands/brothers/fathers don’t cross.

“Music and dancing”. How? Why? Loving music and dancing don’t make you materialistic.  Loving music and dancing- things related to the arts, is deeply human.  It brings joy to people, helps us to connect with others. People often use music as a form of self-healing. The same for dancing, which enables people to express and tell entire stories/send messages through movement.

Fuck off with this “materialistic” bullshit.

“Love stories”.

LOL, what?  How is liking love stories “materialistic”?

And if it is… then why are Arya stans also huge Gendrya shippers? (Which I also ship btw, although I definitely wouldn’t say I’m invested. I can take it or leave it.)

“it harms all women. that’s not to say women…can’t enjoy certain aspects of it but the objective is female subjugation and that cannot be disregarded.”

The issue with that statement is that it is IMO putting the blame entirely on women/girls who happen to enjoy these things naturally (for example, I like to wear pretty clothes because it makes me feel good) rather than the men in their society with the actual power.

Ned Stark might have indulged his 9year old with sword lessons but it is abundantly clear through his POV that he saw it as a passing interest. “She would tire of it soon”. Tywin wouldn’t even consider doing the same for Cersei.  Selwyn Tarth finally relented after Brienne broke three-four betrothals.

Sansa or any girl liking “pretty dresses, perfume, music, dancing, love stories” is not the thing driving female subjugation. You know what I tend to think of when reading the books? I think of how girls can be forced into marriages they don’t want/have their entire futures decided for them at the age of 11/12, be subjected to marital rape, queens being abused by their husband’s Kingsguard, a sex worker being murdered in bed, an eighteen year old girl’s virginity treated as a contest, that same girl being told by Tarly not to look to him for justice if she gets raped,  the fact that smallfolk women if Kingslanding had fallen would have been at most risk of violence/rape, the fact that women can be excepted to keep having more children even though it would be dangerous for them to do (Naerys, Alysanne)

Just… the amount of conscendation and arrogance in that statement (as well as the entire post) is staggering.  imagine thinking you’re writing some sort of feminist post only to degrade women/girls like sansa because they don’t fit your way of being. you do realize you are no different than the adults in arya’s life who keep trying to force her to be someone she’s not? smdh

#sansa stark #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #game of thrones #got #anti arya stans #anti arya stark #not really but to be safe #anti gendrya #ive often seen this post floating around and its always made me cringe #anti asoiaf fandom

[shieldofrohan]

I don't think GRRM explores the flaws in Arya's characterisation rather he explores how the world is unfair to her. Whenever I read Jon, Sansa, Dany , Robb and Bran, I feel they behave as their age requires them to be. They show capabilities yet are not exempted from bad choices which a character at their age can easily commit. With Arya, sometimes it feels like I am not reading a 11 year old kid but a grown up 25 year old woman who never messes up things or has any characterisation flaws which are not inherent within like the other child characters but those failings are primarily influenced by the society.

Hello Anon,

I have to agree and disagree with you.

I agree with that Martin writes Jon, Sansa and Dany better- MUCH BETTER.

I am obviously not a Daenerys fan but I enjoyed her character more than I did with Arya. I said it many times but I am going to say it again: Daenerys is the best written character in the series. She is much more interesting villain than man-pain Tyrion [looking at you Martin.. really, Tyrion?].

Objectively I find her character well written and interesting. But my problem with her is that her cult like fans who completely ignore her true position and characterization in the books. Hopefully in the future people will enjoy Dany character for the right reasons.

I felt like I need to explain my thoughts about Dany first to show my problems with the way of Arya was written by the author.

Arya is the WORST written main character. TRULY. Everything about her is so FAKE/FORCED/CLICHE/UNREALISTIC…

Author says that Arya is the underdog/outcast of the family. Does the writing show this?

NO!

She is literally her father's favorite child. We see Ned constantly favoring her, letting her do what she likes, he never scolds her, he makes time to talk with her about her traumas like losing a friend, he fcking finds a Water Dancer for her [but not a harp teacher for Sansa]. I have a great dad but jeez, even he never showed me this kind of devotion.

Catelyn seems like she knows her daughter well… we don’t see her abusing or ignoring her. She even acknowledges her struggles.

Her siblings love her. Even Sansa tries to keep include her into her own circle to enjoy things together, she covers for her against Septa Mordane.

As we can see, she seems doing fine as a tomboy girl in the family of 5 men/boys and 2 women/girls.

BUT SHE COULDN’T SEW SO SHE WAS BEING ABUSED.

Really? Wow she must be the only special snowflake who wasn’t good at sewing. I am sure rest of the girls in North were all experts. Arya is the only one who lacks some skill people and it made her super sad.

Fans tried to paint this as some "omg anti-feminism/sexism in society" thing and it feels absurd because Arya was bad at history and heraldy too..

A tomboy is not good at some female-coded skill is so fcking cliche for character building and I am not buying it. And this is BAD/LAZY WRITING.

Did Martin try to make her look like an underdog with this??

Well Sansa is not good at math? I am sure she had bad days because of this too but we didn’t read it. If you ask me Sansa (girly girl) being bad at math (male-coded subject) was more sexist than sewing and Arya thing [considering Sansa was good at music and playing instruments which require math but whatever.]

Arya is an outcast because she is not like other girls… WOW, it has never been written before, how did George come up with this idea? Meanwhile we have girls like Mormont girls so obviously she is not the only "NOT LIKE OTHER GIRLS MARY SUE".

Evil Mordane bullied poor Arya. Mordane is totally not good for her BUT Arya literally never listens HER TEACHER. I am not talking about her lack of skill in sewing. Arya simply NEVER listens anyone. She disobeys her septa, she declines QUEEN’s invitations rudely, she talks sh*t about CROWN PRINCE while princess is next to them.

Girly lessons like sewing weren’t the only lessons she was not into it…

Sansa would have known who he was, and the fat one too, but Arya had never taken much interest in titles and sigils. Whenever Septa Mordane had gone on about the history of this house and that house, she was inclined to drift and dream and wonder when the lesson would be done.

[ACOK; Arya VII]

She simply never cares about any lessons and she simply refuses to learn basic DECORUM. Yeah I am sorry that she had to learn things she didn’t want to but welcome to real world.

MY POINT IS: all these are so weak points to make her look like an outcast/underdog.

Don’t even let me start with Jeyne Poole calling her HORSERACE nonsense. I said it before so I repeat it: This feels so forced in the story considering Arya is the daughter of Warden of the North and Jeyne is some simple daughter of a simple man who works for Starks.

This is what author himself says about class system:

Q: What was the hardest thing in writing about such an alien world?

GRRM: The vast majority of fantasy is middle agey time wise, and he himself finds the period fascinating; glad to adopt it for novel writing - likes knights and castles and such. He objects to bad fantasy practice which adopts a time setting without accepting the culture - imposing 20th century values like the cheeky stableboy telling off the princess (in reality cheeky stableboy would lose his tongue - look what happend to Mycah); the class system was not just and ornament and these people truly belived in blood, and the rank and priviledge that came with "good" blood. [2006]

But Jeyne somehow had no fear when she was “bullying” a princess. Does this make sense to you or does it feel forced to make Arya look like a victim. And this bad writing keeps repeating itself while author writes Arya and when you realize this pattern you can’t unsee it and it ruins the books a little.

I wrote all these to explain what is ACTUALLY wrong with Arya as a character. I don’t blame Arya for the bad writing, I blame the author.

And I disagree with you a little when you said: "With Arya, sometimes it feels like I am not reading a 11 year old kid but a grown up 25 year old woman who never messes up things or has any characterisation flaws which are not inherent within like the other child characters but those failings are primarily influenced by the society.”

[I explained the her failings in society’s eyes part already.. that thing is a cliche and unrealistic writing]

I don’t agree with that reading Arya feels like reading an older woman. No it feels like reading a VERY UNREALISTIC AND DISTURBING CHILD. She totally makes mistakes:

Talking bad about prince in a room full of people, declining Queen’s invitations, not listening her septa and Sansa, making prince angry, hiding for 4 days while she should have gone to her father to deal with the mess so maybe Mycah and Lady wouldn’t be dead, attacking her sister, killing a stableboy, killing many other people, joining a assassin cult, killing a Black brother because she thinks she has the right etc..

She makes mistakes but we didn’t see her face any consequences. Will we see her face them?? When it comes to Arya I don’t trust GRRM. GRRM covers for her all the time. GRRM = Ned Stark. He favors her. I mean look at this:

Sansa saves Dontos who later molests her and he works for Baeslish who also molests her.

Arya saves Jaqen H’ghar and he turns out to be a Faceless Man who kills THREE people for her.

Sandor sexually assaults Sansa but not Arya [I am not saying he should!! But why is it always Sansa? Does the author punish Sansa for her beauty… ANSWER IS YES because I am done!]

Sansa trusts Joffrey and Cersei ends up the most hated character in the books [even author says she had a part in her father’s death and he is ok with fans hating her]

Meanwhile Arya’s spider senses tell her to not trust Roose Bolton or anyone etc.

Arya runs into people like Yoren or Harwin meanwhile Sansa… you got it.

Basically this is a simple case of author favoring a character and it happens in all books.

The only thing that indicates author knows she is not perfect is that him calling her a “psycho” or not disagreeing when fans call her a psycho [I know I usually make fun of this but actually this is not some good take about a child character especially if you say Starks- including Arya- are the heroes]

In conclusion: I think she is written terribly, she is the weakest part in the story and character building. I simply hate the way author deals with her character. I think she is not interesting. She turned out to be a very dark and disturbing child character and I have no idea what is GRRM trying to tell with her.

Thanks for the ask. Have a nice day.

#anti grrm #anti arya stark #anti arya stans #ask #answered #reply #anon #grrm critical #mine

[allovesthings]

Let's talk endgame for the Stark sisters and how Arya is NOT going to be in Sansa's service.

I think both of them are going to survive the last two books and I think that they are going to end the story with the a certain amount of power, in different areas based on the skills they are getting in theirs respective training arc happening right here (and even using the skills to be better than the adults having said skills right now: ie:Varys for Arya and Littlefinger for Sansa) .

I think there is a chance that Arya will either focus on actual justice (that one big theme of her arc), spying or creating reforms for the small folks (or diplomacy considering the five languages she is learning), I think Sansa on the other hand, will be dealing with southern politics (because that's what she is learning) and maybe reforms women's rights (to marry which is one of her big theme, ie: getting agency for the first time) ?

Arya is not going to be Sansa's executioner (like in the show , if someone kill Littlefinger, in the books it's going to be Sansa herself) because Arya, more than every other Starks (except maybe Jon) is the one who follows Ned's teaching to the letter and his first lesson has always been: "the one who pass the sentence should swing the sword" (which she constantly does even in adwd)

Also I kinda hate the idea that what Arya as a character is reduced to "Sansa's justice" when her training arc is about so many other things that are not just killing.

Since the show runners seems to have confirmed that Bran will be king (of what ? The North of the seven kingdoms ? Who knows ?), it's way more likely that both of them will be working for him rather than for each other at the end of it.

Now to the other point, will one of the Stark sisters be Queen in the North before the end of the story ? I don't know. Both Arya and Sansa have foreshadowing that could indicate it in different ways.

Practically, though... I think there is only two ways to get the title at this point, one require them to go North and i think Sansa could get the Vale's army to do just that but I also think that's more and more unlikely for both of them considering the weather and winter (Also she is considered Lady Lannister to the northmen, would they follow her after that ? )

The second is more likely in my opinion, it's through Lady Stoneheart who has Robb's crown.

If she meet one of her daughters, it's going to be Arya. Sansa has zero reasons to be in the riverlands and Arya will have to go there to get Nymeria and have been in the riverlands for almost half of the books, it's huge part of her journey. Arya is the one who is constantly trying to get to her mother since book 1, she is the one who pulled her out of the water. She is the one who was with the Brotherhood. I think what will happen is that Lady Stoneheart will gives her the crown and she gives it to someone else later on,(coughprobablyJonorBrancough).

#asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #sansa stark #arya stark #i think it would be funny if both of them were warden of a different part of the country #brandon stark #jon snow

[grrmartin]

Sansa becoming Queen or marrying a handsome man is regression of her arc. She starts out as wanting to be queen but later comes to realize that power is bad, that now all she wants is to go home. She realises that handsome guys can be assholes while ugly ones can be kind. She sees through all this facades of glamour. Sansa stans say Sansa grows as a character but then they want her ending to be completely like AGOT full of dreams.

I get that you guys think Jon Snow is a handsome man, but in canon he’s long faced, scarred and now is a fucking fire wight. Me shipping Jonsa has little to do with how cute he is, since I’m a gay lady.

Sansa wanted to marry the future king, a role in which she would have no power. She thought she would wear pretty dresses, and be glamorous, and it would be like a song. Sansa’s arc has come full circle because she is now the regent, the leader, the one who has decisions. She is not a pawn, she is a player.

Most of Sansa’s interest aren’t frivolous, they actually are what it takes to rule a peaceful kingdom. Fashion shows her position of authority. How people dressed was really important to signify wealth and power in the middle ages — as it is now. Songs help solidify national unity and patriotism, which is ultimately loyalty to the idea of the North. Sansa behaves well enough to be a diplomat. She knows how to impress people. She is merciful, loyal to her people (unlike someone like say Jon who bent the knee, if what we saw on the show is true, because he loved a genocidal tyrant after getting a head injury, if that’s your fave, or Arya who fucked right off to Essos rather than rebuild, or Bran who becomes King in the South).

