As much as Rhaegar “The OG Fuckboy” Targaryen’s actions
provoked the rebellion, it wasn’t just a rebellion again him. It was a rebellion against the tyrannical House Targaryen in
general. King Aerys was a cruel and terrible leader with no vision.
I don’t give a single fuck how “in love” Rhaegar and Lyanna
were, each major player in the Rebellion
Robert Baratheon was promised to Lyanna Stark. He loved Lyanna Stark.
I’m supposed to believe that Robert was wrong for
the sole reason that Lyanna wasn’t kidnapped and raped? No, sorry. I ain’t
drinking the Rhaegar x Lyanna kool-aid.
understand Lyanna didn’t want to marry Robert (ironically because he couldn’t
keep to one bed *cough* ELIA MARTELL *cough*). However, betrothals are a
big deal in Westeros. It goes beyond just a marriage, it’s an
alliance. Robb Stark literally lost is head because he broke a
promised to Robert.
By running off with Lyanna, the crowned prince
chose to ignore Westerosi customs, ignore an alliance between two noble houses,
and ignore Robert Baratheon’s wishes.
So, the Baratheon’s reason for the rebellion?
Rebellion did not start with Robert Baratheon. It started
with the deaths of Rickard and Brandon Stark.
First of all, it’s important to keep in mind that Westerosi customs put a
woman’s age of majority at 16. This means that technically Lyanna belonged to
her father, Rickard Stark. He had already promised his daughter to Robert Baratheon. Rhaegar
running off with Lyanna is also him saying “I know you wanted her
with Robert, but I don’t care. I’m ~*~so in love~*~, deal with it.”
Again, Lyanna wasn’t kidnapped, we know this. However, she still
disappeared with the prince without even a whisper of her safety. Rhaegar and Lyanna were
either incredibly selfish, or terribly short-sighted and stupid to think that
her family wouldn’t go looking for her.
Rickard Stark, the Warden of the North, was burned to death by King Aerys while
his son strangled to death trying to save him. THIS
was the catalyst of the rebellion, not Robert.
and did I mention that Aerys’ also asked for Robert and Eddard’s heads? Because, yeah. He did that too.
Rhaegar ignored Rickard Stark’s wishes. He ran off with his
daughter without so much as a note. As a result of their “love”, Lyanna and
Rhaegar led to the death of her brother and father at the hands of his tyrannical, psychotic father. The
Targaryen dynasty killed off the Lord of Winterfell, Brandon Stark, and wanted
Eddard dead as well.
The Starks reason for the rebellion? Justified ✔
Jon Arryn was a father figure to Robert Baratheon and Eddard
Again, Rickard Stark, Warden of the North and Lord of
Winterfell, Father of Eddard Stark, was murdered as a tyrannical maniac. King Aerys wanted Robert and Ned dead.
Robert Baratheon’s betrothed disappeared and the crowned prince ignored the betrothal for his own selfish wishes.
Of fucking course he’s
going to rally behind the houses he aligned himself with and defend them.
The Arryns? Justified ✔
Again, similar to the Arryns, House Tully was aligned with the
Catelyn Tully was betrothed to Brandon Stark (as a reminder he
was strangled to death!). She later went on to marry
Lysa Tully was betrothed to Jon Arryn.
The Tully’s were directly affected by King Aerys’ actions, and
indirectly by Rhaegar’s. They were alligned with Houses Stark and Arrys, again OF FUCKING COURSE they will rally behind their allies.
The Tully’s? Justified
tl;dr: Rhaegar is a fuckboy piece of shit. Lyanna and Rhaegar are
not “star-crossed lovers”, they are either short-sighted and stupid or selfish.
Take your pick. House Targaryen was a tyrannical mess. Robert’s Rebellion was
far more complex than just the simple belief that Lyanna was kidnapped.
Alright! You guys asked for it. Boatsex oneshot. I wrote this from Daenery’s POV. This has major spoilers for Season 7.
Daenerys sat looking out of the window in her cabin in the
queen’s chambers on the ship. The ship Rhaego
was sailing north towards White Harbor. The journey would be a long one going
up North from Dragonstone, long and cold. They were going to sail to White
Harbor, and then ride for Winterfell from there. Dany wasn’t looking forward to
the biting cold that would await her and the rest of her army when she arrived.
She wasn’t looking forward to another war, one she didn’t know could be won. Not just another war, The Great War. She
Arriving in Westeros all those months ago, she never
expected things would turn out like this. White Walkers, Night King, and dead
ice men come to lay icy death to the place she was trying to liberate with her
flames? She had merely come with the notion that she would be facing a Mad Queen,
Cersei Lannister. Cersei Lannister proved to be a formidable foe, and the
battle had only just begun when Jon Snow came to Dragonstone declaring the
world was going to end because ice zombies were marching on some magical wall.
