heretherebemuses | Open post

"She's doing that anyway. It's why she came to Westeros." To make her own claim on the throne, a better claim to it than Cersei has. The only reason Cersei still has the throne is because she refuses to give it up. She has no legal right to it otherwise. "It's a threat from the north. The reason the Wall was built in the first place, and the Night's Watch founded. If this threat takes over the seven kingdoms, it won't matter who wins the war."

Edited 2021-08-02 03:38 (UTC)

"You cannot mean..." Rhaenys can't even bring herself to say it, but she's heard stories of those meant to be kept beyond the Wall. Nothing more than rumors, of course, and fishwife gossip and pirate tall tales, yet there have been stories all the same. Of creatures that might as well be myth, each story different and more incredulous than the last.

She shivers, though whether it's the thought of the White Walkers or merely the chill in the air, she doesn't make it easy to tell. Or at least until she tries to find something to wrap around herself, and finds none in hand.

Keeping his expression publicly pleasant is a skill Rhaegar's long mastered, for what good did it do an artist to be perceived as a snob by his fans? But there's no masking his wistful expression when Jon mentions Ned, and all the more when he calls Lyanna his mother. Rhaegar's immediately pulled back to that summer, to the first time he's really loved anyone, and then to that day he learned about Lyanna's death. He has to take a long swig of his beer before attempting to say anything, and even then it takes him a while to find the words. Not that he even manages to put all the pieces together just yet.

"Yeah, I wrote that song for her." His voice is soft, and his eyes have a profound sadness to them. "I loved her, but we..." He sighs. "We couldn't be together." Then he shakes his head and looks at Jon, giving him a small nod. "You look a lot like her. I... I didn't know she..."

Lyanna has noticeably vanished from the feast, clearly upset over something more than just Robert Baratheon. She'd looked just a breath away from fighting Ned, in front of the royal delegation and everyone else gathered in Winterfell's great hall, though only her own son would've noticed that.

Jon will find her in the crypts, in front of her brother Brandon's statue.

"The South is no place for a Stark," she says when her son comes, her voice lined with steel yet also close to breaking. "Robert has asked Ned to be his Hand, and..." She shakes her head repeatedly, as if that would change her other brother's mind.

Selene gazes down at King's Landing from her perch on one of the Red Keep's towers, sitting dangerously on the ledge of one of the windows. She's snuck past her guards and has taken up watch in the dead of the night, hoping that her excursion would give her some peace and summon sleep. It's not her marriage that worries her. She'd been concerned for a time, yes, wondering if she should've just chosen the barbarian, but that had been before she'd met Jon. But it's the ghosts of her past that won't keep still, and some nights, in the emptiness of her room, she almost hears her dead brothers calling out to her.

I won't rest until you are avenged, her own voice echoes in her mind, reminding her of a promise she'd made on her mother's deathbed. But she's much too far away to enact any plans of revenge, and her betrothed has practically offered her a new beginning. And wasn't this everything she ever wanted, anyway? A crown she's always been meant to have, and someone she could love in the way her mother had loved her father?

"Wights." An army of the dead, and therefore nearly impossible to defeat. Which is what brings him here. Defeating them will require weapons made from a material that is only available here. "You've heard of them? Most don't believe the stories."

He unties his fur-lined cloak and offers it to her. They won't be outside for much longer. He can do without it. Besides, he's used to deeper cold than this.

"No one did. It was safer that way." Although now that he says it, he's not as sure of that as he once was. He doesn't know what the harm could have been in at least some people knowing of his existence. Those in his father's family, anyway. "Probably for some of the same reasons that you couldn't be together."

He wasn't the only one who had noticed that Lyanna had left the feast, though he was the only one who knew it was because of how upset she was. He had waited a few moments and then followed, less obviously, because he doesn't want anyone to follow him and find them. Mostly because he knows what kind of scolding they'll get from Lyanna if they're interrupted.

"And he will accept." He knows Ned well enough that he doesn't have to be told where he thought is going. They both know what comes next. "Perhaps he thinks he can do some good."

Jon's coronation had been celebrated throughout Westeros, with most households mainly caring because it meant an end to years of war. Some of the great Houses had celebrated the return of a Targaryen to the throne; some of them had cared that it meant that the Lannisters were no longer anywhere near the throne. And those who had been less than pleased at the turn of events had been smart enough not to make it known.

Then his small council had brought up the topic of a wife, and an heir, and he knew they were right. If he wants to solidify his position and avoid another war of succession, he needs both of those things. He had just put some caveats on it. He wanted to meet any potential wives before making anything official, and she had to agree to everything as well. He wants a wife who isn't after the role just because it means she get to be queen; one Cersei Lannister is enough for his lifetime. After the feasts, the conversations, the negotiations, and an important discussion with Sansa, his marriage to Selene is impending.