Sansa’s arc was more about Northern independence than Arya’s, Bran’s or Jon’s. Jon’s arc was about The Others and The Wildlings. He considered leaving in book 1 but his loyalty was to the North. In the show, his loyalty was to Rickon and to a lesser degree Sansa when he took back Winterfell. In the books, his loyalty is to Arya. His siblings. His family. In the show he shows no desire to be king, it’s a burden, and he makes such bad decisions he ends up fucking trapped on an island and leaves Sansa to pick up the pieces of that bad decision. This decision of enlisting Dany ultimately led to the WW being able to cross the wall. Arya was forced to go on the run bc of Ned being declared a traitor. The North did not become independent until after she started her journey north. She was enslaved by her enemies and tried her best to save Northmen... but in the end, rather than go North, she went to Bravos and became a child assassin. She wants to go North not to take back Winterfell, but to see her beloved brother, Jon Snow. Bran leads Winterfell, but ultimately flees and chooses to go North with Jojen, beyond the wall, where has a magical arc and then becomes King of the Six Kingdoms. Sansa? Well she was beaten whenever Robb had a victory. Littlefinger wants to win back Winterfell for her. Winterfell is ultimately liberated because of the connections she has with LF and Sweet Robin. She then becomes lady of winterfell, preserving food and protecting her people. Against her advice, Jon takes the Northern armies south, gets captured, leads the Northmen in raping and killing civilians, has to kill his psycho girlfriend, who he abandoned his entire nation’s agency to bc he had Stockholm Syndrome.

Here’s Sansa arc: young girl who dreams of one day being an ornamental queen consort with no agency married to a pretty but evil prince, has her wolf murdered and then buried in winterfell bc ned never wants to ensure the lannister’s get sansa’s wolfskin, joffrey exposes himself as evil and kills a part of sansa’s soul (lady) but still is forced by the rules of feudalism to marry joffrey because she is his property and tries to make the best of it, despite losing lady her inner wolf is awoken after joffrey kills her father and she is eyes wide open about the reality of it all (in book 1...), is then beaten constantly and publicly humiliated anytime the North wins, tries to escape, refuses to escape with bad dudes like the hound (who openly admitted he wanted to rape her to arya...), thinks she’s escaping with dontos but is put into the arms of a pedophile, goes to the vale and practices her ruling skills but hears ghost wolfs (either a reference to ghost or lady), is forced to become a bastard to survive but her true self keeps showing through, ends up liberating winterfell and reuniting with jon, is manipulated by LF but ultimately has him killed, leads through her kindness and compassion in the crypts of winterfell, essentially organizes day to day functions of WF and the north, when Jon is imprisoned leads an army south to get him back, gains independence for the North, the Northerners want her as queen. She is a queen regent with power to exercise good and not simply a prop as she would be with Joffrey. That’s a fucking arc. If you don’t admit it makes sense you’re just biased.

#sansa stark #anti arya stans #anti dany stans #asks

[justadram]

It’s dark!Jon...pt5

Post-series, but started before we got anywhere close to S8, so AU post-series, where Jon came back from his resurrection different...

[Parts One, Two, Three, & Four]

Jon fled her. Sansa’s body freely offered, the thing he’s wanted for moons, put him on his heel. Her letter, which threw them into crisis, crushed beneath his boot, as he stalked from the room.

She watched him from the window, as he joined her siblings below in the yard, taking out his frustrations with a wooden training sword that splintered from the force of his assault. Hair falling from the leather that should hold it back, he looked more animal than man. Or more Wildling, perhaps. Fingers wrapped around the stone sill, she traced his movements, listening to Rickon’s shouts and the unnerving silence of Arya and Jon. At turns elegant and then harried, Jon parried Rickon’s thrusts and struck his wrists, when he let his guard down.

Arya says Rickon will never be the swordsmen Robb was. He is too eager, too frantic. His face gives everything away, so no attack comes as a surprise.

Jon did not look any less unhinged, however.

Particularly when his gaze fixed upon the window and she did not withdraw from his view. He is all strength and skill and violence barely held in check. She trusts she is safe from the possibility of that violence being turned on her. She knows it. Though he would not hesitate to tear to pieces anyone who threatened her.

He would kill for her. Easily and without hesitation. After the things done to her and her family, there is something beyond comfort in that, something that holds her in thrall.

Transfixed, she stared, remembering the warmth of his touch and his breath ghosting over her skin. Barely restrained need pouring off him.

It would not be hard, she thinks, to allow him to take his pleasure in her. To spread her legs and have him crawl between them and over her. Whatever it has been before, this would be different.

And yet, when her door opens without warning after a supper where he did not join them, panic grips her. It is his state of half-dress, tunic pulled free from his breeches; it is the furrowed v between his brows and the set of his mouth, as the door closes with a thud behind him, leaving them alone in her chamber in a house which has gone to bed and echoes with silence.

Sansa is most comfortable when the game is on her terms, when she has planned for the desired outcome and staged each step. She ought to have practiced what she would say, how she would move, and what to attempt first, should he come to her like this. But she did not.

Until she regains control of this scene, she can’t stop the flutter of her heart, rapid like the wings of a trapped bird. A wrong move and she might spoil everything and lose him.

She comes to her feet before her table, where she distractedly failed at readying herself for bed.

Though the hour is late, she has not gotten further than taking her hair down. Preoccupied by thoughts no doubt similar to those that have set him tugging on his until his soft curls stand up in clumps, she sat unfocused, staring ahead at nothing.

She swallows thickly, pushing down the panic, so that her voice does not shake from it. “Would you care for spiced wine?”

“No.”

Blunt and uncompromising in his reply, but his answer is no real surprise to her. He takes very little in the way of drink or sustenance. Everything in moderation.

She would suppose it a sign of the self-discipline of the Northern boy that was, but that is not the cause. He derives very little from indulgence of any kind. Perhaps he gains nothing from it.

He still has desires. She knows herself to be one of them. And just as it is in Rickon’s nature to be wild and she has managed to gentle him, she thinks if she tends to Jon’s shadowed spirit, healing what is broken, he will draw pleasure once more.

“I haven’t come for mulled wine.”

His voice is low, scraping alone her spine and bringing bumps to her skin that tingle, her body begging for something new and dangerous.

“What then?” she asks, clasping her hands before her, as he moves closer, his head angling until the lone candle’s light does not catch it.

“I would know something.”

A gentle smile tugs at her lips, an expression of ease, though her heart still races. “Go ahead. Ask then.”

“You offered yourself to me.”

She wets her lip, preparing for the weight of her response. “Yes.”

“For whose benefit?” he asks, stopping close enough that his grey eyes become clear to her once more, though he remains in shadow. “Do you lie abed, thinking of your brother’s hands upon you?”

Sansa sucks air in, unnerved by the baldness of his question. The chill, his words, they send the raised bumps along her skin racing farther, up her neck, into her scalp. It pricks her low too.

Head tipped down, she threads her fingers tight, blinks her eyes, and then meets his penetrating gaze once more.

It is not only a solution to a problem—how to keep him for their own, so they might not have to share—it is also the promise of something good. Comfort, gratification, a family. Why should she not want that with him? In whatever manner they were raised and under whatever pretense, he is her cousin, a suitable match that her own Lord Father might have sought to bring about, should it have been within his power to do so without endangering those he loved.

She only has to overcome Jon’s reticence, which she admits for all her great understanding of human nature, she cannot guess the source. Considering he seems to have no compunction about anything else in this world, he should have none about bedding her.

“Ought I not to?” she asks, turning to the side to reach for the pitcher of wine set on the edge of her table. “You don’t mind if I indulge, I hope, even if you mean to abstain.”

In wine, in pleasure–she let’s the true meaning of her words go unresolved, hanging there between them.

She’s proud of how still her hands are, as she pours. Even as he steps in close enough that she would have to brush against him to slip away from the table. Even as he rests first one hand and then the other on either side of the table, fingers splayed, trapping her between his outstretched arms. Leaning in, his knee bends, folding the skirts of her gown between her legs.

Her fingers wrap tighter about the goblet, the practiced calm of a moment earlier threatening to abandon her and stain her skirts red.

“Don’t tease,” he says, raising a hand to lift her hair away from her neck. His fingers twirl round a lock, once, twice, until it goes taut and her scalp prickles. “Even a kept dog will bite.”

“You’re not a dog,” she says, bringing the goblet to her lips.

“Doubly so a wolf.” He lets the hair unwind, abandons that torture to trace her hairline just behind her ear, as she holds the wine in her mouth, curled over her tongue, pressed against the roof. “Don’t push too hard. Whatever I am, I do not care to hurt you.”

She swallows, presses her lips together, and notes the answering drift of his gaze from the path of his hand to her mouth.

“You think nothing of slashing at Arya with a sword. I mend your wounds, so I know there is little restraint practiced there.”

His chest inflates and falls again. “Arya stills her impulses for your sake. But they must have an outlet.”

“We all have impulses.”

“Aye.”

“We are human. You are human too,” she says, words rushed, so she might not give him a chance to object to her assessment. “Let me give you pleasure. Is that not an outlet? I am not so innocent that I don’t know how.” She ducks her head in, goblet pressed to his shoulder, whispering against the shell of his ear, “You would not hurt me.”

Hands clasped to her shoulder, he shifts her back, sitting her atop her table with the straightening of his arms. The wine in her goblet sloshes, almost cresting the rim. Her attention flicks from the wine to his steely glare.

“I would not debase you either,” he says, fingers digging into the thickness of her gown so that she feels their bite.

“A crisis of honor?” she asks, resting her cheek against his tendon roped hand. “We might wed. I’ll forgive you for not asking me first.”

“Honor?” he asks, mouth curling like a storm cloud approaching. “I think night and day on what you would taste like.”

His lips are full. Full and rosy above his beard. She can almost imagine the feel of them slanted against her, warm and demanding.

In the quiet of her chamber, she can hear her own thin breath and her pulse, pounding once more at the slow tilt of his head. The way he’s looking at her, his gaze fixing on her collarbone, her waist, and back again, feels like the touch of his roughened hand. He would bow her back, drag her hard to his chest, and anchor his hand at her hip. She can see it in her mind’s eye and she wants it too.

She’ll give him the permission he needs for some reason.

“You may kiss me.”

“Kiss? Here?” he asks, smudging her lower lip with the flat of his thumb.

The nod of her head against the press of his thumb breaks the seal of her lips. The tip of his thumb dips between, drawing wetness onto her lip. Her breath catches, her teeth closing instinctively over his flesh. Not hard enough to hold him fast however.

“It’s not precisely what I had in mind.” His laugh is breathy and voiceless, as his hands drop back to the table, taking a white-knuckled hold of the edge. “You’re more innocent than you think.”

She sets the goblet down beside her, grasps his arm and gently disturbs the gauzy linen of his tunic with a slow caress. “Show me then. Teach me.” Her thumb follows the line of his firm muscle, flexed in restraint. All potential, checked power. “There is appeal in that, is there not?”

The noise he makes could be another laugh caught in his throat or it could be a truncated growl. It’s raw, accompanying the rake of his eyes over her. They follow the same trail, marking her and leaving her hot beneath her grey woolen gown.

“Jon,” she says, rocking her hips over the unforgiving surface of the table. Several things dart through her spinning mind, things she might say or promise to tip the balance. None seem right. She’ll give him the truth and what he does with it, is beyond her control. “I have not had the benefit of a man’s touch, who wanted me for myself.”

The distance between them, the sliver of space that has divided them, evaporates in a rush. His hands seize her waist and pull her closer, to the edge of the table, until she’s flush against him. The air in her lungs leaves her in a gasp. Fingers digging into her hips, his other hand skates up her side, mapping her shape, until his fingers are tangled in her hair.

“It’s me,” he says, as if she doesn’t know.

But she does. “I know, Jon.”

Hand spread, fingers tense, he brings her mouth to his. It’s intoxicating. More so than the wine. Though incongruently tender, the feel of him—his mouth, his tongue, his pelvis and chest firm against her—is like a shock. For though she’s just said it, reaffirming his statement, it’s Jon. It’s Jon, it’s Jon, it’s Jon.

A forceful hiccup of need slants her mouth against his, deepening his unhurried kiss. He follows. Matching the hard grip he has on her, his kiss turns demanding. His tongue finding entry. He tastes of nothing. Not food, not the spiced wine she must taste of. Neutral, wet, Jon.

She moans into his mouth, dragging her hands over him, pulling him down to her. His hair is soft, silky under her questing touch. It slides through her fingers.

She has watched him watching her. Has tempted him and wound the net tighter about herself and now she is in his arms with his mouth moving against hers, and his strong hands holding her fast.

Jon, Jon, Jon.

She can’t catch her breath. It’s never been like this. This drowning, coiling feeling.

Clinging to his shoulders, the slit of his tunic falls open and she grabs for bare skin, to anchor her against the pull. Trailing her nails over him, she hears the needy sounds she makes at the hot feel of his mouth, as if they come from someone outside of herself. It is beyond her control. No accompaniment to a planned seduction, no bawdy mummer’s show, she is slipping into something dark and deep over which she has no command.

He grabs her thigh and hitches it over his waist. A low moan sounds from the back of his throat, as he draws back an inch and then assaults her again, this time with teeth and a hand grappling at her back. She needs more, and hates the thickness of her gown’s skirts caught between his legs, hates how it blunts the feel of his hand on her back.

Perhaps he despises it just as much, for he growls at her throat, as her head lolls back. The sound is urgent and full of building frustration. He pants, hand scrambling at her back, and she realizes what he’s about after he’s already tugged her laces hard enough to untie them and freed one loop, loosening the wide neck of her gown.

It wasn’t just his looks that made her feel naked: he will strip her bare.

Jon.

Only the pressure of his body folded into hers keeps her gown from falling free of her breasts, as he pulls the laces from each loop, lower and lower. Until his hand slides free up and under her chemise against the flesh of her lower back in concert with the drag of his teeth against her bare shoulder.

