Respect is not earned. That's the bare minimum you can give someone, because if someone comes out the gate disrespecting you then you would feel a type of way. Stop normalizing poor behavior. People should respect you from the get go until you do something to show them otherwise. Respect is freely given, then only subtracted when unscrupulous or disrespectful behavior is seen or enacted
I believe that actions speak louder than words. Anyone can make promises, say the right things, or tell you what you want to hear, but true character is revealed through actions. Words can be empty, but actions show intention, effort, and sincerity. Trust is built when people consistently follow through on what they say, proving their reliability and integrity. In a world full of talk, I choose to believe in what people do rather than what they merely say.
Tag list - list @rise-my-angel @cdragons @kmc1989 @starkleila @1not-today-satan1 @rheanyraaaa
The Southern wind howled around tent walls, a mournful cry that mirrored the ache in my heart. Catelyn Stark was gone. Murdered. I felt the chill of it even here, so far north, a cold that settled deep in my bones. I had a plan, a risky one, born from a desperate need to end this war, to save what remained of the North, of my husband. It required a deal with the devil, a serpent in golden armor. Jaime Lannister.
He was a prisoner now, held in one of our tents. Robb, understandably, was wary of me even being in the same room as him, let alone speaking. Our past... well, it was complicated. There was a time, before the war, before my marriage, when Jaime and I… we understood each other. A shared cynicism, perhaps, a recognition of the gilded cage we both occupied. Trust, of a sort, had formed in the heart of that understanding.
Robb paced the solar, his hand constantly going to the hilt of his sword. "Are you certain about this, Haelesa? Talking to him alone? He's a Lannister, a liar, a kingslayer."
I met his gaze, my own unwavering. “I know what Jaime Lannister is, Robb. But he is also a pragmatist. He values his own life, and the lives of his family. He also has a soft spot for King’s Landing if he hasn’t lost it after what Cersei did to the Sept of Baelor.”
His jaw tightened. He wouldn’t forget that Cersei was still out there. “And you think he’ll listen to you? After everything?”
“I think he will listen to the possibility of ending this war,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “I think he will listen to anything that might get him back to his sister and his family.”
He stopped pacing and stared at me. I knew what he was thinking. He was remembering the rumors, the whispers that had followed me even to Winterfell. That Haelesa Velaryon and Jaime Lannister had been more than just acquaintances at court.
“I trust you, Haelesa,” he said finally, the words sounding strained. “But I don't trust him. Not for a moment.”
“I know,” I replied softly. “Which is why I need to do this. Let me speak to him, Robb. Just for an hour. Let me plant the seed.”
He hesitated, his internal conflict visible on his face. He loved me, I knew, but he also carried the weight of his crown, the burden of his people. In the end, that burden won. He nodded curtly. “An hour. No more. And I will be right outside the door.”
The tent was cold and damp, the air thick with the stench of mildew and despair. The only light came from a sputtering torch held by a guard who looked as miserable as the prisoners he watched over. Jaime Lannister sat on a rough-hewn stool, his golden hair lank and unkempt, his once-gleaming armor replaced with dull, grey prison garb. He looked… diminished. Almost human.
He straightened as I approached, a flicker of something unreadable in his green eyes. "Little Velaryon," he drawled, the nickname a familiar taunt. "Come to gloat? Or perhaps to offer some… conjugal comfort to a desperate prisoner?"
I ignored the barb, my face hardening. I learned a long time ago to build walls around myself, shields against the Lannister wit. “I’m not here for games, Jaime. I'm here to talk about ending this war.”
He chuckled, a dry, humorless sound. "Ending the war? And what makes you think I have any say in that? I'm a prisoner, a pawn."
"You're Jaime Lannister," I said, my voice low but firm. “A man of influence, even behind bars. You still have ears in King's Landing, I imagine. And you still have Cersei.”
His eyes narrowed, the amusement fading. "Get to the point, Haelesa."
I leaned closer, the torchlight casting dancing shadows on the damp fabric walls. “King’s Landing. It's going to fall, Jaime. Sooner or later. The Northmen are united and there are already a few houses down south that are turning their backs on the Iron Throne. The people are starving, the city is crumbling. What’s the point of defending it? And for what?”
He was silent for a moment, considering my words. I saw the flicker of recognition in his eyes, the understanding that I wasn’t speaking empty threats. “And what do you propose, Little Velaryon? I suddenly develop a conscience and beg my sister to surrender?”
“No,” I said. “I propose a plan. A way to end the war with minimal bloodshed. A way to save King's Landing, and maybe even your family.”
His eyebrow arched. “Do tell.”
“You get out of here, Jaime. You go back to King's Landing. You convince Cersei to surrender.”
He laughed, a loud, incredulous sound that echoed through the air. "You're insane. Cersei? Surrender? She'd sooner burn the city to the ground.”
“That’s where you come in,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “You don’t convince her. You overpower her.”
The laughter died in his throat. He stared at me, his expression a mixture of disbelief and something else… something almost like hope. "Explain," he said, the word clipped and sharp.
