#arya x reader

[novaursa]

Request: Arya Stark x Male OC Lannister bastard

Arya befriends Tyrion’s bastard son in King’s Landing and even practices waterdancing with her. They are extremely close, which confuses Arya and her feelings. He knows how corrupt his family is and helps hide Arya from Lannister soldiers and is with her when Ned is executed. He helps Arya leave with Yoren and vows to meet again. They share a farewell kiss and go their separate ways.

Needle and Claw

- Summary: A story where a lion sets a wolf girl free.

- Pairing: lannister!male!reader/Arya Stark

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @oxymakestheworldgoround @idenyimimdenial @literaturedog

The Red Keep was a twisted maze of stone and shadow, corridors echoing with whispers and secrets, and yet you knew every crevice of it like the lines on your palms. Growing up within its walls was a strange kind of curse—bastard-born of Tyrion Lannister, with your mother long dead and your father more of a myth than a man. You were the lion’s shame, the child he only acknowledged in wine-soaked mutterings and the occasional sharp coin tossed your way to silence your existence. But you had quick feet, quicker hands, and a mind that saw more than it ever let on. You weren’t golden-haired or smug like the rest of the Lannisters; your features were a mix of Lannisport softness and something sharper, wilder—your mother’s legacy, no doubt. The guards had stopped chasing you after you climbed Maegor’s Holdfast with nothing but a rope and a dare.

It was in the training yard, during a bright morning that cut through the haze of smoke and forge-heat, that you first saw her. Arya Stark. All elbows and tangled brown hair, frowning at her wooden sword like it had betrayed her in some invisible slight. You’d heard of her, the wild wolf girl from the North, the one who didn’t curtsey, didn’t smile, didn’t care for needlework. That alone made you curious.

“You’re holding it too tight,” you told her as you passed, eyeing her grip with the kind of interest one might give a puzzle.

Her head snapped toward you, eyes narrowing. “What do you know about it?”

You tilted your head. “Enough to know your knuckles are white. You’ll tire your arm before the dance even begins.”

She looked at you for a beat, judging, then suddenly tossed her sword from one hand to the other. “Show me then, bastard.”

The insult rolled off you like water. Everyone called you that, some with disdain, some with amusement. She said it like a challenge, like a name she didn’t quite understand.

“I’m not the one who needs to impress Syrio Forel,” you said, stepping closer. “But I’ll show you.”

That was the beginning of it.

You became her shadow in those early weeks. When she crept down the corridors away from her Septa, you were already waiting. When she sneaked bread from the kitchens, you distracted the cooks with your lazy grin and silver tongue. But it was in the small, sunlit courtyard near the gardens that you truly came alive together. Syrio Forel, the former First Sword of Braavos, raised a brow when he saw you the first time, but he allowed it—perhaps amused, perhaps intrigued.

“You wish to dance too, lion cub?” he asked, circling Arya like a hawk. “Water dancing is not for brute strength. It is for those with eyes that see and feet that remember the wind.”

You grinned. “I see everything, Syrio. Even the way Arya’s left foot drags just slightly when she pivots.”

Arya made a sound of protest, but Syrio merely clapped his hands. “Then come, cub. Let us see if your tongue is as sharp as your eyes.”

From that day on, you danced too.

It was a strange, wordless rhythm you fell into. You and Arya would circle one another, wooden swords clacking like bones, bare feet sliding over the stone. She was fast and fierce, you were quick and calculating, and somewhere between feints and parries, between quiet gasps and the brush of shoulders, you forgot where one of you ended and the other began.

After practice, the two of you would lie on your backs staring up at the sky, chests heaving, sweat on your brows.

“I hate it here,” she said one day, voice muffled by the grass.

“I know.”

“Do you?”

You turned your head toward her. Her eyes were stormy, always stormy, like they held the cold winds of the North no matter the heat. “I grew up in this place. My father barely looks at me, and my uncle wish I didn’t exist. I live in the walls, in the cracks. You can learn a lot from listening in the cracks.”

Arya frowned. “I’m sorry.”

“No need.” You shrugged. “But I know what it’s like. To feel…wrong. Like everyone else was handed a script, and you’re just improvising.”

Arya turned fully to you, her hair a wild halo. “That’s exactly what it feels like.”

You didn’t touch her. You hadn’t yet. But you watched the way her fingers flexed in the grass, like she was trying to root herself.

Some days, you’d spar until dusk, breathless and laughing, ignoring Syrio’s exaggerated sighs. Other days, you’d sit by the window in the Tower of the Hand, talking in hushed voices. She told you about Winterfell, about Jon and Nymeria and the cold. You told her about secret tunnels and Red Keep ghosts, about your mother’s lullabies and your father’s silence.

You didn’t know what to make of her, this girl with the fire of a sword in her spine and the eyes of a lone wolf. You weren’t sure when it changed—the way her voice started sticking in your chest, or how your gaze lingered a little too long on the bruise at her collarbone after a rough spar. She didn’t know what to make of you either. You were a Lannister, and not. You had golden blood but not golden pride. You made her laugh when no one else could.

One night, you stayed long after practice. Syrio had gone, leaving the two of you alone in the quiet.

“You’re not like the others,” she said suddenly, sitting with her knees pulled to her chest.

“Which others?”

“Your family. You don’t lie like them. You don’t look at people like you’re above them.”

You gave a crooked smile. “That’s because I’ve never been above anyone. Always below. Always watching.”

“I like that about you,” she said, so quietly you almost didn’t hear.

You blinked. Your heart did something strange—something fast and reckless.

She looked away, cheeks flushed. “I mean—I like training with you. You’re not awful.”

You didn’t call her out on it. You just nodded, letting the silence stretch like a thread between you. But when your fingers brushed as you reached for your swords, you didn’t move away.

And neither did she.

You’d known it was coming. You’d felt it in the bones of the Red Keep, in the silence that echoed louder than any footfall. Something in the air had turned foul, heavy, like a storm curling in on itself. The whispers carried it first—little birds chirping behind drapes, behind stone, behind the backs of kings and queens and fools. Your family was playing their game again, the same cruel chessboard of deceit and power they had always known. And this time, it was Arya's father who was the piece about to be removed.

You watched Arya from the shadows more often than not now, because her face had changed. She no longer scowled in that half-childish way; her mouth was taut, her gaze distant, always flicking toward the Tower of the Hand as if willing her father to step free. You didn’t have the heart to tell her that Ned Stark wasn’t coming back. You’d seen him. Your bastard blood and quiet tongue got you into places no trueborn lion ever dared to look. He was a broken man behind those bars, his honor used like a blade against his throat. Cersei wanted him silenced, Joffrey wanted him dead, and your father—Tyrion—had gone south on business, far from the jaws of it all.