She thought he was a crazy northern fool when she met him. This
man proclaiming himself King in the North. A kingdom that belonged to her. This
man who refused to call her Queen, bend the knee, and even had the audacity to
call her a child. This man who came in asking for her children, her armies, and
her loyalty for help fighting these ice zombies, and he would give nothing in
return. She’d be a fool to trust him. Oh, how she was wrong. She brought dragons back to life, walked
through flames, and liberated hundreds of thousands of slaves, but she didn’t
believe him about the army of the dead?
She didn’t know when she had begun to trust him. Was it when
she let him mine the dragon glass, and he asked her if she believed him about
the army of the dead? Tyrion saw fit to keeping him here as an ally. Was it
when he showed her the paintings in the cave drawn by the Children and first
men? She had pledged to fight for the north, or did she pledge to fight for
him? Of that, she didn’t know. At the
time. Was it when she came back on Drogon’s back to Dragonstone after
burning the Lannister army to the ground? Jon has been standing right in front
of her child and showed no fear. Did he
have the blood of a dragon? Drogon had let him touch his snout. Was it when
she saw the ice zombies herself when she came to rescue them from their icy
deaths? Daenerys had seen many things, but these creatures symbolized death
itself. Was it when he fell into the lake off Drogon’s back, or when Viseron
fell from the sky? That she didn’t know either.
She realized then when he returned on his dead uncle’s
horse, that she had trusted him all along. She believed him before she even saw
it for herself. To say she was relieved when she saw Tormund and Gendry
carrying him back in the castle at Eastwatch-by-the-sea would be an understatement.
It took him a week to recover, and she was there by his side every second of
the way. He told her he would bend the knee after she pledged herself to fight
the White Walkers, and end her war with Cersei. For now.
“I’d bend the knee but…”
He said. He physically couldn’t bend the knee, as he was injured almost to the
point of death. He was lying naked in a cot. Daenerys didn’t mind the sight.
“What about those who
pledged to you?”, she asked.
“I will tell my people
what happened here, and how you risked your life and your children to protect
me and my men. The Great War is here, and there is no need a squabble over
lands that may lie in ice and ash when the war is done.”
“I don’t want you to
bend the knee. When the war is over and we defeat this Night King and burn
Cersei Lannister to the ground, The North is yours.”
She didn’t know what compelled her to let the North have
their independence after all was done, if there was a North left to rule. She hadn’t
realized it until she left his room that night.
Daenerys was a
stubborn, hard headed woman. She had lost the ability to feel when her sun and
stars was taken from her by that evil witch. She had respect, pride, and
admiration for those closest to her. She had love for her children, of course. She
even felt lust when she had Daario in her bed back in Essos, although she felt
nothing when she let him go.
“He wasn’t the first
to love you, and he won’t be the last.” Tyrion’s words echoed in her mind. At
the time, just mindless hope from her hand. Daenerys never thought the fire in
her could ever be truly lit again. That is until she met Jon Snow.
He was stubborn and
hard headed just like herself. He was demanding and self-righteous. He fought
with her every step of the way, but he had an intensity and passion for his
cause that made her admire him. She had grown to respect and trust him in a
very short amount of time. She even heeded his advice when she rode Drogon into
the battle at Highgarden.
She knew that she
lusted for him from the start. He was handsome, after all. It had been so long
since she felt a man’s touch. As she got to know him, that admiration and lust
turned into something more. The fire that hadn’t been lit since Drogo had come
back with not just a lingering spark, but an explosion. This fire was different
from the one she shared with Drogo. Drogo had lit a flame in her that was dim
and soft, and she had sometimes felt her love for him was forced. The fire Jon
lit within her was burning, piercing, a fire that was as hot as the one that
Drogon spewed from his mouth. She had seen that same fire, in his eyes, when
she walked towards him in the cave full of dragon glass. He felt that fire too.
That much was clear.
It wasn’t until that
fire burned in her so hot when he fell from Drogon’s back. That fire could have
melted the Night King’s heart.
As she thought of the
memory, that was when she realized she didn’t just have a flame for him.
She loved him.
Daenerys was pulled from her thought when there was a knock
at her cabin door. She wasn’t expecting anyone this late at night. She only
wore a thin black dress, like the ones she wore back in the hotter days in
Essos. Her hair was loose and framed her face, she didn’t feel the need to look
She crossed the cabin, and opened the door.
