Characters: Tywin Lannister, Genna Lannister, Kevan Lannister
Summary: What becomes of you when there is no one left to remember who you once were? Tywin, Kevan and Genna sibling-fic.
The book Dragonkin, Being a History of House Targaryen from Exile to Apotheosis, with a Consideration of the Life and Death of Dragons was written by Maester Thomax. There is a rather nice picture of Balerion the Black Dread done in coloured inks in the book.
A known copy survives in the library at Castle Black. Its last known whereabouts were in Maester Aemon’s chambers at Castle Black. Lord Commander Jon Snow may have taken possession of the book.
Asha’s mother wept for days—days and days, and even when Asha wasn’t nearby, she could almost feel her mother’s tears, as though their souls were connected in a way that no one else’s were.
Asha missed Theon, she missed his smile and the way he followed her around and the way that she could sit him down and explain to him what the different kinds of clouds meant—which ones meant storms so you had to take in your sails, and which ones meant clear weather and strong winds. He would wrap his arms around her and together they’d plan raids on the Greenlands. (“Lannisport first,” she’d always said, “and after that, maybe inland to the Riverlands.” And Theon would nod and smile and promise her that he’d have at least twenty longships by the time they went and that that would be more than enough to take Tywin Lannister’s whole fleet in the ass.)
She missed Rodrik and Maron too, her taller, older, louder brothers, who, ever since they started growing hair on their chest, had to be forced to pay attention to her. Rodrik had taken to doing the Finger Dance, just to show he could, and Maron had laughed and mimicked his motions, eager to learn. Neither of them had had time for Asha—still too young to even fight properly, they said—but she missed them all the same, because Pyke wasn’t the same without them. Pyke was suddenly empty, without all her brothers, Theon’s whining squeals whenever Rodrik had pinched him from behind, Maron’s tuneless singing. No wonder her lord grandfather had had nine sons to fill the echoing , damp halls of his castle.
She missed her brothers, but she missed her mother most of all, her mother whose strong jaw and whose straight posture seemed both to have melted when she lost all of her sons in the span of a month. Her mother, who curled around herself in her bed and wept and wept because in all her life, she’d never felt quite so defeated.
Asha did her best. Asha tried—really and truly tried—to make her mother smile again. But it seemed as though smiles were a thing of the past, so Asha contented herself with climbing up into the bed with her and worming her way into her mother’s arms, as though she were younger than Theon, as though she were still a little babe who needed to be comforted when the world was scary.
She liked to think she succeeded—that she did comfort her mother somewhat on those days when her mother couldn’t even bring herself to rise from her bed. Her tears were more sparse, at least, and her breathing more easy, as she held Asha’s hand in hers.
“Be bold, my Asha—let no man bend you to his will,” her mother would murmur.
I will, thought Asha, but she didn’t say it. Instead, she just listened to her mother’s breath, shaky and uneven as she settled back into her tears.
A week after Elia Martell’s 8th name day passes, the Lady of Dorne shares with her a curious thing.
“It won’t be long before we find you a handsome prince,” her mother says, prising the tangles out of her daughter’s long, dark tresses with deft fingers. “It is fortunate that you are such a pretty girl.”
Elia is rendered aghast by her mother’s knowing look and she confides as much to her younger brother. In response, Oberyn wrinkles his delicate nose.
“You shan’t marry anyone!” he cries fiercely, with a petulant stamp of his little feet. “I won’t let them! But if you must, I promise that you will only be wed to the best.”
Oberyn is true to his word; of all the oaths that he enters into when he is a child, the pact that he forges with Elia is not forgotten. When Elia comes of age, scores of suitors are cast aside with a dismissive arch of her brother’s eyebrow. It is only upon the arrival of Rhaegar Targaryen to the shores of their kingdom that Oberyn relents.
It is decided then, that the Dornish Princess and the Crown Prince are to be tethered together in the fall.
“I told you that you were always made for greater things,” Oberyn croons triumphantly on her wedding day, as her stomach curdles with trepidation. “That haughty Lannister bitch pales in comparison to you.”
Much later, after the hammer falls and the blood congealing beneath her fingernails are all that she has to remember her children by, Elia Targaryen becomes a benumbed thing. Amidst the carnage, they come for her. As Ser Gregor Clegane’s thick fingers tighten upon her throat, her brother’s words of yesteryear ring painfully in her ears.
In the end, she wonders if her brother’s high hopes of grandeur for her have shepherded her to her doom. Perhaps Oberyn Martell was wrong; perhaps she was made for the small, instead.
Posthumous Characters Picspam → Laena Velaryon
A fiery young maiden, freshly flowered, Lady Laena had inherited the beauty of a true Targaryen from her mother Rhaenys and a bold, adventurous spirit from her father the Sea Snake. As he had loved to sail, Laena loved to fly, and had claimed for her own no less a mount than mighty Vhagar, the oldest and largest of the Targaryen dragons since the passing of the Black Dread in 94 AC.
Q:can I ask what it is you think most people misunderstand about Lyanna? This isn't a loaded question or anything; I actually don't have many ideas about her myself. She's kind of a cipher to me, except in the story about her defending Howland Reed.
Ned compares her to Arya and does call her “willful” but she was still only a 16-year old fairly sheltered highborn girl. Every world has rules, and GRRM’s world of Westeros is no exception. She would still have certain expectations put upon her and a long-established structure of traditions to contend with.
My problem is that most people on this site tend to ignore this. Portrayals tend to be melodramatic—favoring anachronistic soap opera-like scenes between Starks instead of you know, more medieval-based realities. To that end, there is only so much she could have done to defy her family and/or her father. Even 30-something yr old, as much agency as a woman in Westeros can have, Queen Cersei Lannister would never publicly do things to call into question House Lannister or Tywin himself.
Yet I’m supposed to believe that 16 yr old Lyanna from a staunchly traditional Great House is going to call out her father or brothers or make demands or otherwise behave in a way that would dishonor her house? It doesn’t fit within what GRRM has established as the norm, even if you do believe she was the Knight of the Laughing Tree. (Also if she was the mystery knight, defending Howland Reed is not an act of defiance. It fits with Stark ideas of honor and taking care of their own bannermen.)
Related sidenote: I also hate, hate, HATE portrayals of Lyanna and Elia as best friendsies. The Lyanna/Rhaeger OTP while Elia just smiles and is cool with it is gross on like three different levels that I can think of offhandedly and is just a disservice to both females in the picture.
Characters: Aelinor Targaryen, Maekar Targaryen, Aerys I Targaryen, Rhae Targaryen, Daella Targaryen
Summary: After the Great Spring Sickness, changes were made. A king chose his Hand. A prince chose his pride. And that came at a price for everyone involved.