So you stayed close to her.

The day they came for her, you were waiting.

You’d been in the armory hall, listening as the Lannister guards murmured to one another, then fanned out across the courtyard. Arya’s name was passed between them like a coin, carelessly. She was a loose end. And loose ends were always cut.

You slipped away before they could see you.

She was in the Great Hall corridor, her hand clenched tight around the hilt of Needle, eyes focused and ready. “They’re looking for me,” she said without surprise.

“I know.” You grabbed her wrist. “Come with me.”

She didn’t ask where. She never did. She trusted you in the way wolves trust their own kind, not in words, but in movement—silent, instinctive. You led her through servants’ passages, down into the cellars where damp clung to the stones and the smell of mildew thickened the air. You took her through a black door nearly lost to time, and into a hidden stair carved deep into the rock of Aegon’s Hill.

“This leads to the old catacombs,” you whispered. “No guards. No servants. No eyes.”

Arya followed, quiet as breath, though her heart pounded loud enough for both of you.

You emerged behind the Sept of Baelor, the roar of the crowd already thundering above. She turned to you, face pale and trembling. “They’re going to execute him.”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.

You stayed hidden among the masses, pressed between stone and shadow as Arya stood on her toes, peering through the crowd. You held her arm, in case she tried to run. You felt the tremor pass through her when Ned Stark was brought out, kneeling in the square, a hush descending over the gathered mob. You felt it again when he began to speak—confessing lies to save his daughters, to play the game just once. Arya’s grip on your forearm was iron.

And then the sword fell.

The crowd screamed.

Arya screamed.

You covered her mouth, wrapped your arms around her so tightly you were certain she’d break. But she didn’t. She bucked and fought and cursed you, but she didn’t break.

You held her long after the body stopped twitching, until the screams became murmurs and the heads turned away, like cattle tired of a show.

Her voice was hoarse when she finally spoke. “He was lying. He only said that to protect us.”

“I know,” you whispered.

She shook her head. “No. You don’t. You can’t—”

“I do,” you said, pulling her back so she could see your face. “Because I would do the same for you.”

That silenced her. She blinked up at you, eyes wide and rimmed with salt. Then she whispered, “What now?”

“Now,” came a voice from the shadows, rough and familiar, “we run.”

Yoren of the Night’s Watch stepped forward, his dark cloak blending with the walls. He’d been warned by you—told in hushed tones days before to be ready to take Arya with him when the time came. And now it had.

“She’s a boy now,” he growled. “‘Arry.’ Got hair like a rat’s nest and a mouth like a dockhand. No one’ll look twice.”

Arya looked to you again, her breath short. “You’re not coming?”

You swallowed hard. “I can’t. If I disappear, they’ll know. They’ll send hounds after us both. But you—they won’t expect a boy. Yoren can get you out.”

“I don’t want to go without you.”

“And I don’t want to let you go,” you said softly, brushing her hair from her face. “But you have to live, Arya. You have to survive. That’s what your father wanted.”

Her bottom lip quivered, but she nodded. Then she did something you didn’t expect—she leaned in.

The kiss was sudden, uncertain, but it stole the breath from your lungs. Her lips were cracked, rough, chapped with grief, and yet warm. Fierce. It lasted only a second before she pulled away, eyes burning, but it branded you all the same.

“I’ll come back for you,” she whispered.

You smiled, despite the ache in your chest. “I’ll be waiting, wolf girl.”

Yoren nodded to you, then to her, and just like that, they were gone—vanishing into the maze of alleys and shadows.

You stayed in the dark long after they left, heart pounding, the taste of her sorrow and salt still on your lips. The lion’s son and the wolf’s daughter. They would come for you if they knew. But you didn’t care.

You would see her again.

And gods help the world when you did.

[where-dreamers-go]

Could I have Eragon, Murtagh and Arya's reaction to their SO sneaking into their room in the middle of the night because they want to cuddle?

(A/N: Reader requires the cuddles!

Warnings: fluff

Word count: 417 words)

Quiet filled the night air as daytime creatures and peoples slept. All was well.

Tired and fast asleep, the leader of the Dragon Riders snuggled into the warmth of Saphira’s belly, comforted by familiarity. Eragon remained untouched by all the day’s tasks and worries, finally able to rest. Safe as could be under a wing.

Another body of warmth against his curled up form spooked him, eyes opening quickly.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

Heart thudding against his ribcage, Eragon exhaled.

“What are you doing?” He asked quietly, slowly returning to a sleepy haze with you so near. His dear love.

“The same thing you’re doing.” You replied and nestled yourself between his limbs. “Pleasant dreams.”

Eyelids drooping closed, Eragon kissed your head goodnight.

Nights indoors were nights cherished. Being inside, in shelter, meant safety from weather and unwanted visitors.

Murtagh’s bedroom door remained unlocked, luckily for you.

Sneaking into your significant other’s room sounded easy when shoes were left elsewhere. Closing the door quietly held a greater challenge when you were growing eager to snuggle in bed.

Yet, you did manage to close the bedroom door; much to your satisfaction.

Sounds of fabric alerted you of movement close by.

“Why didn’t you knock?” Murtagh murmured as he rolled over, watching you crawl underneath the blankets unbothered by his words.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” you whispered.

“How kind.” He chuckled.

Humming, contently, you pulled Murtagh closer to you, arm around his back. The familiar shape of him molding into your embrace eased any lingering worries of the day. It would be you two and a restful night’s sleep.

Listen, stealth was a skill required after much practice. Sleep was something you hoped to get enough of during the night. You had weighed your options for requiring both for what you wanted.

Slipping into your dear Arya’s bedroom kept you on your toes. Literally and figuratively. Surely she wouldn’t mind her partner walking in late at night.

“You’re stealth needs work,” her smirk could almost be heard in the dark. 

Your mouth opened to reply to her remark, but she continued.

“Regardless… What took you so long?”

“I was practicing my stealth. Obviously,” you said by the edge of her bed. “May I join you? Blankets hardly give a suitable embrace.”

“Very well.” Arya pulled back the bedcovers and welcomed you in. Her arms kept you as close as was comfortable for the pair of you.

Quiet filled the room once more and you were more than happier.

~~~

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Best wishes and happy reading.)