She let out a surprised shock to see Jon standing at her
door in the middle of night with nothing but pants and a thin shirt on. His
hair was loose, falling out of the bun he usually wore on his head. He looked
like he had just walked through the flaming desert in the Red Waste. He had a
wild look in his eyes, and she found it hard to look into them. His eyes had
shined with a fire she had never seen in any man before, not even her sun and
stars. Her breath stopped short.
“Jon?” was all she could say. You couldn’t cut the tension
between them, even with Ser Beric’s flaming sword. Daenerys could only stare at
him. The fire exploding through her stomach and down to her thighs. She felt
like a young, inexperienced girl who had never been touch by a man before, not the
powerful queen she had become. No man had ever made her feel like Jon Snow did.
She opened the door to the cabin and he stepped in still not
saying a word. He just strode toward her like a wolf coming for its prey.
She didn’t know who kissed the other first. All she knew was
that his lips were on hers, and she had never felt more alive. He bit her
bottom lip, and entered his hot tongue into her mouth. She almost exploded just
from that. He cradled her face in his hands, and her hands glided through his
hair and untied the bun. She didn’t realize he had such beautiful curls. His
hands roamed her body, and she a burned every time he would touch her exposed
skin. Was this some kind of dream? Would she wake up in her bed alone, sticky
and dripping with sweat, from the sweetest dream she’d ever known?
He backed her against the cabin wall with hard thud. She
knew this was no dream.
He kissed her deeply and harder than any man had ever
before. She kissed him back with just as much passion. His lips moved from her
lips down to her neck and collarbone. She moaned in pure pleasure.
It all happened in a blur after that. He ripped her dress off
her body, and threw her on the small bed. She ripped his shirt of him when he
came on top of her. She saw the jagged scars that covered his chest. So, this was what Ser Davos meant when he
took a knife in the heart for his people.
She slowed their movements. Tears swelling her eyes. She
looked at him.
“How could they do this you?’
He said nothing, but his demeanor had softened and he wasn’t
the wolf anymore.
He wasn’t a king then, nor was she a queen. Just Dany, just
She flipped them over, and kissed her way down his chest,
not missing any scar.
She looked into his eyes, and saw that they swirled with
nothing but desire, and dare she say it? Love.
Daenerys had always been a woman who loved to be in control
when it came to making love. She loved the feeling of a man losing control
underneath her as she rode them as fiercely as she rode her dragons.
Jon flipped them over, and Daenerys was the one to lost
He entwined her hands behind her head and looked deep into
Gone was the stoic, brooding king. He was just Jon now.
He kissed her again all over her body, and then kissed her
there. Something Missandei told her about when Greyworm had made love to her. “The
Lord’s Kiss” she had called it.
It was a feeling she never wanted to go away. She screamed
in pleasure and clenched her first into the furs.
When they finally came together, she saw stars. White, hot,
burning pleasure filled her body. The
flames had burned their way into her soul.
When he finally collapsed next her, and she calmed her
breath. She looked at him.
He was staring up at the ceiling with a dazed look on his
She has never seen anything more beautiful in her life.
He winded his arm around her, and she settled into his
She could feel his wild heartbeat, and the sound was more
beautiful than any song she’d ever heard.
She loved him with her entire being. She knew that now. She
wondered why it took so long for her to see that.
She didn’t say anything to him as she drifted to sleep.
She felt the ghost a kiss on her forehead.
Even though death was surely coming upon the world, she had
never felt more safe.
A short impromptu one shot of Dany dreaming of her comely lover.
Sitting in front of her vanity mirror, Dany thought about the cave paintings that the King in the North had shown her, the burning of the Tarlys and the spoils of war. She was rubbing her hands with oil drifting her though to thinking of the Night King, the Others, and entertaining the idea of what Jon was saying is true which made her shiver, hearing the cries of Drogon outside made everything better, and smelled her oiled hands, the lavender soothed her.
I am a bastard too now, just like him. Oh, it would be so sweet, to see him once again.
Frog-faced Lord Slynt sat at the end of the council table wearing a black velvet doublet and a shiny cloth-of-gold cape, nodding with approval every time the king pronounced a sentence. Sansa stared hard at his ugly face, remembering how he had thrown down her father for Ser Ilyn to behead, wishing she could hurt him, wishing that some hero would throw him down and cut off his head.
“I will not hang him,” said Jon. “Bring him here.” “Oh, Seven save us,” he heard Bowen Marsh cry out. The smile that Lord Janos Slynt smiled then had all the sweetness of rancid butter. Until Jon said, “Edd, fetch me a block,” and unsheathed Longclaw.