He's out and about in the Red Keep himself, as he is most nights. If he doesn't see his own death again when he tries to sleep, he sees Rickon's, the one he couldn't prevent. Or he imagines deaths he wasn't even present for but which still torment him anyway.

Add in all of his new responsibilities from sitting on the Iron Throne, and he rarely has a night of untroubled sleep.

He has left Ghost in his room tonight, but he knows there are a couple of members of the Kingsguard nearby everywhere he goes, and he can't do anything about that. He's gotten used to the shadows following him around.

He climbs up tonight, remembering his time at the Wall and all of the cold nights he had stood watch. How things have changed since then. He's not afraid of heights, at least, so up to the tower he goes.

He turns the corner and is surprised to see that he's not the first one to arrive there. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize there was anyone else up here." His accent sets him apart from those who have spent their entire life in King's Landing, but here he won't feel so aware of that. Not with someone else who isn't from King's Landing either.

Lyanna wrings her hands for the lack of anything better to do with them. "Aye, and he has always been fond of Robert." Alone with her son in a place no one would think to go during a feast, she doesn't bother to mask the venom in her voice when she says the King's name. "He'll never listen to me..."

She turns to look at Jon then, her face unusually distraught. Because the worry she holds is not just for her brother, but for her son too. Silently, she thanks the Old Gods that Jon bears not a single hint of his father's appearance... except for his brooding, thoughtful nature. But that could be easily mistaken for the Starks' sullenness, too. Still, if Ned, the only other person with the knowledge of Jon's true parentage, is bound for the capital...

"I hope you and Robb aren't planning to accompany him?" She might be overreacting, but she wants to nip in the bud any boyish thoughts of adventure they might have.

"He is a Stark." Jon shares her concern for Ned, though for different reasons, as unfamiliar as he is with King's Landing. He knows that his presence at Winterfell is only tolerated because of Ned, and he doesn't know what it means for him if Ned leaves. Where does he end up? In truth, there's really only one place for people like him. He had always figured it would happen someday. It may just be sooner than expected. In the meantime, he just has to watch his father and his aunt (with whom he has a closer relationship than any of his siblings do) have their battle of wills and wait for the outcome.

"Robb will be lord of Winterfell while Father is away." It will be good practice for when he's lord of Winterfell in his own right. "I'm not sure what my place will be after this."

Edited 2022-07-07 14:57 (UTC)

His quiet approach startles her, but she's thankfully had more than enough experience with actually not being queenly and sitting on and climbing out of windows. "Jon!" she exclaims, one hand clutching the edge of the stone upon which she sat, the other wrapped around a small satchel she's diligently wearing over her nightdress. Maybe it might seem like she's only forgotten to call him by his title because of her fright, but she'd also warmed up rather quickly to him - though there were still secrets, of course, that she refused to share. "You startled me. What are you doing here?"

She shifts to bring herself a little more inside the tower than outside, leaning in a way that indicated she was checking if he'd brought Ghost with him. "If I'm not supposed to be here, I'm sorry," she apologizes, though she doesn't stand up to bow or curtsy or whatever. "I just..." She looks away, the hand around her satchel tightening. "I can't sleep."

She's taken well to King's Landing for the most part, though she still longs for the beauty and splendor of her own Alexandria. And while she's found some sense of belonging with the family she's about to marry into, she hasn't entirely shed her self-consciousness on the fact that she's a foreigner, and that she's practically a gift from Octavian for a promise of alliance with this new king. She's just really good at not showing it. Her mother had taught her well.

If she had called him by his title, he would have told her to call him by his name anyway, so he hardly pays attention to how she addresses him. It's nice, too, to walk into a room and not have everyone present stumble over themselves to show him the deference that his title demands. He's still more comfortable as Jon Snow than he is as Aegon IV Targaryen, and he has a suspicion that he always will be. "I'm still not used to being able to go anywhere in the Red Keep that I wish, without having to ask permission first." Technically, he can go anywhere in all of Westeros and doesn't need to ask permission first, but he doesn't dwell on that. "Soon the same will be true of you." He's not going to argue the point before then.

He leans against the opposite side of the window and looks out over the sleeping city. The city he is now responsible for, along with the entirety of the six kingdoms (he allowed Sansa to keep Winterfell independent, having no good reason not to). "Most nights I don't find it easy to sleep, either."

She looks down at her hands when he reminds her of her freedom, reminded also of the golden chains that had adorned her wrists when her family's conqueror had paraded her and her twin brother through the streets. She'd never expected to be ever truly free, yet here she is now, just about to have that, and more.