~~~~~

DreamerDragon Tags: 

Inheritance Cycle Tags: @shewhobreathesfire @emburbaguette

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[x-aefx]

Hi sweetie! So we have the exact same obsession with Arya and Ellie and you said they are kinda similar (and it is true lmao). What things do you think dating them would have in common? And the differences? I also can't stop thinking about having a relathinship with both, like a one shot crossover. Omg I'm going feral for this.

I LOVE THIS.

In all honesty this had me thinking for a bit.

♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪

DATING ARYA STARK/ELLIE WILLIAMS :

SIMILARITIES;

Both would make sure you know how to defend yourself.

Arya would teach you how to use a sword and a bow and arrow (any weapon really) watching you improve would make her heart swell with pride. She would tease you constantly during training but her priority would be to make sure your always protected.

Ellie would teach you how to shoot a gun, use a knife etc. Again, seeing your improvements would make her proud but she would express that with flirty remarks. Ellie would encourage you to practice by pretending she's someone unwanted and for you to try strike her, however neither she or Arya would ever try it on you.

Both are very protective of you. Will make this clear to anyone they think needs to know.

Family is very important to Arya and Ellie. Neither would rush or pressure you into meeting their family. However when you do agree to meet them, they'll go all out. Both will make sure everything is perfect! They'll give you any necessary warnings or advice. Will hold your hand reassuringly if they notice your nervous/stressed. Both would proudly show you off to everyone.

Neither are very lovey dovey in public HOWEVER both would throw out the occasional flirty remark.

In crowds or other settings that can be stressful/dangerous/overwhelming Arya would let you squeeze her hand as tight as you need without showing any bit of pain. She would whisper comforting things to you. If she thinks your uncomfortable or overwhelmed she will lead you away from everyone and reassure you everything is alright. She'll cup the sides of your face and comfort you.

Ellie LOVES to hold your hands. Her hand will be on the small of your back to guide you or simply to remind you your safe and that she's beside you. Hugs from behind. She'll creep up on you, wrap her hands around your waist and rest her chin on your shoulder, swaying you both slightly.

Arya's and Ellie's perfect date would be just the two of you together someplace out of sight from everyone else.

Ellie would either bring you to her home or an abandoned building (that is safe!) She'll probably have weed or alcohol with her. Music would be playing in the background, which she'll probably make you dance with her to. She'll joke around, shower you in compliments and since it's just the two of you, she'll be more affectionate. She'll shower you in kisses everywhere. She'll praise you and her compliments will turn to flirty and seductive remarks fast. I'm sure you have an idea as to what might happen after;)

Arya would bring you to a beautiful northern sight on horseback. At first things will be calm. You two will get into a deep but nice conversation. The atmosphere is light and free. Then Arya will waste no more time and show you how much she loves and appreciates you. She'll remind you of your worth and beauty. Very flirty and blunt.

Prayers go to whoever hurts you in the slightest because theses girls would quite literally kill for you. No matter who they are or what advantages they have, Arya and Ellie would easily show them the mistake they made.

DIFFERENCES:

The main differences between Arya and Ellie in my opinion is how the would react to things.

Arya;

Arya would waste no time in finding out the reason for your pain and dealing with it. She would do it unexpectedly and quietly. She wouldn't make it a scene or very public unless it's something serious and she's real pissed off, them she'll go off.

When that's dealt with she'll go straight to you. She won't mention what she did as her only focus at that moment will be you. She'll hold you and comfort you. She'll let you cry in her arms and listen to your sobs and mumbling. Arya will continually remind you of how strong you are and how much your are worth. Won't leave you until she knows your alright.

Ellie;

Ellie would go to you first to make sure what she was hearing was true. Once she sees your pain she will be filled with rage and anger. She'll go straight away to deal with the problem but upon hearing your protests, her anger will disappear and immediately she's by your side pulling you into her arms. Ellie will rub up and down your arms to soothe you, she'll kiss your shoulders and neck, along your jaw and all over your face.

She'll remind you of your worth and how much you mean to her. When you calm down she'll make sure you've eaten and gently get you into bed. Whilst your asleep that will be when she'll go deal with whatever made you hurt. She won't care about making a scene, only that the problem is dealt with it.

°°°°°°

I wrote this at 2am so my apologies for any mistakes.

[mellaga-karagani]

Do aarya from aarya 2 pleaseee

I love this man sm but he lowkey gives me the creeps

Arya《Aarya 2》Romantic Dialogue Set

Requests are open, and my asks and inbox are always open!

"Obsession? No, my dear. All that my heart holds for you is love and I'd want nothing more than for us to be together. See? Love, not obsession."

"I'll constantly follow your path like a faithful dog, hoping that you'll one day notice the footprints beside yours."

"I'm willing to carve our initials on every part of my body if that's what will take for me to show you my love and devotion."

"My world revolves around you, and I can't help but think of you all day long as I plan our wedding."

"It's all the tiny little things that you do that make fall harder and helplessly in love with you."

☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆

Note: Requests are open, I write mostly for telugu characters, but I also accept general Indian!!

Taglist: @allari-ammayi , @vellipo-mellaga , @vijayasena

[theship-thewalrus]

Hello! I heard you were doing matchups!!! I was wondering if I could get a Merlin, lotr and game of thrones matchup? I’m 20, she/her pronouns and bisexual. For personality I’m creative, introverted, structured, and individualistic. Though I’m introverted, around my friends I can be quite talkative, humorous and outgoing. Though I do get snappy if I’m forced to socialize. I love and treasure my alone time in the bat cave of my room the most. I’m currently in art school working with technology mediums. I love my practice and everything from digital illustration to creative coding. Once I get in the zone, there’s no stopping me on an art or design idea. As for hobbies, i love escaping to new worlds while reading books and comics, watching movies, and playing video games. My favorite genres are fantasy and sci-fi. I have a tendency to read novels and watch their adaptations at the same time analyzing the differences. These stories are definitely inspirations of my art as well. Apart from that, I do love working out, kickboxing and weight lifting. Thank You!

Hi Dan! For Merlin, I match you with ... Merlin !!

𓍊𓋼𓍊┊Merlin doesn't mind that you are talkative, the man can talk a lot too. Often the pair of you are seen walking around, your laughter bouncing off the walls. The pair of you may get scolded a bit, but to spend more time together you both tend to help the other with their duties.

𓍊𓋼𓍊┊Merlin never forces you to socialize but he hopes that you try and get to know his friends a little better. If he notices you getting snappy at social gatherings he will try his best to calm you. Maybe even try and take you to a more secluded area.

