Scandal Westeros

Modern ASOIAF AU in a "Scandal" setting with Sarella Sand as Olivia Pope. An aggressively detailed worldbuilder who occasionally writes stories. Anti no one. Too old for this shit & doing it anyway. https://archiveofourown.org/series/1623448

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After blasting onto the political scene on campaigns for the likes of Selwyn Tarth and Robb Stark, Sarella Sand is rising through the ranks of crisis consulting to become one of the republic's best-known fixers. While she refuses to dish on her top clients, she chats with us about her dual heritage, sisterly bonds, how she got into politics, and free advice to help celebrities avoid scandals.

On Her Heritage "I take great pride in having two homelands." But don't expect her to reinforce any reductive stereotypes about the Dornish or Summer Islanders. "I, unfortunately, dealt with a lot of coded language about my 'spicy' and 'inherently sensual' background when I first came to Westeros, but that's not what I take from my heritage," she says. "Growing up in two rich and distinct cultures taught me to be more open to the world than people who strongly identify with being one thing or another."

On Being Raised by the Ultimate #GirlDad "A man with my father's reputation shouldn't have been enthusiastic about raising a brood of girls," Sarella says of Dornish Prince Oberyn Martell, who famously fathers eight high-achieving women. A friend once said I grew up in a 'training camp for badass girls.' He wasn't entirely wrong."

On the Importance of Sisterhood "It's like being born into a sorority," she muses. "We have matching tattoos. We do an annual Solstice Eve sleepover with just the eight of us. As we speak, I'm packing for the King's Landing Tennis Open [her sister, Elia Sand, is the early favorite]."

On Keeping Her Cool in Tense Situations "My mother [Summer Isles High Court Judge, Jolona Qo] and her mother are extremely poised, some of it is genetic," she says. "Years of archery practice help, too," she answers. "You can't hit your target when you're panicked."

On Her Jump from Academia to Politics The former history and linguistics student credits her Citadel advisor, Maester Marwyn, with changing the course of her career. "He was big on tying his expertise [ancient cultures and anthropology] to the present day with guest lecturers from outside academia."

She planned to become a professor/researcher until she attended a guest lecture by political consultant Wyman Manderly in her third year. "I think it was called 'Mythology in Modern Politics' or something similar. And it helped me see how the seemingly abstract topics I studied still play out in modern power structures. I was hooked."

On the Craziest Problem She's Ever "Fixed" "I make problems disappear, so I'll never tell." But she's willing to share a recurring issue: celebrity sex tapes. "Just don't do it," she advises. "They always land in the wrong hands. I've seen too many of you [famous Westerosi] naked."

https://archiveofourown.org/series/1623448

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(interrupting my Scandal Westeros content to leave this here)

Read here

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Sarella Sand Olivia Pope | Scandal Westeros

Westeros' Resident Fixer. Citadel Alumni. Daughter of Summer Isles High Court Justice Jolona Qo and Prince Oberyn Martell of Dorne.

Warrior in a Suit.

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Sarella Sand. Westeros’s top political consultant. Brienne’s followed her work since Sarella helped her father get elected to the Storm Lands seat on the High Council. She’d met Sarella at his swearing-in but... “I don’t understand. Why would she…”

“I enjoy foreplay as much as the next girl, Brienne, but I’m not asking if you want the job. We both know that you do. No matter what you say, you want more for yourself than busting your ass in the name of some Ken doll you diddle yourself to when you go home at night. So, Cinderella. You can keep scrubbing Renly’s floors hoping someone will make you the belle of the ball or you can let Fairy Godmother Sarella make you a warrior in a suit.”

This is insane. A woman she’s never met, reading her biography and inner thoughts, dangling the opportunity of a lifetime. Common sense tells Brienne she needs more time. To do research. She should at least go to the restroom and search Nymeria on Beacon to see if she is who she says she is.

But Brienne’s answer doesn’t come from the common sense part of her brain. Something higher, or perhaps deeper inside, speaks with such conviction that she’s shocked when the words come out of her mouth. “I want to be a warrior in a suit.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22562950

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"Know it should be easy but we make it hard

The only one that ever really knew my heart

When we get together it's like rain and storms

But when the sun comes up it's you who keeps me warm..."

Another #Robbella anthem.

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Coming soon 👀...

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“Too often, the people in this room—myself included—treat our lives like a great game. Egged on by a media environment hungry to make us pieces on a board, we view the world through the lens of polls, percentages, and press releases. Wins and losses on a battlefield that amounts to little more than attention and distraction. We stand here today, knowing outside these doors, the memory of the man we mourn has been reduced to mere cannon fodder, volleyed to and ‘fro in service of ratings and clicks. But I’d like to talk about Renly Baratheon the man because that is what he was: a man. Made of flesh, blood, and bone.

“He does not leave behind a former Prime Minister and a sitting Justice Minister but brothers. Brothers who watched him take his first steps, taught him to smell rain in the air on his first hunt. Who stood at his side when they buried their parents, long before their time. He leaves behind not a media darling, but a wife who carries her first child alone. A child who will never know Renly’s smile. His embrace. The wisdom passed down from his father before him.