Her leg slips and he adjusts her up higher again, so she feels him, and she’s ready to fall back against the table. Ruck her skirts up. Give over to whatever he will take.

But he stops. He goes still against her. Head perched above her shoulder and breath coming fast over her bare flesh, he stops his kisses and fumbling.

“What is this?” he asks, hand ghosting over her back, impossibly gentle, despite his hunger a moment earlier, despite the edge in his voice, sharp and foreboding.

His finger follows a line she can’t see even craning her head to the side, but she knows what’s there. She’s seen them in the reflecting glass, when she turned her back and twisted to glance over her shoulder. The white, faint marks that remain.

“Scars from childhood.” There’s a pain forming in her chest. The root cause either the pain of the memory itself or fear of his reaction to it, of his rejection. “I’m sorry they offend.”

“You were not touched here with such violence as a child,” he says, pulling away from her, confirming his disgust.

The motion causes the dress to slip. She fans her hand across her breasts, preventing herself from being exposed.

He adjusts himself with the heel of his hand. His gaze riveted to hers, his neck flushed.

“No, but I was still a child in King’s Landing, which is where I earned them.”

“Who?”

She shakes her head, sending half of her hair cascading over her shoulder. “They’re all dead, Jon. Be at peace.”

“I can never know peace.”

“I know you can. I am at peace with it and I will remain so, so long as no blood of mine is ever sent from here again,” she says, catching the neck of her gown to pull it higher.

His eyes narrow, fixed on the hand that holds the gown up, preserving her modesty. “Put aside this notion.”

“Of us? Because I am imperfect?”

His lips pull back to show white teeth in the darkness. “No. What you want, I can’t give you.”

“Who else could?” she demands. “I would not forego one desire of mine from childhood: children. My own, and the thought of some evil befalling them keeps me awake, though they are not yet made real. You are the only man who I might trust. With myself,” she says, hand sliding over her shoulder to absently touch her scars. “With them.”

He reaches out, covers her hand with his own. It’s a heavy weight, a promise waiting to be made.

“Can’t you picture them? Dark of hair. Grey of eyes. Fierce little direwolves? Perhaps a gentle girl or two for my sake?” she presses, biting her lip against a smile.

“No child of yours will go South. No Stark will be made to leave these halls, so long as I draw breath.”

“Swear it?” she asks, turning her hand so they knit together, hers and his.

“Sansa.”

His grip is tight. Painfully so. But she doesn’t blink.

“You win. We’ll wed. Though you may come to regret it.”

#jonsa #jon x sansa #gotfic #dark!jon #game of thrones #fanfic

[mizznancywheelerfic]

Unfinished Jonrya draft

If I Needed Someone. rated M! jon snow x arya stark.

You'd the one that I'd be thinking of..

----

Prince Jon Targaryen stood at the side of the chamber door.

He looked upon his cousin, Arya Stark, in practice. She was a water dancer, skilled in the Braavosi style of combat. In this, Arya was nothing short of a marvel. Jon awed at her swiftness and grace as she focused entirely on her dance about the room with her Braavosi blade. The very blade Jon procured for Arya on her name day the year before. All in all, Lady Arya looked both elegant and lethal in her exercise. Jon could barely take his eyes off her.

That's how it had been lately.

When Arya finally noticed he was at the door, she broke out in her usual toothy grin. "Jon, I didn't see you!"

Jon closed the door behind them and stepped inside the chamber. "You left the door open. I figured it would be best if I didn't disturb your dance."

Arya placed her blade atop one of the side tables rushed over to Jon's side. Her arms flew around this neck. "You could never disturb me, Jon."

Those words made Jon smile. He reached over held Arya by the waist. At this, Arya's widened and Jon felt just as flushed as Arya looked down at where her hands were resting. This sort of closeness was new to them.

"Today is your name day?" Jon asked in effort to ease the tension.

Arya turned her gaze back to Jon. She rolled her pretty gray eyes despite her red cheeks. "You know very well that it is my nameday. I'm turning nineteen-years-old. Far too old to be unwed. This is the very age when my mother arranged for a ball so that I may court all the suitors she has in mind."

Jon leaned down to kiss her on the lips, soft and tender. The kiss was short as he moved his mouth to one of her ears. "And is that what you want?"

Arya shook her head. Her voice was hoarse. "Never."

Her answer and voice sent a thrill of desire through Jon. He felt bold. "What is that you want then, sweetling?"

His question was met with the exhilarating feeling of Arya's hands gripping his face and bringing his lips to hers. The kiss that she started bloomed into a desperate expression of want as the pair licked and nipped at each other.

Before long, Jon felt himself be pushed onto Arya's bed. She was crawling over him. Jon tried to match her frenzy in undressing.

---

The first time Jon and Arya were intimate fell two weeks past in The Red Keep's godswood. Though the godswood was not Jon's favorite place in the keep, he found some enjoyment when he was there with his cousin, Arya. In truth, no one ever went there save for Arya, Lord Ned, and Jon's mother, Queen Lyanna. A place for only those with the North in their blood. So, when Arya could not be found inside the castle, Jon set forth to the godswood.

When Jon found Arya she was crying at the base of a tree.

"What's wrong, dear cousin?" Jon asked as he walked over and sat next to Arya.

Arya took a moment to look at him, trying to quickly wipe her tears from her eyes and rub away her sniffles.

Not for the first time, Jon thought about how beautiful Arya had become as a woman. Her hair would always be in tangles but it was dark and thick, begging for fingers to run through. And even though her face was red from crying, her fair skin took on the rosy hue quite well. Quite frankly, the pout her mouth formed into was alluring. She looked ready to be kissed.

But Jon had to put aside those thoughts. It wasn't becoming of a prince to lust after his lady cousin.

Arya peered up at him through her dark long lashes. Her voice was bitter when she answered question. "My lady mother said I'm to be married."

Jon felt his stomach sink. "To whom?"

Arya ripped grass from the ground where they sat. "That's just it. They don't have any betrothed. Instead, Mother insists on ruining my name day with some stupid ball with stupid lordlings that I don't want anything to do with."

The explanation didn't make Jon feel any better. "Is that so bad?"

Arya looked incredulous. "You don't understand. You're a Targaryen prince. You can have whatever lady that you like at whatever time you want. And that's if you want to marry. I have to be passed around like a prized horse. I want to have adventures like you do. Truly, I'm not like bloody Sansa. I can't prance around for compliments because I'm not some pretty perfect lady."

"You're much prettier than Sansa," Jon said without thinking. He moved his hand over Arya's own. To Jon's pleasure, Arya did not move her hand away.

Arya scoffed. "Don't be stupid."

Jon moved his hand from Arya's in order to push back a wild strand of Arya's hair from her face. "It's not stupid to think that you're the most beautiful girl in King's Landing."

Arya flushed even redder. "Is that what you think?"

Something about the question set Jon ablaze. He wanted to show Arya precisely how true his words were. As he considered how best to convey himself, Jon moved his hand to Arya's mouth and thumbed her bottom lip.

Jon's voice was low and measured when he spoke."You're the only girl here that even catches my eye. I love to look at you, Arya."

To his surprise and breathless arousal, Arya opened her mouth and sucked on his thumb.

When Jon pulled his hand away after a few seconds of enjoyment, he tried to straighten himself out as much as possible. He very much hoped that his erection wouldn't be too obvious.

But, Arya was nevertheless spurred on. Instead of following his lead, she leaned into the spark he set forth. Arya quickly moved over and jumped on to Jon's lap, straddling her princely cousin.

Jon sighed when Arya's lips met his for the first time. They kissed slowly but wantonly. When Arya moved her lips off to catch some breath she whispered, "You don't know how long I've wanted to kiss you. I just--I just never thought you'd like your boyish younger cousin."

Jon kissed her once more. He put his hands around her waist. "There's nothing boyish about you, Arya."

Arya smiled. Her gray eyes scanned him up and down. "You know, I rather like looking at you as well.In particular, you're exceptionally appealing when you're sparring. You're so strong and deadly. No other man in the yard compares."

Her salacious words were intoxicating. Jon felt bold enough to slide from Arya's waist to hips and slide down to grip her firm behind.

The kissing deepened and the touches firmer as the heat of the moment intensified.

Without any thought, Arya was soon flat on her back. Jon hovered above. He took a look at the young woman underneath. His fierce and fearless Arya was flat on her back, her legs wrapped around his waist, and her bodice unlaced with small breasts on full display. Jon felt his mouth go dry.

As astonishing as she looked, Jon knew he had to stop. He had to protect Arya's honor. He couldn't withstand of a unintended pregnancy. So, he gathered all his sense together.

Arya looked confused. She propped herself up by her elbows. "Is there something wrong?"

#jonrya #jon snow x arya stark #fic #m #draft #wip

[thebluelemontree]

Is it wrong to say that Sansa uses an out of sight out of mind coping mechanism? I noticed it because it's what I do a lot. I know some ppl say she rewrites traumatic memories to make the memories bearable but it doesn't make sense. If that was how she coped, wouldn't she have been telling herself lies about Joffrey still in acok? Or found a way to erase/rewrite Marillion's attempt to rape her?

Yes and no. She does that except all the times she doesn’t. ;) I think that characterization is extremely reductionist (and ignores character complexity and  growth) when it’s applied that broadly to every situation Sansa has been in. You have to take these things instance by instance because they aren’t all the same. Sometimes that labeling doesn’t fit at all. In many cases, it feels more like the fandom pathologizing the act of romanticizing or trying to push aside or reframe something unpleasant or even traumatic when that’s just something most human beings do now and then. Some do it more than others, but its all within the realm of typical coping behavior and being older or more educated or more “logical” doesn’t make one immune to it. So I hope you don’t let those interpretations make you feel abnormal or more fallible for identifying with Sansa in that way. Romanticizing doesn’t even have to be about coping at all, but simply expressing desire through daydreams. People imagine being in idealized scenarios with crushes all the time.  

You also hit the nail on the head. Sansa just doesn’t go around making up false narratives about every objectively awful thing that happens to her. In fact, her actual responses to those moments can be a useful basis for comparison when we’re analyzing the unkiss, for example. Misunderstanding the unkiss is usually where a lot of these assumptions stem from. That’s a whole other can of worms in itself. The unkiss is just too long of a discussion to put here, so I just recommend this post as to the reasons why it isn’t about trauma and take a browse through my unkiss tag. It does bear repeating that Sansa factually remembers every scary thing that happened during the Blackwater and why it happened, indicating she has processed it honestly and critically, before any incarnation of the unkiss happens. The unkiss is a mismemory added on to the facts, which began as her being the actor that kissed him first. It’s not a lie to deny the facts or to excuse his behavior. It’s regrettable to her that Sandor was not able to be the person she could rely on to get her out of KL at that time. Nonetheless, this repressed desire is just so strong in her that it manifested in a kiss so real she could remember how it felt after the reality of his leaving KL for good sank in. 

Early AGOT Sansa tended to want to move past unpleasantness rather quickly. Just sweep those red flags under the rug so everything can go back to blissful harmony. Sansa is naturally averse to conflict and just wants her present with the royal family to be smooth sailing into a bright future. Ned had a very similar tendency when it came to concerns over Robert’s true character. He saw things that disturbed him, but he hoped and clung to his idea of Robert anyway. For Sansa, this resulted in some misplaced blame and rewriting events so she could deal with the aftermath. This is mostly seen in her processing the Mycah incident after Lady’s death and how her perception of all the characters involved shifted in varying ways. This is after she knew perfectly well what really happened, because Ned says Sansa had already told him the truth of what Joffrey did while Arya was still missing. However, it would also be unfair to completely chalk this up to Sansa’s idiosyncrasies. We have to put her flip-flopping in the context of the situation as well. She’s also experienced a gutting loss with Lady’s death and the fact that the first blow to her innocence was her father volunteering to put Lady down. She doesn’t have Catelyn to go to with her confusion and hurt, and Ned has largely been silent. She’s also still engaged to Joffrey through all this, this is still a patriarchy, there are political ramifications to speaking against a crown prince, and she doesn’t know how to deal with seeing such cruelty and vindictiveness in her future husband. Especially when he responded to her tender concern and wanting to help him with venom and hate. 

I mean, jeez, she’s 11. I don’t expect an 11 year old to understand how to identify the signs of emotional manipulation or see how this situation can escalate into domestic violence. Just because Sansa can’t articulate what is happening within her relationship with Joffrey, doesn’t mean she has blocked out any notion that Joffrey can turn his anger on her. Part of the reason she misplaces blame on Arya (and rewrites what happened) is because Joffrey turns scornful of Sansa for being a witness to his emasculating shame. He punishes her with the cold shoulder because she didn’t immediately take his side and pretended not to see instead. He regains power through making Sansa feel small and fearful of his moods. 

“He had not spoken a word to her since the awful thing had happened, and she had not dared to speak to him.” -- Sansa II, AGOT.

Sansa looked at him and trembled, afraid that he might ignore her or, worse, turn hateful again and send her weeping from the table. -- Sansa II, AGOT.

This is coming from someone who is supposed to love her and someone she will spend the rest of her life with. To fix things, she must be unequivocally on Joffrey’s side going forward or suffer the consequences, which we can see happening as her story completely flips over breakfast sometime later. This is not saying Sansa is fully exonerated from not supporting her sister when she needed her, but that it’s understandable how she arrived at this point. Even when things start to get really bad after Ned’s arrest, Sansa still holds out some hope that she can appeal to Joffrey’s (and Cersei’s) love for her to get him to be merciful. Is it really her fault she believed a part of Joffrey really loved her (and thus was reachable by her pleas) if he also heavily love bombed her and treated her like she was the most special girl in the world? Love bombing is a classic feature of the seduction phase leading up to abuse.  