This story is in response to some alleged ‘spoilers’. I haven’t read them but have gotten the gist from several people. A story was asked and this is my interpretation of things. I had quite a good time writing this. It is long, there are major character deaths and if you’re a Daenerys fan, it might be best if you avoided this story.
Characters: Sansa Stark, Jon Snow, Daenerys Targaryen, Bran Stark, Tyrion Lannister, Samwell Tarly, Varys, Arya Stark
They are a sorry sight, bedraggled and wounded, their horses
emaciated and near dying as they approach the gates of Winterfell. It had been a hard journey back from Kings
Landing where their ill-conceived idea of treating with the Mad Queen, Cersei,
resulted in devastating losses they could never had imagined. Daenerys dragons, all gone. Her mighty Dorothki and Unsullied troops,
smashed. They had barely escaped with
their own lives, their pitiful party of the Mother of Dead Dragons, Varys,
Tyrion and Jon. All others had been lost as they realized that a cunning and
mad queen willing to risk everything was more than match for three dragons and
two armies. Especially if they were
stupid and naïve enough to believe Cersei would be willing to listen to their
talk of alliances and a greater threat.
They only made out alive with the timely arrival and assistance of
Brienne and Podrick, who were sent by Sansa to protect Jon.
He should have listened to Sansa. She had tried to warn him to not trust Cersei
and yet again, he ignored his cousin’s sage advice and it was only the
intervention of Sansa’s sworn sword and her squire that he lived.
Jon had left Winterfell many moons ago to bring back dragon
glass and powerful allies. While he was
able to get a shipment of dragon glass sent to Sansa, all he had to show for
his trip south was a broken would-be queen, a dwarf, a eunuch and a wounded
Summary: The North’s King no more and the Queen who should’ve been are inside her chamber which he guards. He can’t hear everything clearly, but the fool’s white wolf beside him could. It wasn’t that long ago that he stood guard over another queen’s chamber and did nothing when he should’ve. He won’t fail again.
“You’re hurting me,” they had heard Rhaella cry through the oaken door.
“We are sworn to protect her as well,” Jaime had finally been driven to say.
“We are,” Darry allowed, “But not from him.”
- Feast for Crows, Jaime
Jaime stood closer to the door he was guarding most nights than not.
Once again, he was a sworn knight to another.
Once more, he laid down his sword, his, life, and more vows.
Ser Jaime of the Kingsguard.
Shield to the Mad King Aerys Targaryen, who died by his sword.
Sword to the Usurper King Robert Baratheon, who died by his family’s scheming.
Protector to King Joffrey Baratheon, who died by the Tyrell’s protection for Queen Margaery.
Counsel to King Tommen Baratheon, who died by his own hand.
Partner and now traitor to Queen Cersei Lannister, who killed their love.
He laughed bitterly. Maybe Joff had the right of it when he read the Book of the Brothers that recounted half a page dedicated to his illustrious career as a kingsguard, ending with him being called Kingslayer which, now that he thought about it, was apt, since he’d outlived all kings he pledged to serve.
And also why he had to turn away from Cersei. As much as it pains him, he wouldn’t want to be branded a Queenslayer too should it come down to it.
She’d let the realm bleed so long as she got what she wanted.
Burn them all.
As if fire was the answer to everything even after seeing what the bigger threat was. As much as he still loved Cersei, he didn’t want to be witness to her self-destruction. He did not want to hold any part to her demise. He tried everything, tried every reason, and tactic, yet she was too consumed with grief and ambition.
I’m grieving too.
Yet here he was, right back where he started. Pledging to yet another cause, even after so many broken vows.
A canon-compliant exploration of the Jonsa tension boiling beneath the surface. Will likely become canon divergent and smutty in the future.
Wow this turned out way longer than I thought it would. I have literally been working since 4am this morning. There wasn’t a ton of Jonsa added but there is plenty of anti-Jonerys so hopefully that will satisfy us all for now.
WARNING: This fic contains mentions of rape but does not contain sexual content.
She’s a fine woman, your sister. I’ll be happy to have her back in my bed.
shot upright in his tiny bunk. He desperately looked around the cabin
and grasped the air where his sword should have been as Ramsay Bolton’s
words echoed in his head. Jaw clenched, he closed is eyes and pictured
his sister’s face. She was beautiful. Soft and pale light a high winter
moon. Her bruises had faded, he reminded himself. Her injuries had all
but healed. She was safe in their castle, waiting for him to return.
beach at Dragonstone was a dreary sight. It really was just a giant
rock.The ancient keep that guarded it was just as bleak in design and
construction. He thought it none too ironic that the House of Fire and
Blood had chosen to build their castle in a place that had nothing left