The queen wore a high-collared black silk gown, with a hundred dark red rubies sewn into her bodice, covering her from neck to bosom.
They were cut in the shape of teardrops, as if the queen were weeping blood. Cersei smiled to see her, and Sansa thought it was the sweetest and saddest smile she had ever seen.
This was supposed to be another quick one that took me a literal month of work, on and off, and over 20 hours of audiobook listened while doing it.
There's something to be said about how nowadays I'm more comfortable with working on pieces for longer and just chipping away at work rather than staying up until 4 am to finish something on a rush but like.
Anyway, Sansa's POV! Cersei's revenge dress! Murdered husband! Misogyny will come for us all in the end!
"heads, spikes, walls" I know this means taking out arguably the two greatest schemers in Westeros and a lot of "fun".But how do you think things might have evolved had Tyrion decided to use Tywin's authorisation to get rid of Varys, Baelish and Pycelle?
Get rid of Littlefinger? Alliance-making with the Tyrells looks a lot different. The Lannister regime might not even make it until the crown's finances collapse - Tyrion's not spoiled for choice as far as envoys goes.
Get rid of Varys? Tyrion's got a lot more problems gaining intel in the Red Keep and leaves himself a lot more vulnerable to Cersei and her Great Ideas.
Get rid of Pycelle? Actually that probably is fun and games. Go ahead, Tyrion!
Pycelle pushed himself to his feet. He was clad in a magnificent robe of thick red velvet, with an ermine collar and shiny gold fastenings. From a drooping sleeve, heavy with gilded scrollwork, he drew a parchment, unrolled it, and began to read a long list of names, commanding each in the name of king and council to present themselves and swear their fealty to Joffrey. Failing that, they would be adjudged traitors, their lands and titles forfeit to the throne.
...
And at the end, near last, came the names Sansa had been dreading. Lady Catelyn Stark. Robb Stark. Brandon Stark, Rickon Stark, Arya Stark. Sansa stifled a gasp. Arya. They wanted Arya to present herself and swear an oath … it must mean her sister had fled on the galley, she must be safe at Winterfell by now …
A Game of Thrones- Chapter 57 (George R. R. Martin)
—Hace casi cuarenta años que soy Gran Maestre de los Siete Reinos —replicó Pycelle—. Durante el reinado de Robert, y antes de él el de Aerys Targaryen, y antes de él el de su padre Jaehaerys II, y antes del suyo, durante unos meses, serví al padre de Jaehaerys, Aegon V el Afortunado. He visto más enfermedades de las que quiero recordar, mi señor. Y os puedo decir algo: todos los casos son diferentes, y todos los casos se parecen. La muerte de Lord Jon no fue más extraña que tantas otras.
—Su esposa no opina lo mismo.
—Ahora lo recuerdo, la viuda es hermana de vuestra noble esposa —dijo el Gran Maestre con gesto de asentimiento—. Perdonad la ruda franqueza de este anciano, pero el dolor puede extraviar hasta a las mentes más fuertes y disciplinadas, y la de Lady Lysa nunca lo fue. Desde que dio a luz un bebé ya muerto ha visto enemigos por todas partes, y el fallecimiento de su señor esposo la ha destrozado.
—De modo que estáis seguro de que Jon Arryn murió debido a una enfermedad repentina.
—Así fue —asintió Pycelle con seriedad—. ¿A qué otra cosa pudo deberse, mi buen señor?
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The two guards posted outside my mothers bed chamber door opened it allowing me and Jaime to walk inside the room before they were shut quickly behind us. Sitting at the foot of her bed my mother was laid upright against the pillows after the Maester had put her on strict bed rest for the last few months of her pregnancy. “How are you doing this morning, mother?”
“I’ve been better - ohh. Ser Jaime come and sit with us. You don’t have to guard the door while there’s two outside the door.” My mother groaned, lifting her hand waving the golden knight over.
He lightly shook his head no. “I’m afraid it wouldn’t be right, my queen.”
“Are you defying an order from your queen?” I turned around slightly to face him, sending him a glare.
Jaime bent his head down eyeing his boots crossing the room and sitting across from me looking at my mother when he spoke to her. “My apologies, my queen. What do you need me to do for you?”
“Give me your hand.” She commands him and when he does she opens her right fist dropping a small object into his palm.
He closed his palm and opened it when he had his hand near his chest allowing me to see whatever it was. “My queen, what is this?”
“The wedding ring Ser Hasty gave to me. We were never allowed to wed as you both know but that doesn't mean you two cannot be.”
Hanging my mouth opened I was almost out of words. “Mother, I - I don't know what to say.”
“My queen, that is very generous of you but there's one big problem. I'm a Kingsguard forbidden from marriage or inherent.” Jaime eyed the ring that had one simple jewel in the center and some lines engraved on the sides but it was still a very simple ring, the object in question wasn't the problem for us.
Rhaella eyed the knight beside me. “Don’t tell me you two haven't thought about it. I know you two love one another.”
“Mother, it's just - we're not allowed to by law.”
She cut me off shortly. “Do you think that your brother cared about the law when he told me he was going to marry Lyanna Stark?”