So we can see Sansa does ignore truths and rewrite events sometimes and her personality is a factor; however, the context surrounding it matters a lot. Post Ned’s execution, Sansa does a full 180 regarding Joffrey and Cersei.

Sansa stared at him, seeing him for the first time. He was wearing a padded crimson doublet patterned with lions and a cloth-of-gold cape with a high collar that framed his face. She wondered how she could ever have thought him handsome. His lips were as soft and red as the worms you found after a rain, and his eyes were vain and cruel. "I hate you," she whispered. -- Sansa VI, AGOT.

Once she had loved Prince Joffrey with all her heart, and admired and trusted his mother, the queen. They had repaid that love and trust with her father's head. Sansa would never make that mistake again. -- Sansa I, ACOK. 

"A monster," she whispered, so tremulously she could scarcely hear her own voice. "Joffrey is a monster. He lied about the butcher's boy and made Father kill my wolf. When I displease him, he has the Kingsguard beat me. He's evil and cruel, my lady, it's so. And the queen as well." -- Sansa I, ASOS. 

There’s also her conscious efforts to push away thoughts of her dead family and Jeyne Poole, but she states why she does that. It’s traumatic, the tears start flowing uncontrollably, and she is desperately trying to avoid falling into another suicidal depression. Her survival in KL depends on her holding it together and appearing loyal and obedient to Joffrey. Mourning her loved ones would imply to Joffrey she is plotting treason. Besides, she knows that even if she did ask Cersei or LF about Jeyne, she has no reason to believe they’d do anything but lie to her face in a patronizing way. There’s no point being plagued with wondering what the truth might be when she can’t do anything about it. Still, she prayed for Jeyne wherever she might be. She genuinely thought Arya had made it to WF on the ship and was safe at least until she got word of her brothers’ deaths and her home being sacked by the Iron Born, though there was initially a touch of projection and fantasizing about Arya being free while she remains captured. As of Feast, she believes she is the last Stark left alive and she has no one but Littlefinger to help her. So while she is suppressing her grief, it’s done with good reason, and it’s not being replaced with any false narratives to cope. 

We also cannot ignore that her relationship to Sandor Clegane has instilled in her an appreciation for the un-sugarcoated truth now that she has experienced betrayal and injustice first hand. In his own way, he’s encouraged her to listen to her own inner bullshit detector. The rose-tinted glasses have become a lot more clear compared to where she started. This is a newly learned skill though, and her self-confidence has been wrecked by internalized verbal abuse. She’s also been left on her own to figure out people’s intentions by herself, which runs parallel to her mounting desperation to get out of KL as Joffrey’s violence escalates. Developing a touch more of a jaded, skeptical side does sometimes clash with her enduring idealism and faith in other people (like with the Tyrells). This struggle is not a bad thing. The goal isn’t to become as cynical as the Hound, but to arrive at an earned optimism that has been tempered by wisdom and practical experience.

Her situation with Littlefinger is much more challenging than anything she faced in KL. He moves her where he wants her to go with complex web of lies, manipulation, grooming, isolation, coercion, dependence, guilt and shame. Her safety and desire to go home are tightly bound to being complicit in his lies and criminal activities. She feels indebted to him for getting her out of KL, even though his methods push her past her boundaries and force her to compromise her moral integrity. The thing is, there are things Sansa does know about LF, but she doesn’t seem to be ready to try and put the puzzle pieces together. She’s not daring to ask probing questions about Lysa’s reference to the “tears” and Jon Arryn or about the possible dangers of Maester Colemon prescribing sweetsleep for Robert’s convulsions. While the subject of Jeyne’s fate is still one she doesn’t want to revisit, somewhere in her mind she does know LF took custody of her friend. If it feels like this is somewhat of a regression back to her early AGOT self, there’s probably some truth to that; however, it’s perfectly okay for positive character arcs to be an imperfect progress. There can be relapses, regressions, setbacks, missteps, and misguided actions. All that growth isn’t lost. Everything she knows is just stored in the back of her mind, not forgotten completely. The general trend line moves her toward successfully confronting Littlefinger with the truth when GRRM is ready to pull the trigger. She’s definitely aware of Littlefinger lying to her more than she lets on and she knows his help is not out of the kindness of his heart, but motivated by what he wants her to be to him. But it’s not like she has the option to go anywhere else, does she? She’s a wanted criminal with a bounty on her head and has no other friend or ally in the Vale she can trust with the truth of her identity. Confronting LF without any means of neutralizing his power over her isn’t the smartest thing to do when he’s shown her he can literally get away with multiple murders. Again, it’s not just her personality that makes her hesitant to pull back the veil and face the horrible truth head on. The outside forces pressuring her perceptions and behavior cannot be discounted either.    

#valyrianscrolls #sansa stark meta #sansa stark #joffrey baratheon #sandor clegane #littlefinger #cersei #asoiaf characterization #the unkiss #character arcs #my meta #anonymous

[dany-is-my-queen]

Born To Be Yours | Part III

Sansa Stark x Fem! Baretheon! Reader (Daenerys Targaryen x Fem! Baratheon! Reader eventually)

Season 1-8

Word Count: 1,785

Pt. 1 Pt.2 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6 Pt.7 Pt.8 Pt.9

Another tournament was organized. Your father insisted on participate, luckily Lord Stark convinced him otherwise. Who would dare challenge the King of the Seven Kingdoms?

You were sitting exactly like the first occasion but Cersei was absent. She never really enjoy those kind of events, not that they were your favorite either. This time was The Mountain against one of your best friends, Ser Loras of House Tyrell. A very charming man.

“That is a very pretty dress, Myrcella.” You told your little sister. Your gaze directed to the northern girl.

“You like it?” She grinned contemplating at her golden and costly gown. Yours was very similar.

“I do, my lioness.”

Ser Loras approached the redhead giving her a red rose. She gladly accepted and you remember she told you how much she loved knights. He was way more kind than Joffrey. But you knew the Tyrell boy has an affair with uncle Renly, actually, you were the only person who knew their secret. Although here in the capital people’s secrets are never safe.

After The Hound defended the Knight of the Flowers, Ser Gregor left furious. All the applauses were towards him. Later that day you were on your chambers, sparring on your own.

“Y/N, how many times have I told you I don’t like you to be playing with a sword.” The blonde woman nagged.

“Not enough.” You turned to her.

“It’s dangerous. I don’t want you to get hurt.” You took a deep breath.

“Father says it’s for my own good.”

“You have a lot of him in you.”

“Not the eyes. Mine are just like yours.” You scoffed.

“You have Robert’s stubbornness.” She pointed.

“That bothers you? Where is uncle Tyrion? Have you got a word from him?”

“He is a prisoner of Lady Stark.” How can she say it so casual?

“What?! Why??”

“Conspiracy. They assume he hired someone to murder their little son.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. He is not known for being a child killer. What will happen now?”

“Jaime is trying to get him back. We expect the Starks to return him safe and sound to the capital. Practice your needlework. That is more appropriate for a princess to do.” She declared and walked out. You rolled your eyes, resuming your moves.

“Father, you wanted to see me?” He raised his cup and order you to sit on the small table.

“I’m getting old. You, my daughter, are getting better on your fencing. I am proud to see what you are becoming, a hell of a woman! Not a girl anymore. Never let a man commands you. You were born a leader, not a follower. Always remember that.” He gulped, offering you some wine. You like the taste but not the feeling if you drink too much.

“I have your strength, courage and of course, your charisma.” You admitted.

“Indeed. What about you marry Edd’s son? Robb is his name if I recall correctly. I wanted to join our houses. Baratheon and Stark, finally together. Without a fucking Targaryen getting in the way. But Y/N, I want you to live a happy life. Not a loveless marriage like the one your mother and I have. When you are to be wed, choose your partner wisely and never let anyone take them away from you.” You knew when your father was being serious, sorrow written all over his face.

“I can’t start a war if that happens. Thank you, father. I will listen to you. Joffrey and Sansa will rule someday, I hope it’s in a very long time, though. I’m not able to fully understand what you lost when Lady Lyanna was stolen from you. I can’t imagine the pain and frustration you felt. I am sorry.” You looked at him with a sympathetic smile.

“Not more than I am. The only good thing about the outcome was you and your siblings. Even Joffrey. You are way better than him, in every aspect. Cersei always treated you less. But you are my princess.” The bearded man said with nothing but the truth.

“I don’t know what to do. What is expected of me.” You lower your head.

“Don’t worry, child. One of the seven heavens has a plan for you. You are young, beautiful and smart. You are the princess of Westeros. The world shall be as you desire. Don’t worry about that now.” You stood up and hugged him tightly. In that moment you felt safe from any danger, safe even from your mother.

“Lord Varys. What news?” You were walking at a slow pace outside the Throne Room. “You know I only want to help my father make the right choices.” Lord Bealish is not the only one that whispers in your ear, the Eunuch trusts you. Almost everyone does. You’ve never used the intel they tell you to do something wrong. You could never.

“Yes I know, my friend. Daenerys Targaryen.” He sighed. “She is pregnant with Khal Drogo’s child. She’s a threat along with Viserys. I’m certain it’s not a rumor. The King wants her dead, he insists.”

“Thank you for sharing this information with me, my lord.” He bowed his head, turning to the opposite direction.

“How are things in Highgarden?” You asked your old friend.

“Quiet. My grandmother and sister send their regards. They miss you.” The curled man said.

“I’ll go visit soon.”

“Perhaps you could bring your new friend, she’s quite a beauty.” When you opened your mouth to answer a knock from the door caught your attention

“My Princess. Lady Arya is nowhere to be found.”

“I want every single one of my guards searching out for her. When you locate her take her immediately to Lord Eddard. Please.” The young man nodded.

After a few hours, the little wolf appeared. “Oh, Arya! You are okay. Where have you been?”

“I got lost. Thanks for worrying. I’m fearful... for my father.”

“Why’s that?”

“I’ve heard they plan to kill him.” She almost whispered.

“Who?”

“I don’t know. The King will protect him, right?” She asked with preoccupation in her voice.

“Of course, Arya.” She hugged you. The last Hand, Jon Arryn, he died because the fever took him, or did someone plan it? Now the Lord of Winterfell was in danger? A thousand scenarios began to run in your head.

You just received the jewel you asked to be made to the finest hand-crafter in King’s Landing, a gorgeous silver ring with House Stark sigil. The wolf in the middle was discreet yet visible. A perfect gift for a perfect lady. You were excited to deliver it so you head to find her. Someone got earlier. You didn’t speak right away.

“Would you forgive me, for my rudeness?” At least he was apologizing.

“There is nothing to forgive.” She was stuttering.

“One day we’ll be married. I’ll never disrespect you again. I’ll never be cruel to you again. Do you understand me?” You are my lady now. From this day until my last day.” Your heart ached at the thought of it. But it’s something you already knew. Seeing them together was different.

“My Princess.” You were about to turn around when Septa Mordane greeted you.

“I... I didn’t mean to interrupt. I didn’t know you were with Lady Sansa.” Joffrey eyed you with his usual sulky expression.

“Leave us alone, sister.” He hissed.

“My lady.” You just bowed your head completely embarrassed.

You called for the tall girl to be escorted to your chambers. “I intended to give you this yesterday. I’m sorry for running into you when you were occupied.”

“It’s alright. It’s beautiful!” She had a wide smile as you put the ring on her index finger.

“I see Joffrey gave you a necklace.” You noticed the golden piece. She took it and nodded.

“Yes. It’s like the one you wear.”

“My mother and Myrcella have one identical. It suits you.”

“That’s what he said. I will be his queen someday.” She excited exclaimed.

“Yes, you will.” Your heart was aching again.

“The ring is lovely. Thank you, princess.” The Northerner admired it happily.

“Now you have something to remember the North. I had it made especially for you. You are very welcome.” You smiled warmly at her.

“Y/N, you’ll be joining the hunt.” Your father stated.

“With pleasure.” You’ve always loved to go hunting, it was not a boring activity for you at all. You gather your weapons. Your skills were good, though every time you go to the wild you learn something new.

You were deep in the woods, a bow in your hand. Your father was carrying a spear. Ser Barristan and uncle Renly joined too.

“Father, don’t kill the Targaryen girl. I understand why you need to do it. Don’t see it as an act of honor but of mercy. She’s innocent. They are far away from King’s Landing. You are not a butcher. Don’t send anyone to hunt her down. More so if she’s carrying a baby inside her.”

“You and Ned so honorable. Maybe you are right. Little girls don’t frighten me.” You were relieved when you heard him say that. There is hope for them. “You weren’t a man till you fucked one girl of each of the Seven Kingdoms and the Riverlands. We used to call it “making the eight.” He giggled.

“Those were some lucky girls.” The youngest Baratheon brother said without a bit of excitement.

“Y/N! I suppose it counts for the boys too.” You smirked and nudged your uncle. “Those were the days.” The smile fell from his lips. Now he was angry.

“What days exactly? The ones were half of Westeros fight the other half and millions died. Or before that, when the Mad King slaughtered women and babies cause the voices in his head told him they deserved it. Or way before that, when dragons burnt whole cities to the ground.” He spat.

“Easy, boy. You might be my brother but you’re speaking to the king.” The black-haired man warned.

“More wine, your grace?” Lancel nervously offered.

“Father, you should slow down with the booze, it can make you feel dizzy and to hunt you need to stay focus.” You declared.

“Oh my dear daughter, I’d done this a million times. Wine is my preferred ally.” He said.

It all happened so fast, Robert missed his thrust and was seriously injured by a boar, he was very drunk to be concentrated. When you, Ser Barristan and Renly tried to help it was too late. You arrived from the Kingswood with him almost unconscious. All the way back you were quivering. Fearing for your father’s life.