“Our loss can’t be condensed into a soundbite on a screen because Renly Baratheon wasn’t a headline—he was our friend and colleague. A brother, a husband, and a father-to-be.”

“Passionate words spoken by Northern Councilman Robb Stark in what’s being hailed throughout the Republic as one of the speeches of the year. The eulogy, presented at a private memorial held in the Stormlands for the late Councilman Renly Baratheon, comes amidst a barrage of rumors about the late councilman’s private life…”

“You trained him well.”

Sarella looks up to find her xola moving through the kitchen, eyes cast on the panel between the cabinets playing WNTH news. She’s in her standard morning wear, a floor-length silk robe with a matching head wrap, with her daily breakfast cocktail in hand. Passionfruit juice, champagne, and a swallow of rum. Just a little something to start the day, she calls it.

Sarella tries to focus on the task at hand. The tomatoes she picked from the garden this morning won’t fry themselves. “That’s not training,” she replies. “That’s him.”

Chapter Eight: Flesh, Blood, and Bone | Warrior in a Suit, Scandal Westeros Finale

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*SCANDAL WESTEROS UPDATE ALERT*

“We need to talk. And before you ask, it can’t wait.”

“Sounds ominous,” Robb replies, eyes still glued to his phone.

You have no fucking idea. “You might wanna sit down.”

This earns Robb’s attention. A sharp blue version of Uncle Ned’s piercing gaze assesses him for clues. “Nah. I’ll stand. Talk.”

Jon picks his spot, perched on Theon’s desk with a safe distance between them. “Before I do,” he says, folding his arms. “I want an oath.”

“An oath?”

“Aye. I’m gonna treat you like a man grown and tell you the whole truth. In return, you’ll behave like one. Meaning you’ll think before you act. And I want that on Uncle Ned’s grave.”

“Jon—”

“Not sayin’ a fuckin’ word until you swear.”

The cousins’ eyes lock as Robb reaches under his collar for the piece of weirwood he’s worn around his neck for the last twenty years. “On my Da’s grave, I swear it.”

Nodding, Jon rolls up the sleeve of his thermal and places two fingers on the heart’s tree inked into his forearm. “On Uncle Ned’s grave, I swear it.”

“Get on with it, then.”

“Sarella’s father,” the air shifts as soon as the name comes out of his mouth. “He’s fuckin’ mad. She’s safe—” But the vein popping out of Robb’s neck tells him the assurance means next to nothing. “Taking a time out in Ebonhead, but…” he shakes his head. “It’s dark, mate.”

“Define dark.”

Chapter Eight: Flesh, Blood, and Bone | Warrior in a Suit, Scandal Westeros Finale

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*SCANDAL WESTEROS UPDATE ALERT*

For a few hours in the air, Sarella’s brain worked well enough to make a list.

Without her trust, Sphinx had six months of cash reserves. She could give up her salary, call the accountant and move money from her personal account. Tell Nym to cut spending where she could.

Her staff would be paid, she wouldn’t starve. Financially, at least, she was fine. Though, she almost wished she wasn’t.

Scrambling for cash would at least give her a task, something to focus on. Alas, nothing needed done so she did nothing. She haunted her grandmother’s home like a ghost; sleeping the sun-soaked days away, nibbling on meat and cheese in the middle of the night when her stomach compelled her out of bed. Doing her level best to avoid Xola’s soft, patient stare as she went through the motions.

Then, there were the dreams. Never of work, or Daemon’s sweet lies, of Obara’s disappointment or Oberyn’s cold cruelty. Always of Robb. Robb’s hands in her hair, his demanding mouth slanting over hers for a stolen kiss in the campaign office after dark, his bites and guttural oaths of devotion groaned in her ear. Eyes that caught hers across crowded rooms and said everything he couldn’t—Why are you over there when you belong over here, with me?

Night after night, her subconscious only proved Oberyn’s point. She’d been too lost, first in her feelings and then in avoiding them, to see anything clearly. And everything—every one—in her orbit paid dearly for it.

Chapter Seven: Smoke and Mirrors | Warrior in a Suit, Scandal Westeros Finale

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In a good creative groove. Happy to take any Scandal Westeros questions. (I will not spoil future plot points lol)

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“Listen to me, Robb,” Lyanna points her chin down, fixing him with pure fire behind her flinty eyes. “I don’t need your shit about men and fathers, about needing to know where you come from. My son came from me. That is my blood—the blood of kings and survivors of the world’s darkest nights and coldest storms—running through his veins. He’s nobody’s cast-off. No one’s mistake. Not redemption for a sad man in a castle whose whole life was chosen for him. Jon knows what he needs to know—that he’s a Stark.”