𓍊𓋼𓍊┊He understands that you need your space, of course giving it to you when needed. Sometimes he gets like that two and all the pair of you can do is wait for the other.

𓍊𓋼𓍊┊He loves watching your pain, taking note of each stroke of the brush. Finding it fascinating when you slip into the zone. Sometimes he will sit there and read his spell book while you paint. Slipping enjoying each other's company.

𓍊𓋼𓍊 Tropes 𓍊𓋼𓍊

tired but in love x energetic and in love warlock x maid mutual pinning

For Lord of the Rings, I ship you with ... Aragorn !!

𓍊𓋼𓍊┊Aragorn likes your more introverted nature, the man is not really a people person himself. Thus there is no need to worry he will force you into social situations. But when you both are stuck with people he tries to help you a little, calming you.

𓍊𓋼𓍊┊Both of you would often train together, sparring, sword fighting, and shooting. Often trying to better one another and pushing each other to the limit. Both of you feeding off each other's drive.

𓍊𓋼𓍊┊He loves that you joke and talk a lot, the man simply listening. At times he is not much of a talker, thus it's good that you take up that role. Often laughing at your jokes as he tends to the fire.

𓍊𓋼𓍊Tropes 𓍊𓋼𓍊

stoic x talkative book smart x street smart tall x smol

For Game of Thrones, I ship you with ... Arya !!

𓍊𓋼𓍊┊Arya never forces you to socialize, she does not enjoy social events all that much either. She will never force you into social interactions, maybe even using you as a reason not to go to places. Yet, she expects you to meet and gets along with her family, it's something that is very important to her.

𓍊𓋼𓍊┊Both of you would often train together, sparring, sword fighting, and shooting. Often trying to better one another and pushing each other to the limit. Both of you feeding off each other's drive. There may have been a couple of times when she has knicked you with the top of her sword.

𓍊𓋼𓍊┊She loves it when you snap at people, watching on with a smug expression. If the person you are snapping at gets a bit aggressive, she will step up and protect you. Not allowing them to disrespect you in any capacity.

𓍊𓋼𓍊Tropes 𓍊𓋼𓍊

stoic x talkative training buddies

[inyourfantasyfanfics]

Arya Stark x Fem!Reader

"Breath of Fresh Air"

*SPOILERS FOR SEASON 8*

It was no easy task for Arya to leave Winterfell after she had just defeated the Night King. Many eyes were on her, after she trained so long to disappear it was slightly unsettling for so many people to seek her out. 

She gathered what she would need to survive trying to kill Cersei and spotted Sandor setting his saddle on a horse, 

'maybe the road won't be so bad with some unexpected company' the fiery girl thought to herself. 

But as Arya had spotted an old friend so had y/n and she was more than a bit saddened to see the woman she admired for so long, packing and ready to leave.

"Arya?" Y/n said quietly as if she was going to startle her long time friend. Arya's gaze fell upon y/n and for a moment she let herself feel a little bit of remorse for wanting to leave. 

"You want to leave don't you?" Y/n said with a bit more confidence trying not to let her voice give away her worry, yet her voice still failed her and she sounded a little more weak than she wanted to. 

"I'm going to kill Cersei, you know I have to." Arya stated more than said. Y/n nodded, she knew how much her friend had changed since she left for Kings landing so many years ago. So had she, y/n studied medicine becoming a makeshift nurse in the north, she had seen her share of blood throughout the years but probably not as much as her companion that stood before her. She thought for a moment before letting the next few words slip from her mouth...

"I know you do. That's why I will want to go with you." Arya paused for a moment considering it, but a wave of everything that could ever go wrong washed over her. 

She knew y/n was by no means weak, when they were children her and y/n would sword fight in the woods with sticks. Arya accidentally hit y/n square in the mouth knocking out a baby tooth. Much to Arya's worried crys y/n couldn't control her laughter even when she was bleeding from the mouth. Oh how they both got in a good deal of trouble that day..

Turning away slightly from y/n, Arya faintly smiled at the childhood memory. Her smile quickly faded and became somber. "You know I can't let you do that. I may never even come back.." Arya trailed off.

Y/n expected this answer and nodded. She had anticipated this but it secretly wouldn't really stop her. Both girls turned to each other and a familiar feeling washed over them. 

Y/n knew it was looked down upon to love another woman, many suspected she was one for the same gender due to her refusal of all men who have tried to court her in the past. She knew that she had been in love with Arya and the feeling grew once they were reunited. Contrary to y/n, Arya didn't know what to make of this feeling. It wasn't by any means what she felt for Gendry, her small crush. It was much stronger. In her Younger years she thought she was just jealous of y/n, now she was just left confused. 

Y/n moved forward and cautiously wrapped her arms above Arya's strong shoulders and lightly rested her cheek on Aryas. With a deep breath Arya wrapped her sore and aching arms from the fight only days earlier, around her confusing childhood friend.

Y/n pulled away as she felt her eyes start to burn with tears. Quickly she turned to the door and paused at the frame to utter a "Be safe, please." Y/n felt her heart ache and her stomach churning as she walked away.

The night after Arya left Y/n snuck a horse out of Winterfell and set course for Kings Landing. Y/n knew deep down she just had to follow after Arya or she may regret it for the rest of her days.  

It was a harsh ride but once y/n got to Kings Landing the gates were closed she mentally cursed heavier than the men of the night's watch. She saw the dragon and heard the faint yells of confused men and women on the other side of the wall. soon enough she didn't feel so horrible as the bells rang

this could mean peace, Arya wouldn't have to risk her life if she already hadn't, the thought gave y/n a little bit of hope but the feeling soon died where it arose and only got worse as Denarys’s dragon roared and blasts of fire erupted over the wall, the girl turned her horse and rode from the wall till she made her way onto a small hill to get a better feel for what could possibly be happening and to get a sense of the new danger that may be arising.

What felt like hours y/n could only see the city crumble with fire from a distance. Smaller spots erupted with green flames. She felt her mouth dry and her eyes stung once she blinked; she had been staring for long enough for it to hurt. Her body felt numb as she clamered off her horse.. she could only hear screams, horrific screams of children calling out for their mothers and vise versa, the pained screams of men being stabbed, slashed and possibly much worse. innocence being burned alive was apparent through the stench and horrific screams. This is what filled y/n's senses, slowly but frantically the gates were thrown open and the people of King's Landing poured out, but they were only small amounts of people compared to the vast population of King's Landing. Y/n's legs started moving without her fully acknowledging it, she rushed into the crowd of bloody, burned and dirt covered crowds. As more filed out of the gates. She rushed to many people's aid, y/n carried basic medical supplies with her from the trip to Kings Landing. But despite her efforts she saw many die as she searched for something, anything that could possibly help.