#sansa stark x reader #sansa x reader #sansa x fem baratheon reader #baratheon reader #house baratheon #game of thrones fic #got

[razieltwelve]

Meeting (Final Rose x GOT)

Ned Stark looked his friend up and down. Robert was the very picture of a mighty king, his  presence filling the courtyard. There was no trace of weariness or weakness about him. His blue eyes were bright, and his powerful frame still rippled with muscle. For a long moment, neither of them said a word, but Robert’s lips twitched ever so slightly.

Robert smirked. “You’ve gotten old, Ned.”

Ned smirked back. “And you’ve gotten fat.”

A shocked silence swept over the courtyard, and then Robert gave that deep, booming laugh of his and lifted Ned clear off his feet in a hug so strong that the Lord of the North feared that his ribs might break.

“Gods, it’s good to see you again.” Robert chuckled and squeezed just enough to make Ned’s ribs creak before setting him back on his feet. “Where have you been all these years?”

Ned made a show of rubbing his ribs. He’d almost forgotten just how strong Robert was. “Keeping the North for you, Your Grace.”

“Hah! And keeping it well if all I’ve heard is true.” Robert threw one arm over Ned’s shoulders and leaned over to whisper in his ear. “We’ve much to talk about, you and I. Your last letter was... interesting.” Then he raised his voice and gestured grandly at the crowd. “A man - and a king - is only as good as his friends. A true and loyal friend is worth more than his weight in gold. I’d not have this crown on my head were it not for the loyalty and friendship of Lord Stark here and all of the North.” There were cries of approval from the crowd, and Robert beamed. “Too few kings have paid heed to the North, but you need never fear that from me and mine. As my wife’s House is so fond of saying: a Lannister always pays his debts... and so does a Baratheon. While my line sits on the throne, the North will always have a friend in the South.”

Ned grinned. It was nice to see that the years had not changed his friend for the worst. He had worried, for a time, that Robert might never overcome his grief at the loss of Lyanna. Yet from the letters they had exchanged, he knew that the birth of Robert’s children had restored his sense of purpose and allowed him to move on. “You have my thanks, Robert. You and yours will always be welcome in the North.”

“And speaking of you and yours, Ned.” Robert nodded at Ned’s children who were standing dutifully nearby. “Introduce me.”

Ned finally managed to pull out of Robert’s grasp. “I should start with my wife first. You remember Catelyn, I’m sure.”

Robert grinned. “As beautiful as I remember.” He nudged Ned and glanced over his shoulder at Cersei. “We’re lucky men, Ned. Both of us lords and with pretty ladies to boot.”

Ned and the queen both shook their heads in fond exasperation. Catelyn, of course, adopted a more polite approach. “You honour me with your words, Your Grace.”

“None of that,” Robert said. “And you too, Ned. I’ve too many people already toadying up to me and calling me Your Grace. I don’t need it from either of you. I’ve no better or more loyal a friend than you. Call me Robert, both of you.” He embraced Catelyn. “Thank you for keeping an eye on Ned here. He likes to think he’s the sensible one out of us, but I remember growing up beside him at the Aerie...”

“And moving on,” Ned said quickly. Both he and Robert had ample stories of childhood misdeeds, but his friend had seized the initiative as he was wont to do. “My eldest, Robb.”

“Ah, my namesake.” Robert studied Robb. “You’ve the look of your mother, lad, but there’s steel in those eyes of yours.” He glanced at Ned. “Blooded, is he?”

“Aye,” Ned admitted. “Helped saved his younger brother from Wildings.”

“Good lad.” Robert squeezed Robb’s shoulder. “A man should protect his family.” He shifted his attention to Ned. “I’ve heard mutterings of the Wildlings stirring. We can talk about it later, but if you need help, you’ll get it.” He glanced past Robb to Sansa. “And who is this lovely young lady?”

“Sansa, Your Grace.” Sansa gave the king a perfect curtsy, and Robert beamed.

“A perfect lady, just like her mother.” Robert looked to the two younger boys beside her. “And unless my memory fails me, then, from your letters, Ned, these must be Bran and Rickon.”

“Aye.” Ned said. “Bran’s got a clever head on his shoulders and Rickon...” He chuckled. “And Rickon is still young.”

“You’re really big,” Rickon said, staring at Robert.

Robert threw his head back and laughed. “That I am, lad. I doubt you’ll ever be my size, but there’s plenty of growing in you, I think.” He paused. “Ned... didn’t you have two more, or am I remembering your letters wrong?”

“Uh...” Ned breathed a sigh of relief as Lyara finally returned, all but dragging Arya. His youngest daughter had, of course, decided that the best time to take a tumble in a muddy puddle was right before meeting the king.

Robert stared at the pair for a long, long moment. Ned could understand his shock. Lyara resembled his sister in many ways although, objectively speaking, Ned could admit that she was fairer, having inherited much of Catelyn’s classical beauty to go with the wild charm his sister had possessed. Then he shook himself, and his shoulders began to heave as he took in the sight of Arya covered in mud.

“Hahahaha...” Robert had to reach up to wipe tears from his eyes. “Oh, Ned, this reminds me of... before.”

Ned mentally breathed a sigh of relief. Another king might have been insulted, but Robert wasn’t like other kings. “Aye. Arya has a knack for trouble.” He put a mock scowl on his face, and he had to fight to hide his smile as Arya quailed. Robert noticed what he was doing and only laughed harder. “Greet the king, Arya.”

“I... uh... welcome to Winterfell, Your Grace.” Arya did her best to sketch a curtsy and failed miserably. Catelyn covered her face with one hand. 

“So...” Robert finally got his mirth under control. “Tell me, girl, what do you favour, the sword, the axe, or the spear?”

Arya stared at him in shock, as if she couldn’t quite believe what she’d heard. And then she smiled, the brilliant, wonderfully warm smile that Ned could honestly say would be breaking hearts in several years. “The sword, Your Grace! There is no better weapon than a sword!”

“Oh? I favour the war hammer myself.” Robert smiled indulgently. “Perhaps you could show me your skills while I’m here, or perhaps test them against one of my sons.”

“Really?” Arya’s eyes shone. “I’d love to!” She paused and then quickly added. “Your Grace.”

Robert hesitated for a moment and then reached out to ruffle her hair. “She reminds me of Lyanna, Ned.” There was a trace of grief in the words, but Ned was relieved to hear it accompanied by fondness too. Robert would likely always mourn Lyanna, but he had also moved on. Robert’s gaze shifted to Lyara. “And you must be Lyara.”

“Aye, Your Grace.” Lyara met his gaze, and Ned was only mildly surprised to see that there was none of the awe in it that people usually had when they met Robert. Instead, there was only measured calm. It was as though she’d taken Robert’s measure and had been satisfied by what she saw. “It is an honour to meet the man my father calls his dearest friend.”

Robert’s lips twitched. “A wolf indeed, Ned.” Ned had mentioned in more than one of his letters that he’d always thought the wolf’s blood was thickest in Lyara. “They call you the Rose of the North. Mind explaining the title?”

Lyara’s eyes gleamed. “A rose is known for it’s beauty... and its thorns, Your Grace.”

“She’s the finest swordsman in the North!” Arya cried before Catelyn frantically moved to shush her.

“Is that so?” Robert rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “My eldest is supposed to be a prodigy for his age, as skilled a warrior as any youth. Perhaps you’d care to test his mettle.”

“Perhaps.” 

Robert tossed Ned an amused glance. They were likely both thinking the same thing. A match between their House would be perfect. “Well, now that I’ve met your lot, allow me to introduce my lot.”

X     X     X

Edward, who had once been Diana, bit back a chuckle as another one of the Lannister guards did his best to impress Lyara Stark only to end up disarmed and face down in the mud. 

“Gods,” Tyrion muttered. “That’s the fifth one already. I know Elric. He’s no Arthur Dayne, but he’s no slouch either. All that talk of her being the finest sword in the North might actually be true.”

“Well, the North has never been much given to exaggeration.” And if his suspicions were true, there was a reason none of the young men eager to impress her had gotten anywhere. It was a pity that he hadn’t managed to corner her for a private conversation, but the royal family had been pulled into a whirlwind of activity after arriving at Winterfell. “If they say she’s damn good, then she’s damn good.”

“Are you going to try your luck, nephew?” Tyrion asked. “Although you must surely be aware of what your father is thinking.”

Edward was indeed aware. If his suspicions were correct - and the more he watched Lyara fight, the more certain he grew - then this could get extremely awkward. “Even so, I’d like to test my blade against hers.”

“And it seems you may just have your chance.” Tyrion chuckled. “Best of luck.”

As Edward accepted the wooden practice sword and stepped into the arena, a pair of Lannister guards dragged the unfortunate Elric over to a nearby bench to recover. 

“Don’t take her lightly,” Ser Barristan murmured as Edward passed him. “She’s good, Your Highness, amongst the best I’ve ever seen.”

“It’s a good thing, then, that I’m also amongst the best you’ve ever seen.” Edward’s lips curled up into a smile. “Wish me luck.”

Ser Barristan grinned. “Good luck.”

“Your Highness.” Lyara greeted him with a nod. Edward’s father had always insisted on no special treatment for him in the training yard. He was to be a proper warrior, not a coddled prince. 

“My lady.” Edward took up his stance, vaguely aware that they had already begun to draw an audience. He was widely considered one of the finest swordsmen in the realm despite his tender age, and already the only ones who could challenge him with a blade were his uncle and Ser Barristan. “Shall we?”

“Any rules?” Lyara asked.

“Well, obviously, we won’t be fighting to the death,” Edward said as he began to circle, drawing laughter from the crowd. His sword whipped out, lightning fast, only to be parried just as quickly before a riposte forced him to lean to the side. He found his smile widening. He knew that riposte. It was one of the very first moves he’d learned from his mother in his previous life. “And fighting until first blood might be problematic since we’re using wooden weapons. I daresay, we’d have to club each other halfway into the grave.”

“That would be unfortunate, yes.” Lyara skipped forward, as swift and easy on her feet as a bird in flight. Her blade went high and then low before a feint to his mid-section was followed by a thrust to his exposed shoulder. Edward blocked the first two blows and then dodged the third. He was definitely grinning like an idiot now. He knew that sequence. It was a training sequence the Yun had often used to teach the importance of seeing through feints. From the faint smile on Lyara’s face, he could tell she’d noticed the ease with which he’d dealt with her attacks - as though he’d known what they would be.

Well, it was time to give her something to think about. “A point match then,” he said. “With blows pulled before contact. I think we both have the control for that.”

“Aye.”

“Then... have at thee.” Abandoning his lackadaisical stance, Edward closed the distance between them. His sword rose and fell with all the force of a sledgehammer, swift, sharp, punishing blows that were nevertheless perfectly controlled and without overextension. It was a training sequence from a Yun sword form melded with the techniques of his previous’s life’s mother. If Lyara was who he thought she was, she would recognise it in a heartbeat.

The light of recognition in her eyes made Edward’s heart soar. He’d feared he might be alone in this new world with none of his friends or family from his previous life. Yet the ease with which she parried the blows, the way she evaded the strikes she knew would be coming, it was practically confirmation. Still, he couldn’t resist pushing harder.

Diana had spent her entire life testing herself against Averia. Edward wanted to see how good Lyara really was.

X     X     X

“Gods,” Robert muttered as he watched Edward and Lyara fight their way around the training area. “The lad’s been holding back on us.”

Beside him, Ser Barristan was watching everything with a critical eye. Despite his calm demeanour, Robert could tell that the old knight was excited. Ever since the death of Arthur Dayne, Barristan had been acknowledged as the greatest swordsman in Westeros. Even Jaime could admit that while he was close to the older man’s equal, Barristan still held an edge. Yet the way Edward was fighting now, Robert could sense the same thing Barristan could.

He might finally have met his match, or possibly even his superior.

And the fact that Lyara was matching him blow for blow...

“She’s a wonder, Ned,” Robert said. “You’re a good swordsman, yourself, but this...”

Ned nodded sombrely. “I don’t know where she gets it, Robert. There’s no swordsman in the North her equal. It’s as if the gods themselves gave her a gift.” 

“Aye.” Robert found himself smirking. “But look at the pair of them. They’re doing their best to beat each other’s heads in, but they’re having the time of their lives.”

It was true. Despite the intensity of their spar, both Edward and Lyara were smiling although the girl’s expression was more reserved. They were talking as they fought although the clatter of their wooden swords made it impossible for Robert to tell what they were saying. Still, he couldn’t help but smile. He’d hoped that Edward and Lyara might get along, but this? This was beyond his wildest expectations.

“They’re bloody flirting,” Robert said, chuckling. 

Ned stared for a long moment before shaking his head. “By the gods, Robert, I think you might be right.”

Suddenly, Edward and Lyara broke apart. They were both sweating, but neither of them looked as though they wanted to stop. 

“Spear,” Edward barked curtly. “Someone get us a pair of spears.”

A blunted spear was soon tossed to the prince, and Robert felt pride swell in his chest as his boy handled the weapon like he was born to it. Likewise, a spear was soon tossed to Lyara as well, and she too handled the weapon with aplomb.

“Shall we continue?” Lyara asked.

Edward’s grin was pure Baratheon. “With pleasure.”

X     X     X

“Did you see it?” Arya cried, tugging on Jon’s arm excitedly. “Did you see it?”

“Aye,” Jon replied, chuckling. “And I’m glad I did.” He’d always known that his sister held back when they sparred, but he’d never realised just how much until she and the prince had fought. Gods, it was like watching something out of a story or a legend. “It was a draw, though, since neither of them managed to land a decent hit.”

“Well, I think she won,” Arya proclaimed. “Maybe they’ll have a rematch.”

Jon thought of the light he’d seen in both their eyes when they’d been fighting. Oh, they’d have a rematch. It was like they’d been waiting their whole lives to meet each other and were overjoyed to finally meet. “We’ll see.” He ruffled Arya’s hair. “Did you see my match?”

