#ourfuryroars

“You’re a great Lord Commander, Jon.” Satin believed it fully, the men could get a little wild and reckless but they would fall into line, he had to believe that that were true. He had to believe that soon everything would be okay, that all of the brothers would come to their senses and join their side. They voted him and they had to trust him and all of his choices.

He wanted to suggest going to someone but who? Who would give them guidance when there was so much distrust. Satin walks over to put down Jon’s drink then took a seat. “Mayhaps...King Stannis would be help with these matters?”

Jon sighs and pushes away from the window, turning to look at his steward. He knows Satin means well, and Satin has been his only solace in this job, the only thing keeping him from being completely alone. Jon shakes his head and reaches up to scratch the neck of the crow resting on his shoulder. 

“No Satin.” Jon sighs. “I can’t do that.” He wishes he could, but he knew well enough what Stannis would expect in return for helping with these matters. “If I ask for Stannis’ help he’ll expect the Watch to support his cause and we can’t do that.” 

Sansa could not stand the rumors that were echoing through the halls, she didn’t dare go to Arthur to ask him if it was true, She knew before they were married that there was a chance that they’d be split up by war sooner than than later, but with the whispers barely a month into their marriage she was getting upset. Picking up a gift she’d had made for him, she walked to his solar and knocked gently. “Arthur?” She called gently before opening the door. “May I come in?” She asked with a gentle smile.

PRIVATE ROLEPLAY: DO NOT REBLOG IF YOU ARE NOT MY PARTNER.

@ourfuryroars​

╣❦╠ ƈօռզʊɛʀɨռɢ ֆȶօʀʍ ❧

The last year under Master Illyrio’s roof had been better than any shelter they had found before, with the exception of Ser Darry’s little manse - at least to Daenerys. Viserys soaked up the false adulation that greeted him at every turn, increasing his bloated ego and paranoia at the same time. He left her alone most of the time, unless he had grown angered - then he spat angry words at her before using his fists. Over time, Illyrio seemed to grow more adept at curbing Viserys’ perceived insults and Daenerys stayed out of her brother’s path.

Illyrio’s large compound had a library and Dany was often there, reading when the fat Magister found her one evening as dusk fell. She didn’t like being alone with him, but this night, he did not speak down to her. An arrangement had been made when she had been just a babe, one that would afford her brother, as heir of House Targaryen, two powerful armies - one here in Essos and one in Westeros. Daenerys silently noted the distinction of ‘heir’ and wondering why, but what he said next shocked her. Through this agreement, she was betrothed to Ser Jaime Lannister, and had been for many years.

Even Viserys had only just been told when the host from the Golden Company arrived in advance of the wedding. Her husband-to-be was waiting to meet her in the courtyard, but first she must be made ready. Illyrio snapped his fingers and four of his slaves entered, tittering as they gathered her up, whisking Dany to the bath where they washed her hair until it glistened in a shimmer of silver. One brought a silken gown of the barest violet and she submitted to being dressed, her thoughts a roil of fear and confusion.

Daenerys knew of the Golden Company, the fiercest army in Essos, unbeaten and honorable to their contracts. It was said that the Leader had to beat the previous one to become Commander and that the more armbands of gold, the richer the man. The door opened and Viserys stepped in, glowering as the slaves hurried away. She froze as he reached out, sliding his fingers down the slope of her shoulder and the swell of her breast. “I need you to be perfect today. You don’t want to wake the dragon, do you?” Viserys murmured darkly. Daenerys cringed, shaking her head with a whispered ‘no’. He smirked and grabbed her by the arm, pulling her along as he crossed the manse to the courtyard.

HER hair is loose in the firelight, in waves from the undone plaits she wore in the day.  sansa’s heart beats from beneath the thin fabric of her nightdress. can he hear it ??  her tully blues unwaver from lannister green, even as the warmth creeps along her cheeks -- sansa had always blushed prettily, ever since she was a girl.  “ -- i think you are lost, ser.”

Brienne was leaving the chamber where Septa Mordane was tutoring Sansa and Arya with a sigh when she spotted Jon heading towards the training grounds. She had been at Winterfell for two years now, and while she was close to all of the young Starks, she was probably closest to Jon. 

@ourfuryroars

He had never been so quiet and Brienne was rather uncertain if she liked it. So many insulte had been hurled at her but they had seemingly ceased once they'd left those burnt towers of Harrenhal behind.

There was something...new...in the way he looked at and spoke to her now. She could not quite decide what it was, but something had certainly shifted between them from the moment they had shared that bath together.

She pulled her cloak tighter about her shoulders then, an attempt to quell the chill that was coming over her. They had left Harrenhal mere days ago, but they were not far enough south yet for Brienne to feel any kind of comfort. The small fire they had built provided a little solace, but not enough.

She looked upon the two sleeping men either side of her. She had woken what she assumed was almost an hour ago and sleep would not return to her, so she had moved to sit closer to the fire. As if sensing her gaze, Ser Jaime opened his eyes.

"That makes sense, I suppose," Loras conceded. He'd been too young to go to the tourney where Willas's leg had been hurt, but he could imagine it well enough. It must've been frightening, to say the least.

"I'm going to knock him off his stupid horse when I'm bigger," he said, frowning at the floor. "See how he likes it." Loras had decided, since the tourney, that he didn't like Oberyn Martell- as he wouldn't like anyone who hurt his siblings. Even if Willas seemed to be happy with the way everything had worked out, and Loras loved his brother just as he was, Oberyn Martell had still hurt him, and that was what mattered.