Sweaty, clothes covered in blood and out of breath, y/n stood and slowly walked towards the quieting city gates she saw northern soldiers and Dothraki exit the city looking just as bad as the citizens who survived. They lined themselves a ways out of the city. Y/n's heart pounded and hurt as her eyes frantically searched for Arya, but had no avail.  

Arya who had just seen the worst of it all, slowly rode out of the city on a surviving horse her lungs burned and eyes were fogged and dirt and blood covered her whole body, she was aching and in massive pain, suffering from many head traumas, but somehow she lived. And this was something she had never expected. Although she didn't get to kill Cersei herself she knew that the so called queen could have never survived the fall of Kings Landing. So she made her way out of the city.

Still outside of the walls Y/n was gaining more anxiety by the minute as her eyes locked with Jon's, concern grown in both of their faces, they made there way to each other

'What are you doing here??'

'Where is Arya??'

Both of them said simultaneously

"Arya is here?" Jon said with more worry in his voice than before. Y/n's stomach dropped, her chest heaved as she ran a shaky hand through her disheveled hair, and looked around catching glimpse of a figure covered in greyish white ash. Without completely thinking she ran towards them leaving a more than worried Jon behind her

"Arya!" Y/n called rather breathlessly as the stress of laboring hours took a toll on her. Hearing her name being called through the ringing of Arya's ears she looked to the source and a welling of to many emotions spilled over once her eyes locked on to Y/ns distressed figure running to her in the distance, and she stumbled off of her horse trying to run yet limping at the same time suddenly everything made sense to her, she loved y/n she felt nothing but breathtaking relief, pain, grief and...love.

The two met practically falling into each other on contact. Both landing their knees y/n broke down and let her tears that had been held back for so long fall, Arya breathing so heavily was desperately holding onto the girl she loved for so long like she would somehow disappear. After everything holding on to y/n was like, a much desired and needed.. Spark? Fire? She couldn't think of the right words for the experience but she didn't care.

The weeks that followed the two didn't really need to say that they loved each other. both knew exactly how each other felt the moment they embraced outside Kings Landing. Y/n knew once Arya said she wanted to sail west that there would be no debating on whether she would stay behind. Arya didn't try to either, both were inseparable.

On the ship ready to set sail Arya looked to Y/n who was looking out at sea next to her. 

"Don't stare too hard you might knock me off the boat" y/n said jokingly with a small chuckle looking back at Arya who then smiled a genuine smile, leaning in their lips connected. It didn't feel like fireworks or anything super extravagant but no less important, as they kissed Arya finally found the words to describe the feeling she had after Kings Landing, y/n was like...

A breath of fresh air.

[merakiaes]

Come Back To Me - Sandor Clegane

Pairing: Sandor Clegane x Stark!reader

Requested: Pretty sure by like 40 people in my inbox, but I wanted to write it myself as well. It probably sucks, because I’m a mess, but I’m going to write maaany more to give him a better ending

Warnings/notes: Spoilers

Wordcount: 2840

Summary: An alternate ending for Sandor Clegane because I’m dead inside. 

“Come back to me.” You had pleaded to Sandor Clegane years ago when he had been readying himself for the Battle of the Blackwater, having sneaked into his chambers to see him before you would be whisked away by Cersei.

He had looked at you, brows furrowed and scowl resting on his face as he had still been his usual angry self back then. But you had seen the flicker of emotion in his eyes as they scanned over your worried face. 

He had marched over to you the second he had put on his last piece of armor, grabbing you by the head and leaning down to press a kiss to your soft forehead. 

His hand was about the same size as your head, completely swallowing the side of it as he put it against your cheek, letting a rough thumb run over the wet skin. 

You had looked up at him, still as innocent as ever back then, eyes terrified as the war going on outside your window rocked the floor. 

He had looked down at you, taking in every little detail of your face so that he would remember what he was fighting for, being silent for a minute before finally answering. “I’ll always come back for you, Little Bird.” 

True to his word, the Hound had come back for his Little Bird in the middle of the battle, and wasted no time in getting you out of there, leaving Sansa behind in the claws of Cersei. 

You had been separated many times, but he had not once broken his promise. Every time you had been separated, he had never stopped looking for you. 

And he always found his way back to you. 

You had fought side by side in the war against the Night King, you having picked up quite the skill with swords over the past years, and you had won. 

He was still a very grumpy man, like he always had been and probably always would, but anyone could see the look of endearment on his face when he looked at you. 

It was a shocking sight to see, to say the least. But even the people who had before everything hated him with their every bone, couldn’t help but feel warm at the sight. 

The only people he cared about in this world were  you and your two sisters, you the most. He would die for you in a heartbeat, give his life and soul just so that you could live. 

But there was one thing he cared more about, and you had given your all during the time of your relationship to see that you came out on top. 

But as it seemed, there was nothing that would change his mind about getting revenge on his brother. 

And it hurt. 

It broke your heart. 

In any other situation, you would have understood. Because he would always come back to you. 

But this time was different. Unlike everyone else, you saw the Dragon Queen for what she was: mad. 

You were sure she had been a fair ruler once upon a time, that she had reigned justly over the sea. But she had lost everything by this point; she was alone. And there was no thing more dangerous than a Targaryen alone in the world. 

You understood why she had become what she was. You truly did. But it didn’t change the fact that she would be the destruction of King’s Landing, and everyone who dared step a foot in it. 

And it was this little detail that broke you. Not the fact that Sandor wanted revenge on his brother, but the fact that he had just up and left when you had been sleeping, knowing fully well he wasn’t going to survive. 

When waking up to see his side of the bed empty and cold, your heart had dropped and your breathing gotten shallow, but you had wasted no time in getting dressed and saddling a horse despite your trembling hands. 

Your whole body was shaking as you rode, partly because of the cold that came with your bad choice of clothing and the wind pulling at your hair and furs as you sped down the road, but most of all the fear that you wouldn’t be able to catch up to him. 

You were a heavy sleeper, you always had been. So you couldn’t know how long he had been gone. 

After everything you had been through, he just up and left. No explanation. No goodbye. Nothing. 

But you couldn’t even think of that. All you could think of was the panic burning through your whole body and sending you into a fit of trembling and shaking that there seemed to be no stopping. 