Arya nodded. “You fought Ser Barristan!”

“I lost.” Jon shook his head in wonder. The knight was every bit the legend people said he was.

“But he complimented you. He said you fought well and everything,” Arya replied. “And I don’t think he would have lied. He didn’t seem like the type of person to lie.”

“No, no, he didn’t.” The words were still warm in Jon’s heart. To be praised by a man like Ser Barristan! And his father had squeezed his shoulder and complimented him on his fine showing as he’d left the sparring arena. 

“And Robb didn’t do too badly either,” Arya said. “Not that he won.”

“He was fighting Ser Jaime,” Jon said. “Robb’s good, but Ser Jaime might be the second-best swordsman in the realm behind Ser Barristan.” Or behind his sister and Prince Edwards, Jon thought. “Still, he did well. Ser Jaime seemed to think so, anyway.”

“Well, I can’t wait to fight the king.” Arya folded her arms across her chest. “You, Robb, and Lyara have all gotten to show off. I’d like a chane to show what I can do.”

“Try not to kill him,” Jon japed. “He’s father’s friend and a good ruler, by all accounts.”

“I’ll be merciful,” Arya said before lowering her voice. “I do hope he takes it easy on me.”

The king had sparred a few bouts himself. Jon had been shocked not just by the raw strength the king possessed, but his speed. No man that large and that strong should be able to move so swiftly. It was clear, too, that he was pulling his blows. Had he struck with anything even close to his full strength, then even the padded, wooden war hammer he’d wielded would have crushed his opponents in a single blow. 

Jon had heard tales of how Robert had struck down Prince Rhaegar during the Battle of the Trident. Seeing the man in action, it was easy to imagine the Targaryen going down beneath a storm of blows from the Baratheon’s mighty hammer.

“Of course, he will, Arya. You’ve seen him around the others. He’s not cruel. Why, he even agreed to spar Bran, and he handled him as kindly as father does.”

Bran, of course, had been starstruck at the thought of sparring the king, and Robert had humoured him, offering words of advice and encouraging the lad to do his best before ending the bout with a simple disarm.

“Look.” Arya huffed and pointed. “They’re talking again.”

Jon followed her gaze and bit back a chuckle. Arya was so used to having their sister’s attention that he wasn’t surprised she was a bit put out at the amount of talking Lyara and the prince had done. It was like they were old friends catching up after a long time apart or something. Yet from the expression on his sister’s face and the warmth in her gaze, it was clear the pair were truly getting along.

Jon smiled. He’d always worried that his fierce, wise sister might struggle to find a man who could appreciate her. Yet everything he’d heard about the prince suggested that he might be precisely such a man. More than anything, he wanted her to be happy. Yet, he would keep a close eye, as would Robb. If the prince were to do anything untoward, well, they’d have to step in. But if he proved to be an honourable man who would make their sister happy? Well, they’d welcome him... after a bit of threatening, of course.

X     X     X

Author’s Notes

You asked for more, so here it is.

Uh oh. People are really getting the wrong impression. Just wait until Edward and Lyara realise what they’ve done. It was also nice writing this version of Robert who is really the king he could have been rather than the king he ended up being. More intrigue to follow. Perhaps a peek into the Sealord’s court or what’s going on Beyond the Wall.

If you’re interested in my thoughts on writing and other topics, you can find those here.

I also write original fiction, which you can find on Amazon here or on Audible here.

#final rose #game of thrones #fanfiction #diana yun farron #averia yun farron #robert baratheon #ned stark #jon snow #arya stark #barristan selmy

[weggocs]

Game of Thrones

Name: Corynne Stark

Nickname: Cor by her family, though she much prefers her full name

Age: 20

Gender: Female

Sexual orientation: She’s bisexual with a preference for women. It’s a well-kept secret.

Status: Single, and she intends to hold onto her freedom for as long as she possibly can

Physical Appearance: Corynne has reddish brown hair that falls just below her shoulders.She keeps it down in the Northern style out of spite for the south and King’s Landing. Her face is stern by default and she often gets headaches from furrowing her brow for so long. She’s 5’8”, taller than her younger sisters for the time being, and her posture adds as much as it can. She’s not quite as slim as Sansa but still decently lithe, with subtle muscles beneath her dress. She prefers the comfort of pants and loose shirts but, as a lady of the court, must wear dresses. She favors the Northern style in dress as well, and leans towards warmer colors like reds and oranges. Her eyes are blue like her mother’s. Her emotions are easy to read as her expression tends to reflect them and, though she’s been schooling herself on keeping them hidden, she’s still not nearly as good as the majority of King’s Landing.

Personality: Corynne inherited all of her mother’s ferocity without any of her father’s patience. She’s quick-witted and courageous, resilient, and fiercely protective of her siblings, especially the younger four. Her confrontational nature doesn’t mix well with the delicacy of the capitol and played a large hand in her being passed over as Joffrey’s promised in favor of Sansa. Her contempt for that boy and the rest of his family is common knowledge. Very little is holding her back from tearing Joffrey apart herself; she only restrains herself because the relationship between her obedience and Sansa’s safety is deep and unfortunately known to her. As a discount prisoner, much of her energy is being put towards protecting her sister and learning the ways of the capitol: subversion, deception, and patience.

House: Stark

Family/Relations: Ned and Catelyn Stark (mother and father); Robb, Sansa, Arya, Bran, Rickon (younger siblings); Jon Snow (bastard, half-brother); Ros (prostitute in kings landing, occasional lover)

History: With some liberty on Ned and Catelyn’s marriage history, Corynne was born into the family a few years before Ned was called off to Robert’s rebellion. She was raised in Winterfell under the wolf banner and is a northerner to her core. She was familiar with the village beyond, particularly with Ros, who she often visited. Her “experimentation” with women is a well-kept secret that not even her family knows but, were it to slip out, it has the potential to ruin her.

She’s never been fond of King’s Landing and would have preferred to stay in Winterfell, but Ned saw fit to bring her. She’s not the best candidate for a marriage but she’s too old to be single by Game of Thrones standards and there’s a wider variety of potential suitors in Westeros’s capitol. She was with Sansa when the King’s Guard massacred the Starks’ servants and since the event has been at her sister’s side. Her voice holds no sway over the court’s and she knows that if she were to appeal to Joffrey for her father’s life she would only end up threatening him, but she attends from the side and comforts Sansa as best she can.

Strengths: Corynne’s wit and courage are the only things that kept her afloat when she first came to the capitol. Now she depends on them. She’s decently intelligent but more than that she’s fierce and her bond with her family drives her. She’s resilient, physically and mentally, and will take whatever pain she has to to keep Sansa safe.

Weaknesses: To begin with, she’s far, far away from home. She feels overwhelmed and is surrounded by enemies and, though she does her best to seem strong for Sansa, she’s never experienced something like this before. Her emotions are hard to conceal and she gives away more than she wishes in most conversations, not to mention the anger that is constantly boiling over. Her strategic skills need honing and she favors bluntness over patience which often leads to danger or loss.

Weapons: She carries a knife with her at all times. Her training with it isn’t quite as extensive as she wishes but with so little to do with her time she practices often. She received it weeks before her departure to King’s Landing and it provides minimal but still present relief.

Extra: Her direwolf, Gale, was slaughtered along with the Stark servants. She was Corynne’s defense and without her she feels even more vulnerable.

Potential Love Interests 😏: Petyr Baelish, Sandor Clegane, Ramsay Bolton

#game of thrones oc #got oc #game of thrones #got

[alinaastarkov]

even if sansa was deposed, arya wouldn't become queen. arya's arc is not about queenship, monarchy or politics, and it's kinda sad a "fan" of hers wouldn't see this. the funny thing is that arya has a complete story and and rich arc of her own, she doesn't need to live on sansa's shadow like you wish her to live.

Well, if we’re talking show!verse, who else is there to rule if Sansa was deposed? Seeing as Queen Sansa is show only, I must assume that’s what you’re talking about, so just practically, Arya is the only option. Bran is a king himself, so unless he reabsorbs the North into the seven kingdoms, he’s out. Jon is exiled, a man of the Night’s Watch, and still a bastard to most people. Even if he wasn’t, he would be a Targaryen, so no claim either. My poor baby boi Rickon is f**king dead so he too is out. Arya is then the only Stark left living, with strong ties to the North, a bloody hero in everyone’s eyes with plenty of regard for her people. Purely practically speaking, much like Sansa, Arya would be the only option left. 

Now, speaking of Arya’s arc, she has so many clues and traits that point to her being a queen. As I said, she is always shown to be caring for her people and the smallfolk, she apparently spent years listening to her father’s men talk about all aspects of life running, not just a castle, but an entire region, from the horses to the soldiers and everything in between. She is skilled at sums, running a household, she understands how the world works, even if she hasn’t spent so much time around politics (by which I assume you mean southron politics like Sansa) she gets how things go, she’s creative and smart, managing to take the third option when none is presented. She is learning how to listen, how to lie, how to charm, everything that makes a good leader, queen and politician. Anything she doesn’t already have, she is currently learning. Also, southron politics don’t mean shit cause she is a northerner and would be ruling the north. I don’t remember Sansa ever listening in on any northerners discussing politics or running a castle, do you? You know what, don’t answer that, I’m sure you’ll pull something out of your arse.

I am a real fan, no need for quotation marks. It’s “fans” who insist she has none of these traits that need the air quotes, thank you very much. I don’t know what’s sadder, people still being pressed about a gifset that *surprise* wasn’t meant for you, or being so pressed that you feel the need to send so many anons about it.

Arya does have a complete story and rich arc of her own, one that includes a possible future as some kind of queen due to all of the things I mentioned above, and more. And this is funny coming from the section of the fandom that insists Arya is going to die, live on in Nymeria, and Sansa will then keep her as a pet?? I try to be civil, but that is one of the most disgusting things I have ever heard, and until shit like that stops, I will not hear anything from ya’ll about “living in Sansa’s shadow”. It’s Sansa who has zero queen foreshadowing, and until you are willing to actually accept all the Starks for what they are, rather than ways to prop up your fave, I will not be accepting your description as “Stark fans”. You don’t like the Starks, you like one Stark. Own up to that, or grow up and gain some critical thinking skills. This isn’t pre-school, and I’m not your fucking teacher. You have brains I assume. is it wrong to assume that? probably so fucking use them.

I need a fucking nap.

#arya stark #asoiaf #the night wolf #anti sansa stans #just accept your fave for what she is cause i need a fucking break from you people these asks are driving me nuts #neve has mail

[captainfangirlll]

BOOK JON SNOW VS SHOW JON SNOW

Books: Jon is 15 years old in books, he still has the mind of a kid, he plays with Robb and his other siblings , the best family relationship he have are Robb and Arya, Bran aswell meanwhile Rickon and Sansa are distant (in Rickon case is because he is practically a baby)

Show: Jon is a teenager in the show, we can see his relationship with Robb in a matured way, we also acknowledge he has a good relationship with Bran and the best with Arya.

Books: Thorne starts to dislike Jon in books when he starts to train his companions, Thorne said to Jon that it would be easier to him teach some tricks to Ghost than Jon teach his friends, Jon answer to him that he would like to see Ghost doing some tricks and everyone laugh at him, since that moment Thorne said to Jon he made a mistake.

Show: Thorne just dislike Jon since the beginning there is no a specific reason why he treated him bad.

Books: Qhorin orders Jon to kill Ygritte, but Jon secretly lets her go instead. Before she leaves, Ygritte informs Jon that Mance Rayder would accept him, if he wanted to join the free folk.

Show: Ygritte scapes from Jon in show so he is captured by the free folk.

Books: Jon is a warg in books like Bran, he sees through the eyes of Ghost, and witnesses thousands of wildlings, and giants and mammoths, before being attacked by an eagle in beyond the wall journet with Qhorin, Jon informs the group, who recognize him for a warg.

Show: We don’t see Jon warg skills in show.

Book: Jon kills Qhorin with the help of Ghost, to win the trust of thr wildings, so they agree to bring him to Mance Rayder.

Show: Jon Kills Qhorin by his own, Ghost is not with them.

Books: Ygritte is kind of adolescent in books meanwhile Jon is a pre teen that’s why he is so scared and nervous about her sexual implications.

Show: Jon and Ygritte have the same age but Jon is still nervous arround her.

Books: Edric Dayne, Lord of Starfall and a member of the brotherhood without banners, tells Arya that he is Jon's milk brother, as they shared the same wet nurse, Wylla.

Show: We don’t see Edric in show so Arya never knew this.

Book: Jon didn’t fight with his sword in castle black battle with the wildings he spent all the battle in the wall with the arches helping Donal Noye in the defense of Castle Black against Styr's raider, he finds Ygritte who dies in a grief-stricken Jon's arms.

Show: Jon spends a time in the wall with the archers but then he down for the battle and fight sword to sword with wilds, also he finds Ygritte but Olly kills her before anything happens in front of him.

Book: Mance Rayder figths in casttle black battle this crows vs wildings battle is for days, Donal has Jon command from atop the Wall while the blacksmith descends to defend the gate. After Donal is killed by Mag Mar Tun Doh Weg, Jon reluctantly takes command of the Wall's defenses, after prompting from Master Aemon. Jon successfully holds the Wall against overwhelming odds for several days.

Show: The batlle of casttle black is in one night.

Books: Fearing that Melisandre might burn Maester Aemon and the infant of the captured Mance Rayder for their royal blood, Jon secretly swaps Mance's son with Gilly's son. Jon sends Samwell Tarly to the Citadel to train as Castle Black's next maester, sending Aemon, Gilly, Mance's child, and Dareon with Sam.

Show: We don’t see any intention on Melissandre side to burn Maester Aemon, also Mance doesn’t have a son in show and he is the one burned by Melissandre by Jon kill him before.