"You sneak into the city, Jaime. Find a way, bribe someone, use your… Lannister charm. Once you're inside, you go to the Great Sept, climb to top… and you ring the bells.”
“Ring the bells?” he repeated, confusion lacing his voice.
“The bells of surrender. It’s a signal known by everyone. It means the city is yielding. It means no more fighting, no more bloodshed.” Putting my hands on my hips I throw a hand up in the air listing things on my fingers.
“And you think Cersei will just stand by and let me do that?”
“No,” I said. “I think she will try to stop you. But you’re Jaime Lannister. You're one of the most skilled swordsman in Westeros. And you know Cersei better than anyone. You know her weaknesses, her vulnerabilities. You can do this.”
Jaime knitted his brows at me, gesturing his head towards his golden hand. “I’m not the fighter I used to be.”
“Tyrion told me that you had Bronn teach you to fight with your other hand.” Crossing the room I dropped down on my knees to be eye with the golden lion. “Something we have in common is that when pushed we are survivors. If you won't do this for yourself, do it for honor, do it for your sister.”
He was silent for a long moment, his gaze fixed on the floor. I could see the gears turning in his mind, the calculations, the weighing of risks and rewards. “And what do I get out of this, Haelesa?” he asked finally, his voice low. “Besides a possible death sentence from my sister?”
“You get to save your city,” I said. “You get to save your family. You get to end this pointless war that you're bastard son started when he took Ned Stark's head.”
"And what does your Northmen husband get? The Iron Throne?"
"My husband wants peace," I say firmly. "He wants the North to be free to rebuild. He wants to stop the bloodshed and make it so his Northmen never have to ride South again. He wants me and his daughter safe in our beds."
He was silent again, his green eyes boring into me. I held his gaze, refusing to flinch. I had laid my cards on the table. It was up to him to decide whether to play.
“Why are you doing this, Haelesa?” he asked, his voice softer now, almost… vulnerable. “Why are you risking so much for… for me? For my family?”
I looked away, unable to meet his gaze. “I’m doing this for the realm and for my family - my daughter Cadenza.” I said, the words . “I’m doing this for peace. I’m doing this because… because I believe it’s the right thing to do.”
He reached out, his hand closing over mine. His touch was warm, surprisingly gentle. “You’re a good woman, Haelesa,” he said. “You deserve better than this war. Then this… life.”
I pulled my hand away, a flush creeping up my neck. “Don’t,” I said, my voice sharp. “Don’t make this about us, Jaime. This isn’t about us.”
He chuckled, a trace of his old arrogance returning. “Everything is always about us, Little Velaryon. Whether you admit it or not.”
The guard cleared his throat, a reminder that our time was almost up. I stood, my heart pounding in my chest. “Will you do it?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “Will you ring the bells?”
He looked at me, his expression unreadable. “I’ll consider it,” he said finally. “Now, get out of here, Haelesa. Before I say something we both regret.”
I turned and walked away, my steps echoing in the cold, damp dungeon. I didn't know if I had convinced him. I didn't know if he would betray me, betray Robb, betray everyone. But I had planted the seed. And sometimes, that was all you could do. As I walked back to the solar, I saw Robb waiting for me. His face was drawn with worry, his eyes searching. He opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off.
“Give him a horse,” I said, my voice firm. “Give him supplies. And let him go.”
Robb stared at me, utterly bewildered still about my plan. “Are you still certain about this?”
“Yes, I am” I said. “The only way to win a war is to take a chance. And sometimes, the only way to save a kingdom is to trust a kingslayer.”
He looked at me long and hard, weighing my words, searching for any hint of deception. I met his gaze, my own unwavering. “Do you trust me, Robb?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
He hesitated for a moment, then nodded slowly. “I trust you with my life, Haelesa.”
And in that moment, I knew that I had done all I could. The rest was up to Jaime Lannister. The fate of King's Landing, and perhaps the entire realm, rested on the decisions of a prisoner, a kingslayer, a man I both trusted and feared. All I could do now was wait and pray that he would choose wisely. But, with the Game of Thrones, prayers were as useful as a paper boat in the Iron Sea.
sorry to say this but i will be taking a temporary break from writing Trust is earned! I’m currently not happy with were the story going and i want to take the time to either rewrite or refocus the narrative.
However i do have some other ideas that id like to work on so i think I’ll do that. ALSO i will no longer be following a posting schedule i think that’s become an issue where i am pressuring myself to write anything and not focus on the quality of said writing. Which is just something i don’t feel comfortable doing.
So sorry to the Trust is Earned readers but i just think it needs to be done.
Summary: As a way to pay back Captain Charles Vane for lying about a stolen map, the reader becomes the Ranger’s new fence. Their new partnership requires them to pretend to be sleeping together to keep anyone from learning the truth. Of course not everything is pretend: like the danger the reader is in or the feelings that particular pirate brings out of her.
Word Count: 34.4k
Part 1 X Part 2 X Part 3 X Part 4 X Part 5 X Part 6 X Part 7 X Part 8 X Part 9 X Part 10
