@legendsaresooftenwarnings requested: “Or the reader is a shy noble girl engaged to oberyn and she can’t stop blushing and stuttering but she grows to care for him?”
AND
“Or a fluffy one where they take a bath together on their wedding day after the bedding?”
warnings:
{I thought I could combine these two requests into one (slightly changing the both), and fulfill a request that’s been on my dash since the beginning of the blog. Hope you enjoy!}
You weren’t used to the attention you received being at Oberyn’s side. You’d gone from being the unknown daughter of a Dornish lord, to being the sidearm of one of the most notoriously independent men in the Seven Kingdoms, and that turned a lot of heads. Men and women gossiped and tore into you, searching every scrap of your past to find something to discredit you, and conjured what they could not find.
Oberyn had found you, only a month into your engagement, hidden in an empty bedroom, wiping your red eyes after a former fling of his had cornered you and accused you of being a venomous snake who’d stolen the love of her life from her. He comforted you, and removed the woman who’d inflicted such pain, reassuring you that you were to be his wife, and while you wouldn’t be his only lover, you were his priority.
{ Part Two??? I was kind of unsure of the direction of this story, but I kind of like where it ended up. What do you guys think?}
You felt like a fool.
This morning had begun with such promise, sky clear and sun high, with the light chatter of songbirds outside your window. Your father’s campaign to find any man to take you had been briefly halted by an extended visit to his old friend Ned Stark. After pleasant conversation and decent wine, you regarded Ned as a friend, and you suspected he felt the same, based on your continued tradition of speaking each night.
Somehow your shared sorrow had made you both feel hopeful, at least for a minute, that perhaps tragedy didn’t beget tragedy. Maybe there was something else in this world, something else that the Gods intended, renewed purpose.
And then you had gone and smashed that budding friendship to pieces.
Podrick jumped in place and squeaked, swatting away your hands. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”
You laughed, watching his cheeks flush red as he realized who’d surprised him with mischievous fingers on his waist. “Oh, I didn’t mean to frighten you, Pod, you’re just so easy to tease!”
Straightening his tunic, he scowled at you, still clearly embarrassed. “I wasn’t scared, only surprised.”
“You shrieked like a banshee, Pod. You were scared.”
“Was not.”
“Was too.”
The childish argument continued until Tyrion Lannister leaned out in the hall, book under his arm, giving you both a playful glare. “If you’re going to advance whatever romance it is you’re pursuing, can you move it out to the balcony? I’m trying to read in here.”
Sheepishly, you both followed his suggestion, the echoes of your conversation carrying down the hall, small grins on both your faces.
Loras and Margaery were watching you as you played with the edge of your skirt, delaying for as long as you could.
“Sister, why are we here?” Margaery asked, her eyes as soft and perceptive as always, noting your clear nerves and lack of candor.
“I think I’m pregnant.” You spoke all at once, words blending together as you spit out the confession you’d been harboring for weeks.
Loras’ immediate reaction was rage, his protective instincts surging to blame your lover, a knight who’d been loyal to the Tyrell for years had defiled his baby sister and left her with child and without a ring, and to him, this was unacceptable. “Where is he? I’ll kill him.”
Margaery’s was one of momentary shock, before she swallowed it, moving to control her brother. “That won’t help anything, Loras. It’s done now, killing him will only cause more strife. We’ll have to think of what to tell Grandmother.”
You watched with mild nausea, seeing the wheels already beginning to turn in their brains.
“Y/N, how did this happen?”
“I love him, Loras. When he asked to take me to bed, I had no reason to say no.” Your eyes were downcast. “He’s not noble, but I love him.”
Margaery was quick to embrace you. “Sweet sister, your tender heart has imperiled you yet again. We promise, you’ll be fine.”
Loras, with cooling anger, nodded in agreement. It wasn’t ideal, but you were family, and nothing could change that.
The invasion of the Seven Kingdoms had been going poorly. After Euron Greyjoy decimated what remained of the naval fleet, Asha had barely been rescued, and scrambling to reclaim the campaign from the jaws of defeat.
This had inspired a bit of tension between the Khaleesi and the Greyjoy, one of the rushed decisions costing Danaerys one of her dragons and tilting the odds further towards the Lannister army advancing on the North.
This morning, they’d been bickering over a decision to abandon the Reach and focus more on the evacuation of the Wildlings, with the assistance of Jon Snow.
It had been close to an hour of fighting before you’d finally spoken up. “Ladies!”
They both turned to you, frustrated and at the end of their tethers.
“Surely, the three of us can work something out? Dany, you’re a Queen, and one of the strongest women I’ve ever met. You’ll succeed. The Gods wouldn’t have it any other way, or they’d have an issue with me. And Asha-” you turned to her, giving her a heavy look. “Losing was difficult for all of us, you the most so, but you have to trust that we know what we’re doing. Let someone else talk sometimes, and know that we’ll listen to you when the time comes.”
Both glanced at each other, and begrudgingly offered apologies, before turning back to the task at hand, albeit more calmly than before.
You turned to Tyrion Lannister, who was watching you with an degree of respect. “That’s why they need a mediator.” You concluded with a tiny wink.
Holding a hand over your mouth to muffle your breathing, you peered out from behind the tree, seeing Robb slowly patrolling the forest, calling out after you.
“Y/N? I know you’re in here somewhere, and I know these woods better than you. I’ll find you, it’s only a matter of time. I’ll get you back for this morning!”
This morning, you’d awoken your lover with a pail of freezing water, rushing out of the room and fleeing into the woods to avoid his wrath, however harmless it could be.
He chased you to the Weirwood, but you managed to hide in between some of the trees, and had remained hidden for the better part of an hour, heart pounding against your chest. You could hear his footsteps cracking on branches and snow, growing closer by the second. In a last ditch effort, you sprung out from behind your tree, intending to dart across the clearing, but finding his arms around your waist in an instant.