Chapter Six: The Things We Do for Love | Warrior in a Suit, Scandal Westeros Finale

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Jolona closes her eyes. This is her doing. She inflicted Oberyn on Sarella’s life when she could have raised her child alone without him being any wiser, saved them all the aggravation of legal proceedings and shuttling Sarella back and forth between Dorne and the Isles. Given her daughter her name, Sarella Xanai Qo, the name passed through centuries of women who fought wars and led nations and held families together with guile and grace instead of forcing her to carry the mark of an idea as silly as bastardy. Freed her from the tyranny of a so-called father, a petty prince whose love only reaches as far as his own reflection.

But there are no right or wrong decisions in the past. No magic that turns back the hands of time. She can only see things as they are in the here and now and make them right.

(watch this space...)

Chapter Six: The Things We Do for Love | Warrior in a Suit - Scandal Westeros Finale

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After the latest chapter i have to ask: will we ever have Lannister pov? Because the mess Cercei got herself is just so juicy she would absolutely have Opinions on shit happening, as would Jaime and Tyrion.

Hm. TBD... With Cersei involved in the end game, I can't imagine one or two of our proud lions not having a say...

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will we encounter the Targaryens close again the last installment? very curious abot Egg's current shenanigans and Dany's outlook on the happenings

lol. I'm trying to stay on task this time around and keep things focused on our central players. If Dany or Eggy show up, it will be in another one-off bonus type of scene.

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*SCANDAL WESTEROS UPDATE ALERT*

Jon is the king’s son.

Father and Benjen were in on it. The family quietly hired Howland Reed to bury her trails, shifted cash to rent some nameless house in a Qohorik village, complete with medical staff while Lyanna was pregnant. They paid off hospitals. Forged a birth certificate. Fabricated a dead Braavosi naval officer to look like Lyanna’s lover.

All of it—lies. Thirty some odd years’ worth, stacked brick by brick by the Republic’s most honorable man.

And now Robb remembers all those hushed conversations between his parents. His mother’s terse questions about why Jon had to come live with them in his teens: where was his father’s family and why couldn’t they take him in. Ned’s firm insistence that Jon was as Stark as the children she bore him.

He sees his cousin’s eyes, the flash of indigo occasionally caught by the sunlight. The typical Stark grey overlaid with something rarer, finer. Those almost too delicate facial features.

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Robb does not want to know this.

"The Things We Do for Love," Chapter Six | Warrior in a Suit, Scandal Westeros Finale

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The apartment smells wrong. Not bad, exactly, but off—like food left too long on the counter and something empty beneath it. Something she can’t name. She only knows she doesn’t like it.

“Sarella. Sarella, open the door.”

Sarella blinks, the sunlight through her living room harsh against her eyes. The tang of Sandstone Varietal on her tongue. Yesterday’s wool skirt itchy against her legs, and smeared black and brown spots on her couch cushion.

Then it all comes back. The spilled food. Oberyn’s soulless eyes. The two bottles of wine she put down once her feet could carry her to the bar. And the tears. Ones she refused to cry watching Roslin Frey show off her engagement ring on the morning news. Ones she drowned in wine, work, and sex with Daemon as she tried to erase the ghost of Robb’s touch from her skin. Ones she swallowed putting Jeyne Westerling on a flight to King’s Landing and leaving the Valyrian steel anklet on that table at the Crossroads. Ones her rage kept at bay watching the blackmail video from the Winterfell library. Ones that held as her father ripped through the careful reality she’d threaded to keep herself intact. Only after the wine settled in her bloodstream did they finally fall. And then, they didn’t stop. Not until sleep claimed her and they’d left foundation and mascara stains all over her $15,000 couch.

Another knock at the door, followed by the jingling of keys. “I’m coming in.”

She turns her back, burying her face in plush chenille. Knowing what Nym will see when she comes in and having no energy to deal with it. She hears the click of heels, the sudden stop, and—right on time—the shocked gasp.

“I’m fine,” Sarella mumbles into the cushion.

“Seven hells, you are. What the fuck…” a sharp inhale, then a predatory hiss. “Where’s Daemon?”

Fucking Daemon Sand. The mere mention of the name evokes a weary sigh. “Not Daemon.” Though, yes, Daemon, but on orders. “Oberyn.”

---

"Free Fall," Chapter 5 of Warrior in a Suit (Scandal Westeros - Finale)

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Something cold settles in Tywin’s chest. Something more than the aggravation of inconvenience. More than fresh anger at another of Aerys’s stunts. It’s something old. A festering rage at the stink of familiarity this all holds and he could wretch in its presence. It recalls women paraded around his family’s home after his mother’s death. Gin-soaked laundry wafting by in baskets carried by the housekeeper. Phone calls to his grandfather to make sure the trusts for he and his siblings were safe.

Yes. Tytus would do something just like this. Hide under the prettiest skirt he could buy when the weight of being a man—of losing a wife and raising children in the wake of it—proved too difficult a task.

And Aerys gifted him this. As if Tywin were like him.

Hardness settles over his face. Teeth locking themselves inside his jaw as he barely spits the words out. “I don’t need company.”

___

Sharks, an Origin Story on AO3.