Before she could comment on that, he moves to gaze at the city too, though her own come to rest on him. He's an intriguing man, this Jon Snow. Her guardian, the illustrious Emperor of Rome, had laughed when he'd been told of Jon's terms for any marriage proposals, then had not-so-subtly threatened her to do her part in securing the alliance. "I'm sure you have enough of your mother's charms," he'd told her, and it was only the promise of a way out that had stopped her from reacting to his taunts.

"You've seen things, I heard." From her handmaidens, whom she's made fast friends of as well. "Dragons, and demons... I wouldn't be able to sleep, either." Her family members' deaths aside, she also continues to have nightmares of that night in the Temple of the Vestals, when the Shard — the very one she keeps in the satchel she seems to wear all the time — had unleashed an inexplicable power that had led to the blinding of one of the temple maidens.

"Though I'd also heard wine can help bring peace, if only for the night. As does..." She trailed off, suddenly reminded she was still speaking to her lord. She shrugged and smiled coyly at him, then turned her face away before she'd find him looking at her. Yes, she did have her mother's charms. She's just never really wanted to use them.

Edited 2022-07-08 11:40 (UTC)

"Among other things." Things she may one day hear about. Things that have left scars that she will notice, one day soon. He's heard the stories about himself, which had spread like wildfire, and as far as he can tell, they're all completely true. There's no exaggeration, but there doesn't need to be. He wouldn't believe the stories if he hadn't lived them himself.

And the songs, of course. It had taken mere days for the bards to write them and share them all across Westeros, from Dorne to the river areas in the north. Sansa had even sent him a raven to tell him that they've made their way to Winterfell, too. The North might be an independent kingdom now, but he and Sansa have agreed to an alliance between the two realms.

At her last statement, he turns to her with a look of surprise. No woman in Westeros -- at least none outside of Littlefinger's brothels or King's Landing's slums -- would broach the subject that boldly. It makes him think of Ygritte, the first woman he'd known who had made it clear what she wanted. He had noticed, from his first interaction with Selene, that she had that boldness in her, and that had now led to this moment, where they will soon be married. He hopes that he continues to discover things about her that are unexpected.

"I've heard that too."

Among other things, yes. She's heard the songs too. Or at least some of them, and they'd amused her with how preposterous they'd been. She realizes that such tales and songs are always embellished, of course, but it appears that her betrothed is in fact embarrassed by those recounts of his accomplishments. A king who does not have the flair for politics... how intriguing. He's wise to have chosen her to be his wife, then. She can do the politicking for him.

She meets his gaze when he acknowledges what she's said about finding peace at night. There's a hint of shyness now, if only because she's unsure if she's spoken out of turn. When he doesn't appear to be upset by it, she dares to take a step further. "And you do not partake?" There's curiosity in her dark eyes, but also something more playful. Though she leaves it ambiguous enough so he could choose to pretend they're only talking about wine.

Jon hadn't been taught the finer points of politics like Robb had growing up, since no one had expected that he would have need of them, although at this point, it's fair to say that the best among the Starks at the political side had turned out to be Sansa. Which is why Sansa had eventually been able to convince him to take the position he had never wanted. And when Sansa had recognized those same political skills in Selene, she had encouraged Jon to make Selene his choice. He can apply the lessons that Ned Stark taught him, and she can guide the political moves.

He's not sure he's equipped to lead in peacetime, so he hopes she is.

The playfulness he can see reminds him of Ygritte again, just a little. Doomed Ygritte, with whom a life would never really have been possible, so matter much they had wanted it. There were just some things that neither of them was willing to give up. But, maybe, that life is possible with someone else. Which has led to here, a tower of the Red Keep, with a woman who will soon be his wife.

"I...have partaken." The fact that both of the women with whom he has partaken are now dead is a fact that he does not feel the need to mention. Not yet, at any rate. It's more important that she's aware that he's not partaking of anything at the moment. "Do you?"

Of course he has partaken. But what surprises her is how he makes it clear that it had been in the past. Most curious, for a king. And a conqueror at that, if the songs about him were to be believed.

She's also surprised by the fact that he's chosen not to opt for the wine.

"I have been taught a great deal about partaking," she answers in turn, no shame at all in her voice at having been exposed to such things, "in preparation for this. Father..." She stumbles at that, and for a moment, something dark flashes across her face. She hated having to call Octavian that, after he'd driven her true father to fall on his own sword. "... would not have approved if I'd disgraced myself with a man he did not approve of."

But that isn't all that she has to say. Her freedom might've been limited, as the hostage of a conqueror, but there were things she'd been able to choose for herself, at least. "And I did not want to give myself to a man who only thought of me as a means to an end." She gives Jon a meaningful look, the corners of her lips curling up into a small smile.