Books: In King's Landing, Queen Regent Cersei Lannister is outraged to learn of Jon's appointment as Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, as he has given Stannis Baratheon shelter. The small council agrees that Jon must be removed from command. Grand Maester Pycelle suggests informing the Watch that the crown will send no more men to the Wall until Jon is removed. Cersei is delighted with Qyburn's suggestion to send a hundred recruits with secret orders to remove Jon. She plots to send Ser Osney Kettleblack to carry out the plan, but both Osney and Cersei are imprisoned by the Faith of the Seven before these plans can come to fruition.

Show: Jon ascension as Lord Commander didn’t have important in Kings Landing.

Book: Jon never went to hardhome to rescued wildings the ones who goes are his nigths watch companions and some wildings so he actually haven’t kill a white walker yet.

Show: Jon goes to hardhome to rescued the wildings and he fights with a White Walker and killed him also meets the night King who until now doesn’t exist in books.

Show: Jon and The night king exchange a lot of glances.

Book: We haven’t see the Night King in books, there also no evidence about a Knight King just about a leader figured with a white woman by his side.

Books: Jon finds out Ramsay Bolton will marry Arya Stark, Melisandre informs Jon she has had a vision of a girl on a dying horse making for Castle Black. Melisandre reveals that she had changed the appearances of Mance and Rattleshirt with a glamor, so that Stannis actually executed Rattleshirt and that Mance has been serving Jon. Mance is sent to secretly rescue Arya.

“ Bring her home, Mance. I saved your son from Melisandre, and now I am about to save four thousand of your free folk. You owe me this one little girl” — Jon Snow.

- - -

His heart seemed to stop for a moment. No, that is not possible. She died in King’s Landing, with Father.

“Lord Snow?” Clydas peered at him closely with his dim pink eyes. “Are you … unwell? You seem …” “He’s to marry Arya Stark. My little sister.” Jon could almost see her in that moment, long-faced and gawky, all knobby knees and sharp elbows, with her dirty face and tangled hair. They would wash the one and comb the other, he did not doubt, but he could not imagine Arya in a wedding gown, nor Ramsay Bolton’s bed. No matter how afraid she is, she will not show it. If he tries to lay a hand on her, she’ll fight him. “Your sister,” Iron Emmett said, “how old is …” By now she’d be eleven, Jon thought.

(...)

While Jon despairs, Melisandre appears and offers a way to save Arya. She points out that Jon has power, and shouldn't be afraid to wield it.

“Do not despair, Lord Snow. Despair is a weapon of the enemy, whose name may not be spoken. Your sister is not lost to you.” I have no sister.” The words were knives. What do you know of my heart, priestess? What do you know of my sister? Melisandre seemed amused. “What is her name, this little sister that you do not have?” “Arya.” His voice was hoarse. “My half-sister, truly …” “Your Wall is a queer place, but there is power here, if you will use it. Power in you, and in this beast. You resist it, and that is your mistake. Embrace it. Use it.” ...“Take my hand,” she said again, “and let me save your sister.”

Show: Mance is dead in the show burned by Melissandre, and the one married Ramsay is Sansa Stark, Jon finds out about this but he doesn’t do anything to help her.

Books: After Stannis's wife, Queen Selyse Baratheon, arrives at Castle Black from Eastwatch, Jon negotiates with Tycho Nestoris, an envoy of the Iron Bank of Braavos. Jon agrees to a loan so the Watch can purchase food and supplies and hire ships.

Show: We never see this political Jon skills what a shame he he never negotiated with the Iron bank in the show, because stannis borrowed his ships to him.

Books: When Jon finds out about Hardhome he intends to rescue them, but he is interrupted by a taunting letter from Ramsay which claims that Stannis has been defeated and Mance captured. Jon relinquishes command of the ranging and announces his intention to ride south against House Bolton to save Arya and defends the Nights Watch. He does not order the Night's Watch to fight with him, but asks both wildlings and black brothers alike to join him of their own volition. Most wildlings in the Shieldhall agree to support him, but Jon's decision causes great discontent within the Watch's upper leadership.

Show: Jon go to Hardhome and doesn’t recieve any Ramsay letter.

Books: In books Jon is killed by some of the members of night watch in the confusion resulting from Wun Wun's killing of Ser Patrek of King's Mountain, he is attacked in the mutiny at Castle Black. While stabbing the Lord Commander, Bowen Marsh and Wick Wittlestick state "for the Watch" also because he is planning break his vows to rescued “Arya” from marry Ramsay.” with some castle black mans and the wildings.

Show: In tv show the members a of night watch killed Jon because he let’s the wildings pass the wall Thorne and Olly participate in his murder but in books Olly doesn’t exist and Thorne didn’t have part in this and he is still alive.

Books: Jon finals words and thoughts are dedicated to Ghost and Arya:

When Wick Whittlestick slashed at his throat, the word turned into a grunt. Jon twisted from the knife, just enough so it barely grazed his skin. He cut me. When he put his hand to the side of his neck, blood welled between his fingers. "Why?"

"For the Watch." Wick slashed at him again.

Jon manages to ward off Wick's second attack, but when he tries to draw Longclaw, "his fingers had grown stiff and clumsy. Somehow he could not seem to get the sword free of its scabbard." That's when the second knife hits.

Then Bowen Marsh stood there before him, tears running down his cheeks. "For the Watch." He punched Jon in the belly. When he pulled his hand away, the dagger stayed where he had buried it.

Jon fell to his knees. He found the dagger's hilt and wrenched it free. In the cold night air the wound was smoking. "Ghost," he whitspered. Pain washed over him. Stick them with the pointy end. When the third dagger took him between the shoulder blades, he gave a grunt and fell face-first into the snow. He never felt the fourth knife. Only the cold…

That's the last appearance of Jon Snow in "A Dance with Dragons, wich is also the last books realized so is the last time we know about him in books, and we all know what happens with him on show.

Other differences

• In books the quote “Love is the death of duty” by Maester Aemon is used when Jon decidesld break his vows from nights watch to save “Arya” (who is actually Jeyne Poole no Arya as I said in my Arya books vs show). Arya is the character Jon loves the most and he thinks on her in every moment:

And Arya … he missed her even more than Robb, skinny little thing that she was, all scraped knees and tangled hair and torn clothes, so fierce and willful. Arya never seemed to fit, no more than he had … yet she could always make Jon smile. He would give anything to be with her now, to muss up her hair once more and watch her make a face, to hear her finish a sentence with him. (A Game of Thrones, Jon III)

Jon felt as stiff as a man of sixty years. Dark dreams, he thought, and guilt.His thoughts kept returning to Arya. There is no way I can help her. I put all kin aside when I said my words. If one of my men told me his sister was in peril, I would tell him that was no concern of his. Once a man had said the words his blood was black. Black as a bastard’s heart. He’d had Mikken make a sword for Arya once, a bravo’s blade, made small to fit her hand. Needle. He wondered if she still had it. Stick them with the pointy end, he’d told her, but if she tried to stick the Bastard, it could mean her life.

Something about her made him think of Arya, though they looked nothing at all alike. — Jon when he meets Ygritte

They had always been close. Jon had their father’s face, as she did. They were the only ones. Robb and Sansa and Bran and even little Rickon all took after the Tullys, with easy smiles and fire in their hair. When Arya had been little, she had been afraid that meant that she was a bastard too. It had been Jon she had gone to in her fear, and Jon who had reassured her.

• Jon is more political in books than show, we seem him negotiating with the iron bank, confronting with Ramsay, taking decisions about Mance and Gilly babies and more, also Jon is not that perfect in books as in show, he have selfish thoughts sometimes but at the end he tries his best.

• His relationship with Ghost is deeper in books, he can warg him and is always by his side.

With all this changes between books and show we can assume that yes, Jon is gonna be resurrected but we don’t know if in the same way, but he will be darker after he comes back, he will abandoned the nights watch to save “Arya” and is gonna be king in the north but we will see it in a different way than the show.

He is gonna be a secret Targaryen too, and also ride a Dragon because in books we have the prophecy of the three heads of the dragon

“He has a song. He is the prince that was promised, and his is the song of ice and fire,” Rhaegar tells the nurse before looking directly at Daenerys and saying, “There must be one more. The dragon has three heads.”

So with that we can assume we will see Jon and Daenerys riding the dragons in books also one more Targaryen (maybe Aemon or Tyrion book reades knows what im talking about )

Also I think he is gonna do more important things to the long night, is very posible we see Jonerys in books too and Jon killing her at the end, but I think is gonna be played different with the Azor Ahai prophecy because I have the strong theory Jon is Azor Ahai:

“There will come a day after a long summer when the stars bleed and the cold breath of darkness falls heavy on the world. In this dread hour a warrior shall draw from the fire a burning sword. And that sword shall be Lightbringer, the Red Sword of Heroes, and he who clasps it shall be Azor Ahai come again, and the darkness shall flee before him.” — Books prophecy.

Azor Ahai killed Nissa Nissa who was his wife. In order to unleash the powers of the sword Lightbringer so that he could defeat the darkness of the Great Other, he had to sacrifice her by plunging it into her heart. I think we will see that with Jon i Daenerys in a very unexpected way, I mean not intentionally way.

“According to prophecy, our champion will be reborn to wake dragons from stone and reforge the great sword Lightbringer that defeated the darkness those thousands of years ago. If the old tales are true, a terrible weapon forged with a loving wife's heart. Part of me thinks man was well rid of it, but great power requires great sacrifice. That much at least the Lord of Light is clear on.” — THOROS OF MYR.

In conclusion I really have big hopes for Jon finale arc in books, since there is no night king in books I expect Jon contributes to the battle against the others in a really original way, also his real identity as a Targeryen be more important in the history even i he has the same ending in books if he is journey is good it will don’t matter. Also he go to the wall by his choice not because he is exiled.

#game of thrones #jon snow #asoiaf #kit harington #got #arya stark #daenerys targeryen #sansa stark #jonerys #gendrya #ramsay bolton #bran stark #robb stark #ygritte #ygritte x jon #jonrya #ned stark #lyanna stark #cersei lannister #melissandre

[7deadlycinderellas]

I have no use for rings of gold, I care not for your poetry, ch2

AO3 link

Gendry, it turns out, does not care for hunting. Riding in general is still a new skill for him, though he does feel like he’s getting better at it. Arya seems determined to show him every single thing in the north, and frankly, outside of his lessons, Gendry welcomes the reprieve.

Gendry knows his letters and numbers, more than well enough to keep track of his own accounts. The types of reading and writing that are expected of him as a future Lord, are quite different. Maester Luwin is beyond patient (reminding Gendry that he had managed to teach both Arya and Rickon to read and write with some degree of skill), but the process makes Gendry’s hand ache and eyes cross.

While he’s practicing one day, he glances down the table to Arya, who had quietly come in and began scribbling on a sheet of paper beside him.

“What are you working on?”

“The household accounts. Who needs to be paid, what needs to be ordered, that sort of thing. I need to finish before Mother and I meet with Varyn Poole and make the rounds before supper.”

Gendry raises an eyebrow, and she smiles.

“This is a Lady’s actual work. This I know I can do.”

She had been pleased to come home to Lady Catelyn insisting that she assist with her own duties rather than just sitting in lessons with Septa Mordane all day. Though, those still happened too. More of them than before, truly, ones about scary future things, potential queenly things.

Something strange had happened as well, the first day she had been back at Winterfell. She had left her chambers quite early, when the sun was still low in the sky, to practice the exercises Syrio had taught her. Arya missed her old master greatly, but she knew he had longed to return to Braavos, and the least she could do was keep up her practice. The only other thing she missed from King’s Landing was Ned, and waiting for every raven from him brings both anticipation and trepidation.

When she was finishing up, she had turned and realized with a start that her mother was watching from the corner of the yard. The shock hit her so hard, she braced herself for a reprimand.

“Nice to see something could teach you a bit of discipline. Go clean up before breakfast.”

Arya had been so confused she had actually done as she was told.

When she finishes up checking her numbers, she asks Gendry.

“What’s on your plate after this?”

“Luwin says history and strategy.”

“Well some of that’s fun at least.”

Gendry leans forward and pushes his head against the smooth wood of the desk. Maester Luwin had left for a moment, so he felt like he could without insulting the old man.

“Then lunch, then I’m free for a bit.”

“Same place as usual? I might be there too.”

Gendry chuckles before she gets up to leave.

“There” was the Winterfell smithy. Mikken had taken to taking a long lunch to avoid the warmest part of the day and working past supper, leaving the forge free for an hour or two to be used by an upjumped bastard who missed his trade. Gendry was confused why the man didn’t have apprentices of his own. Arya had merely shrugged and said that was how it had always been.

“Do you miss it that much?” she asked him today, while he’s beating out a practice piece.

“The work, yes, if not the customers.” He wipes his hands on his trousers. “It was how I knew my worth. I worked hard, my results were good, people paid me. Here- here I don’t know. Do highborns ever take up trades?”

Arya shrugs. She does that a lot it seems, no wonder Maester Luwin said she was a beast to teach.

“Some likely do, as a hobby. Sansa writes that Willas Tyrell breeds hounds and horses. Maybe smithing could be your thing, the way wenches and ale are King Robert’s.”

Gendry’s blood boils, he knows she doesn’t mean it that way, but the very idea of his greatest skill being compared to boozing and whoring made him light up.

“What will yours be, the queen who flings food at people?”

Arya raises an eyebrow.

“Been holding onto that for these six moons? I only did it because I thought Mother was upsetting you, I thought you realized.”

He...had not. It made sense though. He imagines he’s not a subtle man when it comes to emotions.

“The reading and writing will come easier. Eventually, it will be like second nature.” she tells him, before leaving.