Holding you tightly, and resisting your struggles, he laughed lowly in your ear. “You didn’t think I’d catch you?”
Still thrashing in his arms, you pounded futilely on his arms, demanding he release you, a wide and carefree smile on your face.
His fingers began to trace your waist, watching you erupt into uncontrollable laughter as he caressed your weak spots, tickling you into submission. “This’ll serve as a reminder when you want to wake me in future days!” He teased, feeling you shudder and twist in his arms.
“No! I surrender! Leave me be!” You pleaded, in between strings of laughter, tears building at the corners of your eyes. “Have you no mercy?”
Even when his vengeance was completed, he still held you in his arms, glad to be with you, even when you indulged in your more devious pastimes.
Your relationship with Viserys was a source of pride for the remaining Targaryens, your committal to the ideals of your father, keeping the Targaryen bloodline to the purity which it had been for many years. Even as you were exiled from Westeros, your small family remained together, helping to raise Danaerys as authentically as you could to how you’d been raised.
You built a bond with her, an amalgam between a maternal figure and the older sibling she needed to help her through such trying times.
Thus, as news of your conceiving of a child was received, she was the first person you told. It was cause for celebration! You had an heir, and a viable claim to the throne now!
You took her hands in yours and brought her out into the balmy summer air. “I think I’m pregnant, Dany.”
Danaerys was silent for a moment, staring back at you, before mirroring your excitement and squeezing your hand. “Have you told Viserys yet?”
“I will,” you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, “soon.”
She frowned with minor disapproval. Despite the closeness of your bond, both of you were prone to keeping secrets. “He’ll be happy to hear it, Y/N, you’re the only thing that matters to him.”
“But, what do you think?”
Her brow furrowed. “What does it matter what I think? I’m excited to be an aunt, to spoil them rotten, teach them our history, like you taught me. I’ll be by your side, no matter what. Now, go tell Viserys!” She gave you a light-hearted shove towards the door, corners of her lips twisting up into a pleasant expression.
Your apartment in the aftermath of an argument with Robb was always a disaster area. Things strewn about, slammed doors, and messy or torn clothing. Tonight was meant to be dinner with his parents, and a disagreement had emerged over the length of your skirt, which had ended in his tearing of your dress, which had led to you storming off and locking yourself in the bathroom you shared.
You could hear his footsteps approaching the door. “Y/N…” he knocked twice. “We need to go if we’re going to beat traffic.”
You sniffled, wiping your nose, and smearing your makeup further. “I’m not going.” You spoke with determination, though your voice wavered slightly as you spoke.
“Don’t be a pain, we told them we’d meet them at the restaurant.” Your silence had him knocking again a few seconds later. “Y/N…”
“We’re not going until you apologize!” You demanded, throwing one of your heels against the door, vision blurred with tears. “You ruined my dress! You accused me of sleeping around! If you’re so ashamed to be with me, you can go by yourself!”
He sighed, twisting the knob again, letting his shoulders droop as he lowered his voice. “I just want them to like you. My family, they mean a lot to me, and after the last few girlfriends, they might think you’re just another fling, and I don’t want that.” He felt partially hopeful as he heard your pensive silence on the other side of the door. “Can you forgive me? I’ll help you pick out another dress.”
Slowly, very slowly, you approached the door, twisting the lock and leaning out into the hallway, staring at him with reddened eyes. “From now on, I wear what I want. They either like me or they don’t, I won’t pretend to be someone else for them.”
Excited at the prospect of moving past this, Robb agreed to your conditions wholeheartedly.
You and your sister Lyanna were in the armory, examining your brother Brandon’s new jousting armor, emblazoned with the sigil of the wolf on glimmering steel.
Lyanna was the first to speak. “It’s so clean and unattended…” her eyes drifted over to you, devilment clear in her eyes. “It would be a shame if someone tampered with it. So embarrassing for Brandon, if his armor didn’t fit quite right.”
You nodded, crossing your arms. “Especially if that Tully girl saw him, he’d be pure raging.” Reaching forward and unlatching an arm-guard, you tucked it in the folds of your dress, along with the helmet and accompanying sword. By the end, you’d left half a set of armor in the armory, and the other half on top of Ned’s bed.
The trap was laid, but the next part was trickier.
You were waiting in the armory when Brandon arrived, cursing and searching the room for the missing pieces and finding you instead.
“Y/N, where did you put my armor?”
“I didn’t touch it. I know who did though.” You extended a hand and lead him out into the center of the courtyard, pointing up to the open window, where Ned was examining a lovely steel blade, the same color as Brandon’s breastplate.
Brandon’s expression grew murderous. “I’ll go fetch it then.”
He disappeared into the castle, and a few moments later, you could hear the shouting from the second story.
“-I didn’t take it! I don’t know how it-”
“Choke and die!”
Taking Lyanna’s hand and shaking it in a celebratory way, you examined the havoc you’d created for your brothers. That’ll teach them what throwing snowballs in the morning yields.
Daario lit a cigarette, watching you redress in the corner of the room, moonlight flooding in through the far window, and wisps of smoke collecting in the air. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
You hugged your shirt to your chest, feeling filthy and used. This was the third time he’d invited you over ‘just to talk’, and the third time he’d coaxed you into bed. “I can’t keep doing this. It’s not fair to her.”
“Danaerys is out of town every other week, it’s not like she’ll find out!” He slid out of the bed, approaching you and moving to grab your hands. “Baby.” He frowned as you pulled away.
“No. That’s not going to work this time. You need to choose, Daario. Me, or her?”
andtheytoldustotellyouhello 