He answers her smile with one of his own. "I see why Sansa approved so highly of you." And he had finally learned to listen to Sansa, at least sometimes, because he knows what the consequences of a wrong choice could be.

He thinks, too, of Ygritte, and her teasing about how he really didn't know any of the things he thought he did. How he had known new things at the end of his time with her, and how many things he's learned since then. Including a few hard-earned lessons.

"It's been my experience that being taught about things and actually doing things are often completely different. Depending on the topic under consideration, naturally." This, so far, seems like a topic that she is interested in learning more about.

Her smile grows at the mention of the Queen in the North. She hadn't spent a lot of time with Sansa, but she'd spent enough to say that she liked the woman. "I am glad to have her approval." It's less because she can't screw up this arrangement or else she'll face her guardian's wrath, but more of she's found some hope of a future in Westeros and would rather remain here than get shipped back to Rome.

Then she adds, in a tone that's unmistakably flirty, "And I hope I have yours as well, Your Grace?" This time she purposely uses his title instead of his name, knowing that he'll bother to correct it.

She slips off the window entirely, her motions graceful and fluid despite the hints of her rebellious streak. She's so much shorter than him but she holds herself well regardless, with the confidence of a queen, of a fighter. "Aye, experience truly is the best teacher." She gives him a playful bat of her lashes, which somehow she manages to appear natural; this area, it seems, she has plenty of experience in.

Jon's glad that Selene has Sansa's approval too, because that means Sansa won't bother him about his choice. He has enough to worry about without his sister and his wife fighting over him. Which is why he had asked Sansa for her help in the first place; some trouble could have been avoided if he had just listened to her last time.

Now he knows that she's doing it on purpose, and he has to admit he likes it. He spent his entire life not really having a place in Westeros, and while he has one now, he's still adjusting to it. Along with not having a place, he had sometimes struggled to feel like someone cared about him (except for Ned; he never doubted how Ned felt about him). It sends a thrill down his spine to have that feeling again, the thought that maybe someone can feel that way about him again.

"You can call me by my name." Which she obviously is aware of, since she's done it already. But now it's official that she can do so. "If we're going to move on to the practical lessons, we'll need to go somewhere more private. We can have some wine sent up."

She hadn't been entirely sure he'd play along. Humor her flirting some, maybe, but still keep her at arm's length. They're still strangers, after all, and only here because they've come to a beneficial political arrangement. But then he's proposing what he's proposing, and she has to smile.

"I can't sleep anyway." The words make it sound like it's no big deal, but her tone and body language say otherwise, ready to follow him to wherever his 'somewhere more private' is. She steps closer to him to indicate just that. "And you'll tell me more about yourself, Jon?"

He had surprised himself a little, too, when he said it, since they are still strangers. Nothing is expected of them until after the wedding, which gives them time to know each other better before then. But this is probably one of the last choices he'll ever get to make, and wherever they choose to make the night go, he'll go with it. He likes the idea of it happening because they want it to, not because it's expected of them. There are going to be some changes in the kingdom of Westeros, and it might as well start now.

"I can't guarantee that I will tell you everything." He knows that she has secrets too, and they have both agreed to take the other even without knowing what those secrets are. That might be exactly what he needs. "Your bedchamber or mine?"

"I won't ask for everything, and neither will I tell," she agrees. Even her parents, for as much as they loved each other, had secrets. Everyone has secrets, and she'll respect his silence for as long as he'll respect hers.

But perhaps she'll tell him about the Shard. If he's commanded a dragon and fought against creatures of ice, then a rock that controls air (to a degree) will be something he can handle. Then maybe, just maybe—

She stops herself before her fantasies of revenge could take root again. She has a new life now, and while it's not the one she'd hoped for, it's better than anything a conquered queen could've achieved on her own.

His question also gives her pause, though only for a moment. She smiles, pleased to have been given a choice. "Mine," she answers with a grin, almost daring him to protest. But she'd started this whole... interaction, didn't she? It seems just about fair.

He doesn't know if his parents had secrets from each other, and never will know, but he does know that they each had a major secret that they were keeping from their families. Ned, too, was keeping a secret, not just from his wife but from his entire family, and in fact all of Westeros. Which may have changed his relationship with certain people, but it didn't prevent him from having them. There's no reason for secrets to hinder their relationship either, especially as there's no chance that these secrets somehow relate to each other.

"Yours, then." He won't protest her decision. He'd asked for a reason. He locates one of the servants and instructs for some wine to be sent to her bedchamber. This part, at least, of his new life he's used to, after growing up in Winterfell and then having a steward at the Wall. "Lead the way then."

Open post | Jon Snow

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i remembered this as i was looking for your open post, so have a surprise tag c:

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now i'm just piling on you

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surprise tags are the best tags

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bring it on

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