And it drives him up the wall to admit she’s right, that with practice both of them become easier, even the longhand letters with all the fancy flourishes.

She’s reading something one day beside him in lessons again, and he asks what it is again.

“Letter from Sansa.”

He raises an eyebrow. For all she used to complain about how Sansa did everything right and she never could measure up, she seems to miss her now that she’s home and getting letters from her.

“How is she?”

Arya sighs softly.

“Not sure really.”

Sansa’s letters have been...odd, is the only way Arya can put it.

“She’s betrothed to...someone from the Reach right?”

Their conversation is interrupted by Maester Luwin coughing. Gendry sighs and recites.

“The Reach, second largest kingdom in Westeros after the North. South of the Westerlands, east of the Stormlands. Ruled by House Tyrell at Highgarden, sigil is a golden rose. The most fertile of the seven kingdoms, they produce much of the kingdom’s food.”

At least that’s something useful to be known for.

Maester Luwin nods approvingly, and Arya continues.

“Sansa’s betrothed to Willas Tyrell, heir to Highgarden,” she bites her lip, “When she left here, she was ecstatic.”

“You think she changed her mind, that she doesn’t want to marry him?”

Arya makes a face. It’s not like it would matter if she had. She had asked Catelyn once why they had accepted the betrothal given the age difference. Catelyn had spoken a bit about the strategic importance of the Reach, especially with winter coming. And then she had said,

“And with your sister’s romantic heart, we thought she might enjoy having a husband who could not go off to war and leave her behind.”

It was something to think about, when she replies to Gendry.

“I don’t know. She speaks very well of him. He is quite a bit older than her, so maybe she doesn’t think they have anything in common. He’s crippled too, he fell from a horse years ago.”

More reason not to spend more time riding than he had to, Gendry decided.

“He did write a very sweet letter to Bran after he woke up from his fall ...Sansa’s always been so certain she knew just how she wanted her life to go, maybe the reality is hitting her a bit hard.”

She’s not sure that’s it, but that’s what she’s decided to go with. Suddenly, she brightens with an idea.

“You have a brother now too, living in Storm’s End. If you need writing practice, you should write him letters, get to know him better.”

Gendry winces. Even if he weren’t self conscious about his writing, he still wouldn’t want to reach out cold to a brother he’s never met.

“That won’t...draw attention to us or anything?”

Maester Luwin interrupts again.

“Edric has been acknowledged by King Robert when he was young. His mother was of noble blood, so his existence was treated quite differently than yours. A letter or two should not arouse any unusual suspicions, and would be a fine time for me to teach you the finer points of formal correspondence.”

That’s something else everyone has begun to talk about too. That as a future king, he should start making connections with other nobles. While Robb and Lady Stark agree that’s not safe for him to travel right now, with eyes from the capital potentially everywhere. Arya sometimes speaks to him about fearing for her father being all alone in the south.

They do insist, however, that whenever one visits Winterfell, he at least be introduced. Whether they are making a petition or simply pledging fealty, he must greet them.

Gendry’s still a Waters, and they don’t wish to draw attention to his parentage, so if asked, he is introduced as a Ser, and Arya’s betrothed. The northerners still raise eyebrows, but Gendry forces his face to remain impassive. The back of his neck drips with sweat through every exchange.

The Manderly’s from White Harbour are the first. Their Lord is a very large and boisterous man who Gendry doesn’t think he could get a single word in edgewise with. His two daughters are both polite, and Arya is immediately drawn towards asking the younger one about her garish green hair.

After the first, they all begin to blend together. Umber, Karstark, Cerwyn, other names.

One, rather than an old man, perhaps with a younger relative or two, is a young woman with curly hair. She is here, she says, on behalf of her ill father. She carries a spear, and Gendry sees the spark appear in Arya’s eye, the spark that says she has spied a potential friend, a kindred soul, a ghost of which had been on her face meeting Wylla Manderly. Gendry loves that spark, it warms him inside to see it. Quite a lot about her seems to warm him nowadays.

It’s after they finish and Arya runs eagerly after, that Gendry asks Lady Stark.

“If I’m going to be king one day-” the words spill out, stumbling, running into things. The idea still will not take root, even as he finds himself growing so much more comfortable with the clean clothes, regular food and friendly faces within Winterfell. “Shouldn’t I get to do this with the whole country before I make any decisions about anything.”

Lady Stark’s mouth forms a tight, thin line.

“As a king, you will have advisors aplenty. Additionally, you may wish to suggest reviving the idea of a royal progress so that you may see much of it for yourself. Your father took his throne when much of what he knew of the country was through waging war against it, and from what I’ve heard he relies very heavily on the knowledge and experience of others to rule, so I imagine you shouldn’t be held back too much by the shortcomings of your birth.”

Gendry’s blood boils again. Whenever he talks to Lady Stark, he nearly always comes off with his blood boiling it seems, and Arya’s not here to distract him now. He grits his teeth and decides it would be best to leave right now.

He ends with a curt, “I think I will be going now, milady,” his voice very carefully emphasizing the shortened pronunciation.

After leaving, he finds Arya with the other woman (Meera Reed, Arya will chide him, while rolling her eyes later, for him forgetting her name so quickly) in the training yard, carefully examining the points of her three-pronged spear. Gendry just holds back and watches until they finish.

Once they are done, Gendry notes that Arya had an odd look on her face.

“Something got your tongue?”

Arya chews her lip.

“It’s just a story Meera told me.”

Gendry looks at her quizzically.

“Has anyone mentioned my aunt Lyanna to you?”

Gendry frowns. The name sounds familiar, but he can’t place it.

Arya nods over her shoulder.

“We’re not needed anywhere right now. Follow me.”

They’re halfway across the Keep, when Gendry realizes she’s leading him towards the crypt, and feels a queer sensation in his gut. This is deeply personal.

“Lyanna was my father’s sister. She was supposed to marry King Robert, but was kidnapped by Rhaegar Targaryen. That’s why your father started the war, to get her back. She died regardless. That’s all I ever really knew about her, that she died and King Robert never seemed to get over it.”

The crypts are dark, even in the middle of the day, they have to carry a torch, but Arya leads him easily. She tells him a bit of what Meera told her, about the Tourney at Harrenhal, and Lyanna attacking the three squires who had been beating a defenseless man.

“I knew of the Tourney, but only that it ended with her being abducted.”

They’ve reached the correct statue, and Arya raises the torch. The sculpture is of a pretty woman, only a little older than her. Gendry doesn’t have to ask before seeing the resemblance.

“Father sometimes said I reminded him of her. But all anyone ever said that meant was that she was beautiful. If what Meera says is true- then I like the comparison much more.”

On an impulse Gendry can’t quite understand, he reaches out and takes her hand.

“I still can’t get my head around possibly being Queen one day...but if there’s an upside, it’s that. I would be able to protect the people who can’t protect themselves. Maybe, anyway.”

It’s the best reason to want to be queen, Gendry supposes.

As the moons go by, he is incredibly grateful for Arya. It’s only with her that he feels like he truly belongs here.

It’s not like the others don’t try. Bran will sit with him frequently during lessons, animatedly adding and asking Maester Luwin for more information on whatever they’re studying; history, strategy. It must be the best thing Bran can find to occupy his time now. Sometimes he came riding with them, but he was far more skittish than he’d been as a child, Arya told him, even with the saddle Tyrion Lannister had helped design.

Maester Luwin had shown him a few drawings at one point, asking for input on a couple of design ideas for a way Bran could get around without someone needing to push or carry him. There must be a way, Gendry thinks, he’s hardly the first injured lordling in history.

Robb too, reaches out to him. Gregarious, dutiful Robb, always inviting him to join them on rides and hunts (he often goes) or to explore Winter Town (he’ll go sometimes during the day) who tries to teach him to play dice and cyvasse (Arya taught him the first on the down low- she’s not supposed to know how, but she’ll often join the two in a game of cyvasse).

He tries, but it still feels like there’s a wall between them. This isn’t helped by the discovery that though he has spent a decent part of his life making swords, Gendry doesn’t have much idea how to wield one.

Arya was horrified. Until his lessons with Ser Rodrik began going better, she can hardly bear to watch him practice. It made him sad a little, but it was still better than the gazes he got from Robb that always felt like pity.

He is improving though, in nearly everything. He can hold his sword right now, his handwriting is legible (and Edric does seem pleased to have a penpal), he can remember nearly all the regions of Westeros with very little prodding. He wished it felt like enough.

He’s been at Winterfell nearly a year and a half when the betrothal announcement is made official. They will marry once Arya turns seven and ten, and then they will leave for King’s Landing.

Robb invites him out to Winter Town to celebrate. Gendry wasn’t going to say yes in the first place, but wants to go even less when Theon joins in.

He hasn’t been rude or dismissive, or anything really, but Gendry still can’t bring himself to like Theon’s often brash, occasionally lecherous self at all.

And if Theon’s involved, Gendry knows exactly why they’re going into town.

When he finally begs them off, Theon ends with, “Seven hells, he’s even less fun than Jon.”

So he’s in a spectacularly grouchy mood when Arya ambushes him and asks if he wants to go for a ride. He jumps out of his skin. All this time, she still can sneak up on him. Her doing it in the forge after lunch a few weeks before ended with them in another childish wrestling match. Sometimes he wonders if even marriage will quell these situations.

“Didn’t want to go to town with them?” she asks while one of the grooms saddles their horses. Autumn has well and set in in the north, but the snow is only a light powder today, “I know Robb sometimes hogs the attention, but there are usually enough fawning girls to go around, and I’m pretty sure Theon is on first name basis with most of the whores in the whole place.”

There’s a tone in her voice he can’t quite put his finger on. And there’s a new sort of offense in his gut.

“Arya, we’re betrothed. I’m not celebrating by immediately going out and fucking someone else.”

Arya’s expression softens, but still has that odd look on her face.

“Gendry...I’m the one who’s virtue is considered paramount. If this weren’t happening here, a maester would probably examine me to prove it. No one much cares about yours, you can do what you want.”

The offense Gendry feels twists and changes into outrage. Going to a brothel when you were betrothed to someone else is something his father would do. Something he always knew his father would do, even before finding out he was the king.

“That’s horrible,” he tells her hotly, pulling back on the bit and stalling his horse so he can look straight at her.

“Look,” he starts, trying to mild his voice, “I’ve never had much attention from girls. Not many go for a nameless bastard living among filth. You saw what happened the last time a woman showed interest in me.”

All he got for that brief hand drifting down his breeches was a brick to the head and loss of his first commission.

“Wait,” Arya interrupts, “Are you saying you’ve never-”

Gendry takes a deep breath before responding, the back of his neck only a little red.

“No, I’ve never. Never had any offers, true, but also never wanted to get any bastards on anyone.”

He watches her face shift again, but still can’t quite read it.

“And once we’re wed, I don’t plan on being the sort of husband who can’t stay faithful. That’s not me, that will never be me.”

Even with the words, Gendry feels a bad taste in his throat at the thought.

Arya’s voice when she speaks again is much quieter. They’ve made the rounds and are back approaching Winterfell again .

“Thank you,” she starts. “Not many men would admit to that.” Her eyes go off onto the horizon, and Gendry has a sinking feeling when he spots Lady Stark waiting beside the stables.

“You’ve done just what I asked you to,” she continues, sliding out of her saddle as her mother approaches, “You’ve been on nothing but your best behavior.”

She then turns to face the music and leaves him behind, only a little befuddled.

Catelyn walks with Arya silently until their alone.

“You shouldn’t go off with him unchaperoned,” she starts, only a little bit scolding, “It will make him think he can take indecent liberties with you. You must remember, he is born of lust and debauchery.”

Arya’s chest burns with indignation. It would normally too, but it does even moreso after their conversation.

“Mother, we used to wrestle-” well, two weeks ago was technically “used to” wasn’t it? “If that didn’t make him think he could do those things, I don’t think a pleasant evening ride will.”

Her insides are in a twist though. In the past few days, Septa Mordane had begun to give her more specific lessons on what to expect on her wedding night. While the idea of seeing Gendry naked had slowly stopped inciting giggles and instead become mildly intriguing, none of the older woman’s words had been reassuring. Her conversation with Gendry had confused her even more.

Catelyn sighs softly and brushes the light dusting of snow off of Arya’s jerkin.

“I would think that if he tried, you would howl like the she-wolf you are, but the two of you do seem to be fond of each other, and you would probably enjoy it, so it is up to the rest of us to remind you of propriety and decency.”

Arya feels herself blushing from head to foot. Her voice sounds almost sulky when she speaks.

“The way Septa Mordane tells it, I’m not sure if I’m even meant to enjoy it.”

Catelyn smiles fondly, and squeezes her daughters shoulders.

“You must remember Arya, that while Septa Mordane is very wise and educated, and demands your respect, that she has never been married. If the two of you have respect for one another, there’s no reason what happens in the marriage bed cannot bring joy to the both of you.”

Arya’s nerves are somewhat lifted, though the slight against Gendry from earlier still stings.

Catelyn leads her back towards her chambers.

“Your sister wrote us from Highgarden,” she says, changing the subject. “She will be coming home to Winterfell in a few moons. Said she would not even dream of missing your wedding. She will be bringing Willas’s sister Margaery with her as well, and speaks of wishing greatly to help with the planning.”

Margaery, Arya recognizes the name from her letters.

“How long will we have to do all of this.”

Catelyn brushes her hair down gently.

“Your seven and tenth name day is only seven moons away, and then you will be on your way to King’s Landing.”

Arya stomach plunges down even further than it had been before. All this time, all the extra lessons, that it still the part of this whole arrangement that frightens her the most.

For what may be the first time in her life, Arya can’t wait to talk to her sister.

#game of thrones #A Song of Ice and Fire #gendrya #fic