But as you then caught sight of the lone horse in the distance, the big, stupid man you had come to love and hate sitting in the saddle, drinking his wine like he hadn’t just left you behind, you found a big part of the panic you had only moments before been consumed with turning into anger. 

You called for your horse to speed up, whipping the reins and standing up in the stirrups for the sake of your tailbone. 

Sandor froze in his saddle for a second as the sound of the clapping hooves finally reached his ears, and he found himself not daring to turn around as he knew who it was. 

You were out of bed earlier than you usually were, of course you would choose this particular day to wake up early. 

He had left you alone in bed with a heavy heart because he had, despite being a murderer his whole life, found himself to be too much of a coward to actually say goodbye. 

Because he knew you would try to get him to stay, and he didn’t want to see the look on your face when you would realize he wouldn’t. 

You reached him in no time, steering your horse to come to a stop in front of him, forcing the horse of his own to stop, as well. 

“Shit.” He cursed under his breath as the horse came to a halt, feeling your heavy stare burning into his face even though he wasn’t looking at you. 

“Yes, shit is right.” You answered, voice shaking slightly, but still holding a cold edge to it. 

You looked at him, adjusting the reins in your grip as the horse shifted under you, swallowing the tears when you noticed he wouldn’t even look at you. 

“Where are you going?” You asked him, and watched as he closed his eyes in regret. 

“King’s Landing.” 

“No.” You protested. “I mean, where are you going?”

You knew where he was going, of course. But you wanted to hear it. You wanted to hear what great explanation he had for leaving years worth of struggles and love behind just to get revenge on someone who probably didn’t even remember what he had done to him. 

Even though you knew there would be no explanation, seeing as he never had one. It just was. He just needed to do it, he said every time. This wasn’t the first time he had tried to run away like this.

He finally looked up at you. “I’m going to go kill that big fucker." He snapped, eyes hard. “There, are you happy now?”

Your eyes softened, a sorrowful look taking over your features. “No, not really...” You whispered slowly, chewing on the inside of your bottom lip. 

Sandor opened his mouth, face falling but you spoke first. “Are you really going to throw away all of the good things you’ve done, just for revenge?”

He scoffed. “I’m not good. I’ve never been good.” He told you with a hard tone, but you could see in his face he knew he was in the wrong. 

“Do you love me?” You asked him, ignoring his previous statement.

He glared. “You know I do.”

You nodded, and you could feel tears starting to build in the corners of your eyes. “You made me the person I am today. The person you claim to love. You saved me, in more ways than one, and you put yourself to the side to take care of me. If that doesn’t make you a good person, I don’t know what does.” 

“You’ve always been the person you are now.” He protested. “I didn’t do shit. I loved you as a little bird, just like I love you now.”

You yelled out. “Then stay! You can’t fix yourself by breaking someone else!”

“You know I can.” He scoffed. “I planned on killing him long before I met you. The fact that we met don’t change a thing.”

“And then what?” You asked. “You kill Gregor, you redeem yourself. Then you’ll be left with the fact that you left me behind to do so.”

His eyes flared up. “I have to do this! You know I do!”

“No!” You protested. “I only know that the best revenge is to have enough self-worth not to seek it! All the shit someone puts you through, sooner or later finds its way back to them. You no longer belong to him and that is his greatest punishment!”

You paused, finding yourself losing your voice again after the words had spilled from your mouth. 

Sandor watched as your eyes glazed over, turning in and out of focus as you started at the ground, and he noticed how you squeezed your hands like you always did when trying not to cry, the leather of your gloves rubbing against the reins with a croaking sound. 

“You promised me you would always come back to me.” You whispered then, voice barely noticeable. But it was enough to pull Sandor out of his thoughts. 

He turned his eyes back from your hands to your face, half expecting you to be looking at him, but found you with your gaze still glued to the gravel under his horse’s hooves. 

He looked at you, not knowing what to say as his heart sank further and further into his chest. 

As if feeling his eyes on you, you looked up, meeting his gaze before he could look away, drawing him in. “If you go to King’s Landing you’ll die.” You continued. “You’d break your promise. Would it be worth it?” 

“You knew this would happen sooner or later.” Was the only thing he could get out and he had to keep himself from flinching at his own words.

He had expected you to scream at him when he had first heard you approaching. He wanted you to scream at him. But he realized in that moment that he had really underestimated the amount of care and love you held for him. 

He never would’ve thought someone would love him, especially not someone like you. But the look you were giving him in that very moment told him everything. 

And it had him feeling regret for the second time in his life, the first being the moment right before Gregor had pushed his face into the coals for playing with his toy. 

“Fine.” You spoke after a moment, clearing your throat as it had thickened to the point where you almost felt unable to breath. 

You nodded your head slowly, as if you were trying to convince yourself of your own thoughts. 

“It’s your choice. At least then I will know what’s more important, and I’ll know I lost someone who didn’t care. And you lost someone who did.” You continued. “But before you embark on your journey of revenge, be sure to dig two graves. Because you know just as well as I do that you’re not coming back to me this time.”

And with that you felt the first tear finally tumble over your waterline, rolling down your cheek. 

You didn’t want Sandor to see you cry and stay just out of pity. You wanted him to stay because he chose to, and as of this moment, it didn’t seem like you would be the one he would choose. 

So you pulled on the reins without sparing him another look, turned the horse around and left him behind. 

He stared at the ground until the sound of hooves could no longer be heard, only then kicking his horse to keep walking, taking a long drink of wine to drown the heartbreak caused by the one he had caused you. 

The moment you were sure you were out of hearing range, you couldn’t keep the tears at bay any longer, the salty drops coming to wet your face in only a few seconds, having you full on sobbing in no time. 

Broken heart? No, no one knows how it feels. You had never in your life experienced a feeling like this before. 

It was like something was cutting through your chest, a heavy feeling repeatedly stabbing you with the sharp shards of your heart. 

The pain was flowing down to your abdomen through your veins, and your arm flew down to hold your stomach in an attempt to soothe the ache, but all it did was to make it worse. 

Your ribs felt like they were being broken, beaten in, taking away your ability to breath. 

Your eyes had gone far past crying by the time you rode through the gates of Winterfell; they were bleeding tears. 

Sansa and Brienne had spotted you at once, having been walking through the courtyard when you came back, and not once before had they seen you like this. You had more or less launched yourself off the horse and completely brushed past them, running to your chambers. 