“He told you about that. I - I thought he only told me out of fear that anyone else would inform our father.” I gasped realizing that of course he would tell her after all she was our mother.
She nodded her head slowly yes with a smile playing on her lips. “He’s getting married to her in a fortnight. You and Jaime should join them in Dorne. I may not be able to watch you marry but at least I can have a part in making it happen.”
I grinned in her direction when Jaime slipped the ring on my left finger, greatly that his mother’s friend approved of the relationship he had built with her daughter. “Thank you, my queen. I will do the best I can to be the husband your daughter deserves when we do get married.”
“Call me Rhaella please. We’ll be family someday.” My mother grasped his freehand on her own and we allowed for that comfortable silence between our family just enjoying the moment.
“Have you thought of the baby's name yet?”
She lowered her gaze. “I've been very occupied with simply carrying the infant in my womb. You'll understand one day when you have children.”
I lightly threw my hands up in disbelief that she hadn't settled on a name yet. “I can't believe this right now.”
She asked me clicking her tongue throwing out a name. “Daenys, perhaps?”
Shaking my head no in disagreement I knew that name didn’t seem right for my baby sister. “Nah, that’s not right.”
“What would you name the baby if I allowed you to?” Rhaella laughed at my response.
I clicked my tongue and got a better name to come to mind. “Daenerys.” My mother kindly smile back at me agreeing how the name sounded from my mouth settling on that would be her name.
Silently staring at Tyrion while he slept it had been weeks since he had woken up from the battle against Stannis. Sitting in a chair at his bedside I flipped through pages of one of his books until I had heard him groan as he blinked his eyes responding with a groggy voice. “Vae - is there any wine?”
“How about we get some water in you first before you get any alcohol.”
He grumbled some noises in complaint but drank the cup I had given him nonetheless shifting his body so he was laying up against the pillows more. “Please give me wine now?”
“In a while. The Maester said you need more water. You're dehydrated and that cut needs to heal.”
Tyrion’s green eyes scanned over me, noticing a chain necklace hanging down on the inside of my dress that he hadn’t seen before or had just forgotten about. “What's that necklace for? I - I don't remember you wearing one.”
“Oh right.” I realized that he wouldn't know considering I only wore it when I was asleep alone in my chamber but forgot to take it off this morning. “It’s from my mother. She gave it to your brother when she told us to follow my brother Rhaegar and get married as well.”
Tyrion weakly smiles. “So you’re my sister in law now?”
“Only around you and Jaime. The rest of the world doesn’t even know I exist, remember, the only Targaryen to walk the seven Kingdoms alive.”
He corrected my words instantly. “You're not the only Targaryen, Vaella.”
“Yes I am. My brother's and sister were slaughtered on the battlefield or on the orders of Tywin Lannister.”
The dwarf before me that I sometimes couldn't look at when he joined me and Jaime for drinks spoke the secret he had been keeping from me. “That’s what the world was told to believe. But it's not true. There have been whispers from across the Narrow Sea that a Targaryen girl still lives, along with three baby dragons.” He could never imagine what it must be like for me. Yet he knew that I didn't like him very much because he and Cersei were Jaime’s siblings, they were still alive while mine weren't.
“Daenys alive.”
He nodded his head slowly yes. “It's not for certain. But it is very much possible.”
“What about my other brother Viserys?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “I'll have to find out at the next small council meeting.”
“I can't believe this. I'm not - I thought I was alone and now I'm not.” Getting up from my chair I paced around the room feeling so many emotions running through me. Not all my siblings were dead and maybe one day I wouldn't be the only Targaryen in this city. Throwing my hands up in the air I cheered until my stomach felt queasy and I called towards the door. “Sansa!”
“Sansa?” Tyrion knitted his brows together.
The chamber door got bursted open and the auburn hair flew across the room holding my hair back when I bent over puking into Tyrion’s chamber pot. “I’m coming!” She had basically been following me since the night I had told her who I truly was.
“Lady Stark, do you know why she’s puking?” He asked her.
She shook her head no before I lifted my head up wiping my hand across my mouth sitting at the foot of his bed feeling exhausted from what had just occurred. “She knows I’m a Targaryen. The reason I’m throwing up I don’t know.”
“Vaella, I’m going to ask this one time. Do you still have your maiden hood?” He softly asked me, seeing my response as a head shake of no. “Podrick! Bring me Maester Pycelle.”
Pycelle, the old Maester that had served under my father’s command and many other Targaryens entered the room being escorted in by Bronn. “You wished to see me, my lord.”
“I need you to examine Clarrise here to see if she’s pregnant.” Bronn stood guard at the door, sword already in hand when Tyrion delivered his very serious threat. “And if you tell anyone about this I will have Bronn take your cock.”
Maester Pycelle had me do quite a few different exams before he found the answer asking me a simple question. “When was the last time you’ve bled?”
“It’s been a few weeks. Why?”
He corrected me. “Try about three months, my lady.”
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“You’re pregnant.” The Maester focuses his attention directly onto me with Tyrion and Sansa sitting on either side of me waiting for the news.
