#aforgottenpride

[sesikudadaryti]

@aforgottenpride liked for a starter!

"I had a bad dream again." Living on Dragonstone was different than in King's Landing. The sounds were different and it made it hard for the young girl to sleep.

[bcbliophile]

@aforgottenpride Moved from X

Happily she leaned into the kiss, when they parted she breathed "I love you too, so very much, Matthias" she did in fact love him more than she loved waffles, a high honor when it came to Nina. She melted into him as he wrapped his arms around her, she would spend the rest of her days like this if she had her way, in the arms of the man she loves with her whole person.

"Good-- I would be a terrible Fjerdan wife, but I think I will be quite good at being your wife" she grinned when she pulled back, eyes still filled with tears she held out her hand, wanting him to put her ring on her now. "I'm wonderful" Nina never expected to fall in love with him when they first met and when they were reunited she had even less hope. But despite everything they had come back together and now they could work towards their happily ever after.

[shireentheunburnt]

Two Baratheon Princesses

This was home, and not home. That was the first thought that crossed the child’s mind as she looked about herself. She had been, but seconds ago, at Winterfell with her mother; and now she was back here. Dragonstone. What had happened? How had she gotten here? This place should be far out of reach and deserted...

Holding her stag, precious to her and very beloved, to her middle and petting soothingly over the little charred head of it as though she could offer it true comfort... Taking a few steps down the achingly familiar corridors, Shireen took a breath and called out, “Hello, is anyone there?”

Perhaps, she had fallen ill? Been brought here while suffering a fever of some sort? Surely, if she kept searching, she would find her mother, or Ser Davos, or someone, and they would be able to explain things to her? She just had to keep going...

“Hello? Mother? Ser Davos? Where are you?”

@aforgottenpride

[ladyxredxwolf-a]

@aforgottenpride liked for a lyric starter from this call

Was it a form of torture that Ramsay had let her see her little brother, or was it him being nice? The latter was less likely, he didn’t know how to be nice. “I’ll be back for you in a bit my love.”  Ramsay had said before he left her alone with Rickon. She’d hugged him tightly, not wanting to ever let him go again. There was so much she wanted to say, but the only thing she could think of to say that might give him some comfort was probably not the most comforting at all. “ Mother cannot guide you.” She said gently as she held him. “Now you're on your own.” Pulling back she cupped his face and looked at him. “ Only me beside you Still, you're not alone.” She assured him. “No one is alone, truly, no one is alone.”

(No one is alone - Into the woods)

[tyrion-lanni-star-archived]

❝ I do share. I’m nice like that. ❞ - from Tommen

Tyrion smiled at Tommen. “Yes, you’re a very nice young boy,” he told him, nodding. “You’re a lot like your sister in that sense.” He wasn’t necessarily talking bad about Joffrey, but he certainly wasn’t saying anything good about him.

[honorcalls]

@aforgottenpride

Byrant felt as if he should give up, he had chased rumors to get to this island, but Byrant was not sure how true those rumors were. Perhaps someone had led him false, though weather that would be to protect the prince, the king,  or to put him in a more vulnerable position Byrant was not sure. Robb had sent him out looking for his brothers “I know they are not dead” he whispered before sending Byrant off in the night. Robb was dead, but still he would find Robb’s heir, if he still lived.

Byrant had been winding his way though the forest of Skagos for what seemed like days, he had not seen the entirety of the island, and there were others he would have to look on, no one knew where on Skagos Rickon might be, just that he was here, with his wolf, and a wildling woman if the rumors were to be believed.

He was about to give up for the night, make camp, go visit the near visage, ask around, when he heard rustling in the trees, spinning on his heels there was a spear to Byrant’s throat before he knew what as happening, he did not let himself think too long that it was a woman that held the spear to his throat, his eyes rested on the boy in front of him.

It was not the same boy Byrant had left when he left Winterfell, but there were similarities enough that Byrant was sure this was the boy he was looking for, and the giant wolf beside the boy snarling, gave it away. Finally, at last, he had found Rickon Stark,

“Rickon, your brother Robb sent me to find you, I will not harm you, you and your friend may take my Sword, but I am here to take you home. With you we can take Winterfell back, the Starks may rule the North again.” Byrant was not sure what he should say, what Rickon wanted or needed to hear. When Byrant had thought about bringing Rickon back home he had in his head the young boy he had known from his time in Winterfell, that young boy was long gone.

[archivedwench]

                𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐏𝐒 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐏𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 , rendering them numb and a delicate shade of rosy pink . her boiled leathers and steel armor were covered by the thick coat and furs , but no amount of layers were enough to keep the could from caressing her skin cold , leaving her arms trembling and peppered with gooseflesh . 

the maid of tarth is -- and will always be -- a stormland’s girl despite the quest that took her her to every corner of westeros . as such , she had not grown used to the northern chill . her teeth chattered with every puff of mist that leaved her lips , fingertips feeling more like ice underneath the worn - out gloves . brienne had heard rumors of a stark boy hiding in the north somewhere , seemingly survived the sacking done by the turncloak greyjoy . the rumors turned to speculation , which then turned to seed of doubts that had planted and taken root in the maid’s mind till she had decided to steer her course away from the riverlands and into the north . for weeks she had traveled on the mare , asking inn keeps or other travelers if they’ve heard of such a boy and for weeks she had heard the same answer : no . 

still , brienne is nothing but a stubborn maid even to her own self . she persisted , continuing to ride paying no heed to their warnings . and here she was , traversing through the endless sea of snow on her mare following a thin trail of grey smoke that had tainted the white sky with color . smoke can only mean fire , and if there was fire then there was people .

                “ hello . “ brienne greets as she approaches closer , removing her hood to seem more friendly .“ it’s a rather cold afternoon . may i share your fire ? “ 

for @aforgottenpride | rickon stark.

[satincrow]

(  starter for @aforgottenpride  )

Lord Baelish told him to keep to his chambers while he was away, yet the walls of his room began to feel like they were crowding in on him. He needed to leave, to get a breath of fresh hair, to stabilize himself.  Ever since the harrowing journey from Heart’s Home across the mountains of the moon and up to the Eyrie, Satin had been feeling less and less in control of his own life. He needed to get out and clear his head. 

The air outside was cold and sharp, but he sucked it gratefully into his lungs as he walked out into the courtyard. As he looked around, his eyes filled with white. White snow, white skies, even the castle was white. A blank slate. If Satin’s lastest experience with Lyn Corbray hadn’t completely leeched his hope from him, he would believe that this could be a new beginning. But he was too old for that kind of thinking. Guilt engulfed his heart as his mind repeated the familiar refrain, I should never have left Oldtown. Heart’s Home had been a nightmare and whatever Lord Baelish had in store for him next was like to be the same. 

A soft crunch of snow behind him alerted him he was not alone. He braced himself before turning around, afraid it was Lady Lysa, but instead found himself staring into the piercing blue green eyes of a boy his own age. It had begun to snow again, just a few flurries, but they were curling in the boys’ auburn hair and Satin found himself smiling in spite of his dark mood. 

“I’m sorry? I... are you?” He trailed off, he didn’t want to assume anything. He knew that Lady Lysa had a son but he had thought he was much younger. “I’m Satin, from Oldtown... I work for Lord Baelish,” he finished, flustered.