It was the most painful thing you had ever felt. Your heart screamed for Sandor to hold you, your whole body yelled after the feeling of his rough fingers caressing your skin in the softest of ways. The way he always did; always touching you. 

You were still together. He was still yours, and you were still his. He hadn’t found someone else, he hadn’t called it quits with you. But this was worse. 

You saw Daenerys Targaryen. You saw her. She would burn that city to the ground if it was the last thing she did. And Sandor would die, because nothing would ever stop him from getting his revenge.

Not even if it meant he died in the process. 

He had promised you. And he went back on it. He broke it. He left you. You couldn’t do this alone. All this time, you had survived thanks to him. You had never been able to process war as well as the rest of your family, you didn’t want to live in a world like this. 

You couldn’t stand the death, the loss. The only thing keeping you from total self-destruction was him. 

Your heart was broken, more than broken. It felt like it was shattered into a million pieces, like someone had stomped mercilessly to death, shredded it to pieces, cut it up, and thrown it in the trash. Left to rot. 

But you couldn’t blame Sandor. You shouldn’t have been so stupid to think you could change something he had wanted his whole life, in just a few years. 

It wasn’t logical. You weren’t that powerful. 

You fell into your bed the moment the door closed behind you, not even bothering to remove your clothes, just pulling the furs over your head as you lied there and cried until you finally fell asleep. 

You didn’t know how long you had lied in bed for, but by the time you woke up it was dark outside. 

You didn’t move as your eyes opened, just blinking the dried tears and sleep out of your eyes as you stared out the window. 

Sansa had come to check on you once, but having found you asleep with dried tears covering your face, she had left you to rest. 

Your eyes ached and stung as you blinked, breathing slowly through your nose. You felt numb as you just laid there, hand tucked under you head while your other arm laid still on your side. 

And that’s when you felt it.  

That shiver you knew so well running down your spine at the feeling of the familiar, rough skin gently running over the back of your hand. 

Your eyes fluttered closed as a fresh set of tears immediately stung your eyes, and you took a shaky breath as the thumb continued to run over your skin, caressing it softly. 

“You came back.” You whispered, and only then did Sandor grab a hold of your hand fully, his warm one wrapping around your cold one, swallowing it whole. 

“I promised didn’t I?” He mumbled back, and at the sound of his voice, you didn’t waste another second before jumping into his arms, tears running down your face as you took in his scent and felt the tickle of his beard on your neck. 

He always found his way back to you. 

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[gameofthronesimaginesss-blog]

♡ Preferences #1: How the two of you meet [Female Version] ♡

                                     ♡ How the two of you meet ♡ 

Daenerys Targaryen: You first met the Dragon Queen in the city of Mereen, where you had recently been taken after you were stolen away by slavers from your home, the island of Naath. Your master treated you cruelly and beat you, and when Daenerys Stormborn and her Dothraki army took the city, he refused to bend the knee, blinded by his pride. The man died screaming, burnt alive and eaten by her dragons, Drogon, Rhaegal, and Viserion, who tore at his meat as if it were a mere snack. The Mother of Dragons was instantly drawn to you, unlike most people, you didn’t flinch or look away in fear when saw the dragons, nor when they roared louder than any warhorn and breathed fire and killed your former master and tore him apart. Instead, you found them beautiful, and magnificent. Daenerys Targaryen told you to take off your collar, and to live freely. You shall have no master, she said. Yet  she had saved you from a cruel and merciless fate, you owed your life to her. You vowed to serve her until your death, and the two of you quickly grew close. You soon became one of her closest advisors, and Mereen flourished as a prosperous and peaceful regime under your guidance.

Yara/Asha Greyjoy: You first met Yara/Asha Greyjoy in Volantis, where she and her brother Theon had stopped for food and rest, before sailing East to Slaver’s Bay, where Daenerys Targaryen ruled in the city of Mereen. She’d first noticed you in the crowded market, and was instantly drawn by your radiant beauty, which stood out from the cold, grey crowd. Whenever you’d walk by she’d wolf whistle and eye you up and down cheekily, just to make you flustered as you blushed and hurried off. You were slightly frightened and embarrassed at first, as you’d heard of the ironborn’s boldness, but you became slowly accustomed to her behaviour, and when the two of you finally began talking, you instantly hit it off, and Yara invited you to sail with her. You accepted, as you saw a chance for a more easy and peaceful life, instead of living off stale bread in the dangerous streets of Volantis, surrounded by thieves and brutes. The two of you became especially close when you and her crew sailed out on her Black Witch, where she jokingly taught you how to steer her ship, standing behind you and guiding your hands on the steering wheel, as the wind of the salty sea blew in your hair, which still remained one of your best memories for the both of you.

Sansa Stark: You first met Sansa Stark in King’s Landing, when you, the youngest Tyrell, travelled with your grandmother Olenna Tyrell, your father Mace Tyrell, your sister Margaery, and your brother, Loras, the Knight of Flowers. Your sister was to marry the King, and the whole way to King’s Landing she’d been ecstatic, already thinking about a dream wedding, whereas you and Loras sulked, dreading stepping foot in the Capital. When you’d finally gotten there, and your sister professed her love for King Joffrey, your eyes fell on his betrothed, Sansa Stark of Winterfell. You instantly felt sympathy for her, her face fell from her usual pretty smile, and she looked as if she were about to cry, lost and confused. When the King called off her proposal, and instead promised to marry the Rose of Highgarden, she practically ran off, tears threatening to fall from her eyes, when you ran after her. When you’d caught up to her as she was on her way to her chambers, you comforted her and reminded her of the cruelties Joffrey committed, and how she wouldn’t be a victim of his evil games, after all, Sansa knew that Joffrey was a monster. She began to feel better, and by the end of the evening she was laughing wildly, which she hadn’t done in months. Since that day, you became one of her only true friends in King’s Landing, and the both of you stayed by each other’s side.

Arya Stark: You met Arya Stark, when you, the daughter of Lord Umber, was staying in Winterfell since your father was Lord Eddard Stark’s bannerman. You were training with Robb in the yard, where many of the Stark children, including Arya, had circled around to watch. The young she-wolf was instantly drawn to you, since you were one of the few people she had ever seen handling a blade so well for your age, and even beat Robb Stark, the Young Wolf, and the heir to Winterfell in combat. The two of you became close when you’d rounded an unknown corner one day, only to find Arya training with a dummy, with a small, thin sword in hand - Needle. When she finally took notice of your presence, she gasped and blushed red, embarrassed to have been seen with a sword, only for you to smile warmly, and correct the way she was holding the blade, before turning on your heel and walking away. Since then, Arya had undoubtedly fallen head over heels for you.

