05 Jul 2020
"Oh, maybe you were free,/Before my blackened wing covered you,/I took the sing from your song/I made a bed,/Where you don't belong." - Ben Howard
“You are the Knight of the Laughing Tree. You disguised yourself as a man and entered the lists?” His tone is caught somewhere between skepticism and… wonder?
“Yes,” she nods in a clipped fashion.
His brow furrows. “Lady Eddara, why?”
“To avenge the honor of a friend,” she replies, and it is almost too easy to slip into the role. To… well, to pretend she were like Lyanna. That she did such wild things without hesitation. That she was so ironclad in her convictions. That she… that she still had dreams. It is alarmingly easy, to pretend.
(Hastily attempting to hide the evidence of her sister's brief time as the Knight of the Laughing Tree, Eddara Stark is discovered by Rhaegar. In an effort to spare Lyanna from Aerys' wroth, Edda claims the shield and armor as her own, and the next day, unwillingly claims a crown of winter roses as well.)
Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
05 Jul 2020
"O, isn't this what my mother never wanted?" - Analicia Sotelo
Tom Riddle was not the only strange child to come out of Wool's. After eleven years of self-imposed exile, Amy Benson returns to Hogwarts to protect the only thing that matters: her precocious daughter, Mae. Offered the position of Potions Master, her alma mater seems like the safest place to keep Mae away from the darker elements of their world. But the wizarding world of 1957 is not the one Amy remembers, and while the threat of war may be over, she quickly discovers that peace in magical Britain is far from assured. As a radical new faction led by a charismatic Tom Gaunt rises to power in the Ministry, and a rapidly expanding Hogwarts braces for a post-war generation determined to leave its mark, Amy and Mae find that the secrets they keep for and from one another may be their undoing.
- Part 2 of Barbed Wire, Grass Crown
03 Jul 2020
"I dance in dangerous fables, walk a woods with trees white as bone. It's always winter and I'm always pressing my face against something warm with blood." - Yasmin Belkhyr, 'Blizzard'.
“Men die,” Barbrey tells her, bone-white with anger, eyes flashing. “Men die, Donella. Should Stark’s boy not sire a son on you, and if the Bastard has the Dreadfort-,”
“You speak as if Robb Stark were in fragile health,” Nell rolls her eyes. “You’re being paranoid.”
“Willam was in excellent health until he rode off to his death at Ned Stark’s side,” Barbrey hisses. “Do you think he did not promise me we would have children and a long life together before he left? Do you think he did not promise to come back to me? You cannot know what the future might bring. My lord husband survived a war only to die in Dorne. Men and their promises are not your safety nor your refuge. Land is. Power is. Never forget that.”
(In which Nell Bolton contends with both her mother's bloodstained legacy and her father's bloodthirsty bastard, and along the way claims a beast for a bridegroom.)
28 Jun 2020
"All our silence could not excuse/Disappoint or further prove/Anything other than what we already know." - MS MR
“Who did you promise?” she asks him, tearful with alarm and terror.
He gives an odd sort of little half smile, then rasps, “Lyanna. I always kept my promises. She would have been so angry with me… otherwise. I had to help her. It was the only way.”
“What was the only way?” Catelyn feels cold sweat dripping down her back, feels slightly feverish herself. “What do you mean, Ned? Did Lyanna ask you to do something?”
“Keep him away… from Robert,” he whispers. “To protect him.”
(Mortally wounded during the Greyjoy Rebellion, a delirious Ned makes a deathbed confession to Catelyn, leaving her to pick up the pieces of both her life and Jon Snow's.)
28 May 2020
"Mother said at birth, 'Boy, you better only take what you can hold.'/So I stood there in the sun, only minutes young/With love and mercy all around/And that's where we began." - Cotton Jones
Sansa looks like a princess from a story; Tommen just gapes at the sight of her. Her ivory gown seems to glow through the light of those crystal windows he always found so pretty, and she’s wearing a grown woman’s skirts and bodice, not a little girl’s. Suddenly he feels even more a baby, cheeks stained apple red, averting his gaze in near shame until Mother jerks sharply on his arm and forces him to look back up again, at the waiting crowd filling the pews of the sept. The only thing that makes him feel any better is that her cloak seems just as big on her as his does on him. As though they were just playing a game. Cella and him used to dress up and play games, although they never pretended to be husband and wife. But maybe if he can pretend it is not real, and just a fancy, he will feel better. He tries to smile at Sansa; she looks as though she’s been crying, although her face is dry now. She smiles briefly back, before it vanishes at once when she meets Mother’s eyes.
(In which Sansa is wed to Tommen, not Tyrion).