Ellaria Sand: You first met Ellaria Sand when she and Oberyn Martell had travelled to King’s Landing for your nephew’s marriage, in which he was to wed Margaery Tyrell. You were the middle child of Tywin and Joanna Lannister, and had refused to leave Tyrion alone to face Oberyn Martell, who was known for his hate of Lannisters. You’d entered Littlefinger’s brothel, and of course found the Red Viper himself, and his paramour Ellaria there, surrounded by half a dozen of Littlefinger’s finest whores. You weren’t surprised of this, Oberyn and his paramour were known for their vast sexual appetites, yet what did surprise you was the way Ellaria kept staring at you, instead of Tyrion, or the heavily armed City Watchmen that surrounded them. Her eyes were transfixed on you, as if hypnotised, before she leaned into Oberyn’s ear and whispered something, before they both chuckled and look back at you. Tyrion sighed. “I would appreciate it if you and your lovely paramour would stop eye-fucking my dear sister/brother”. You flush immediately, and gape at Tyrion, while the two lovers laugh, Ellaria still gazing up at you.

Margaery Tyrell:  The two of you met when you and your family had been summoned to King Renly Baratheon’s tourney, during the War of the Five Kings. As your family was one of his allies, and your father his bannerman, it was only natural that you had to travel to Storm’s End, as much as you didn’t want to. The kingsroad was dangerous, and these were dark times. Despite this, you rode out with your family and guards, dreading the arrival. Storm’s end was named such for a reason. It was known for it’s stormy seas and cold nights. However all this changed when you entered Dragonstone, and were greeted by Renly Baratheon, and his new Queen, Margaery Tyrell. She was beautiful and kind, and instantly made you feel welcome as the two of you chatted amongst yourselves during the tourney. She too, was intrigued by your gentleness and intelligence, and dreaded the time when her husband would call her off to their chambers for the night, wishing she could stay and talk to you for as long as she could before you had to travel back to your ancestral home.

Brienne of Tarth: You first met Brienne of Tarth during the War of the Five Kings, when she’d returned to the North with Lady Catelyn Stark. You were the child of Rickard Karstark, and had the honour of fighting in the Vanguard, beside Robb Stark and his bannermen. While the bannermen were preparing to attack Jaime Lannister’s forces at Whispering Wood, the soldiers made campfires all around, and were having a pleasant time over food, wine and sharing various stories from all around Westeros. You were having a fairly good time, and noticed Brienne of Tarth standing alone, by herself next to Lady Catelyn’s tent. “My lady, I insist you join us, we have a fire going, and plenty of food and wine”. You said, smiling, yet her calm complexion remained the same. “I swore an oath that I would protect Lady Catelyn”. Brienne was a painfully honourable women, a trait many admired. “We’re not facing any danger, are we? Lady Catelyn has plenty o’ guards defending her should there be any threat. Come, you look hungry, and tired. Some food and the warmth of a fire would do you good”. You weren’t lying. She was clearly tired, and her eyes were slightly red, whether from exhaustion or tears you couldn’t tell. But you did know the death of the King she loved and swore an oath to protect was dead, and it was taking it’s toll. But wordlessly, she agreed and joined you around the fire. You’d filled her a cup of wine, when an obnoxious boy squealed, “Aah! Brienne the Beauty, how does m’lady fair?” He grinned a toothy grin, while the men around cackled out loud. You frowned. You knew that nickname. Brienne the Beauty. It was often used as mockery for the poor woman. And yes, it wasn’t as if Brienne was particularly alluring. Her hair was a nest the yellow colour of straw, her teeth prominent and crooked, her nose had clearly been broken more than once. But her eyes. Her eyes were large, and blue shade of the sea by day. Her beautiful eyes were innocent and pure. “Take a look at yourself, you fucking son of a pox-ridden ass”, you growled, glaring ferociously at him, before he and the other men got up and wandered off, not daring to argue against a child of Lord Karstark. A quiet, timid “Thank you”, arose from Brienne, “for standing up for me”. You smiled. Ever since then Brienne had a soft spot for you, and swore to protect you from any harm.

Ygritte: You first met the wildling girl during an expedition beyond the wall. Your hard work had payed off well, and you were picked as a ranger, and part of a small scouting group sent beyond the wall to search for Benjen Stark, the First Ranger.. When camped out at the Fist of the First Men, you had run into a dozen of wildlings. Jax, Emmet, Fornio and you were forced to kill nine of the wildlings, who refused to drop their weapons and attempted to attack you, but managed to capture three. One of whom was a quick-witted, bold redhead, who had teased you nonstop the entire time. By the time your brothers were asleep, you were still awake, listening to her voice, teasing you of your commitment to the Night’s Watch, joking that you couldn’t take a woman, reciting lines in a deep, gruff voice such as “I am the sword in the darkness”, or “I am the watcher on the walls for this night, and all nights to come”, before giggling at her own banter. As much as you tried to find her aggravating, she brought a ghost of a smile to your lips, and instead you found her amusing. Everyone had made out the free folk to be savages, and brutes, thieves and murderers, rapists and beasts, yet here was one of them, with you wrapped around their finger.

Cersei Lannister: The two of you first met in King’s Landing, where you travelled in stead of your father, Prince Doran Martell, to a grand tourney, in the name of the new ruler, King Tommen. As much as Cersei longed to hate a Martell, she couldn’t bring herself to do so. When Cersei watched you step out of the carriage in front of the Red Keep, she took note of your grace and beauty, but did not expect for you to be hand-in-hand with her daughter, Princess Myrcella. Cersei gaped, eyes open wide with shock as if she were a deer caught in the headlights, wondering if she was dreaming or if her daughter, the one she hadn’t seen in years, was standing there, a mere few metres away from her. Getting over her initial shock, she ran over and hugged Myrcella as if her life depend on it. “My sweet baby lioness”, she whispered, stroking Myrcella’s blonde Lannister locks. “It is an honour to meet you, your grace. I hope you are not angry with me for bringing Princess Myrcella, I thought the two you would want to see each other.”, a sultry voice called out. Cersei turned around and met with those wild Martell eyes. “Yes, thank you, Princess/Prince. I appreciate your kindness to reunite me and my daughter”. Cersei kept her cool complexion, yet beneath that cold exterior, her heart was pounding fiercely with longing. She was enchanted, and wished to get to know you better.

                             [Gifs aren’t mine - Credit to owners]