a song of ice and fire/game of thrones ladies open post

2015-08-05 14:49[personal profile] ungentle
ungentle: (bright branches of lovely moments)

a song of ice and fire/game of thrones ladies open post

Exactly as it says on the tin. Toss up a picture prompt, a slice-of-life prompt, some fluffy shipping/filthy smut for the of-age girls, an AU (some favorites of mine), whatever strikes your fancy. (Examples are not all-inclusive, just starting suggestions.) The available ladies here are:
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2014-04-02 16:06[personal profile] ungentle
ungentle: (this body can only cry for so long)
King's Landing had not truly suited Daenerys when she was half-welcome there, and it suited her even less in the time that had followed Ned Stark's execution.  He had been her only protector (and perhaps a grudging one at that) and his guardianship of her the only thing keeping her from being turned fully into the pawn she so dreaded being.  It wasn't, she supposed, quite so horrible as the situation poor Sansa found herself in: she had gone through as many horrible things as balanced out the lovely ones she'd been promised when her family was still in the Baratheons' and Lannisters' good graces.  She had never been in anyone's good graces, she had been in part a prisoner from the start, now the keys had just been given to a different, admittedly crueler, jailer.

It had always been hers to be polite and demure and apologetic, prove that her blood did not define her loyalty.  It had always been hers to pretend where that loyalty did lie (and she had never truly been bothered by the Starks, they had always been, if not warm, then decent to her, but the withering glances she got at court -- to say nothing of the wild-eyed lustful ones -- were not a surprise either, and were not so hard to deflect).  She had always been treated with suspicion, she had always been moved around.  The talk nowadays was of marrying her off to a lord of the Lannisters' choosing, someone true to them who would temper any mild rebellious instincts that may appear (Lord Eddard had always been wary of allowing this, but now he could not stop it).

Until she was played, though, she stayed at court with the others.  She wasn't often allowed to be properly alone, and she wasn't often allowed to keep private company with Sansa (who knew what they, daughters of a traitor and a madman, would dream up if unsupervised).  She wasn't pampered (she was never pampered) but she wasn't kept uncomfortably.  She also wasn't ignorant, though she was good at playing that up.  As such, she knew it was only a matter of time before she received an invitation to be entertained by the new queen-to-be, the lithe and beautiful Rose of Highgarden.
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2014-02-12 00:12[personal profile] ungentle
ungentle: (you won't believe that i am sorry)
They have been a few days in the Red Waste and have who knows how many more ahead of them when Daenerys first breaks down.

Not where anyone will see, of course.  It wouldn't do for the people now following her -- that she is now leading -- to be made aware of her doubts, her fears, her anxieties, her loneliness.  She must be strong for them, and it is this resolve that causes her to keep her head up all during the hours of traveling, the meals that are already becoming meager.  She smiles, she makes decisions, she passes time with the dragons and thanks whichever god is listening for them.

It's not till night has fallen and everyone has begun to drift off to rest, till she is alone (something she is so unused to now, after sharing her bed; it's funny, at least in a tragic sort of way, because she was alone for most of her life but now, after what amounts to so little time elsewise, she dreads it), that she lets at least some of it wash over her.  She's quiet, it is not her intention to alarm anyone, but she has not let herself do this and she thinks, if dimly, that perhaps she needs to.

When she hears a voice outside her tent, though, she does her best to calm herself, sitting up and wiping her tears away with the back of her hand, steadying her voice as she calls, "Hello?"  Anything else, anything belying her emotion, wouldn't do.

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2013-10-21 15:50[personal profile] ungentle
ungentle: (oh we're black and blue)
Daenerys knew the North very well by now, as much as she knew it wasn't hers.

She'd spent practically her whole life in Winterfell, under Lord Eddard's -- protection?  Care?  Watchful eye?  Possibly some combination -- and truly, she was grateful of it.  Surely her life could have taken other, less civil turns: exile, perhaps, or being killed like the rest of her family.  She wasn't a Stark, she had always known she didn't quite belong, but she was looked after by the Starks, this for reasons she was only just beginning to understand.  (It fascinated her that not killing children was considered a matter of politics and not of basic decency, but then, she was only a young girl, she wasn't meant to understand these things.)

It wasn't uncommon for the once-princess to seek out privacy and quiet when her day's work was done.  She'd been a striking girl and she'd grown into an even more striking woman, and even despite the whispered worries about her lineage, she had always received a great deal of attention; she was as good and polite as she could be when approached, but this tendency to run off and hide, though not entirely ladylike, stemmed from a desire to avoid such attention.  She often retreated to the godswood, though not from any particular religious inclination so much as that she knew it was unlikely she'd be disturbed there, at least by anyone who wasn't welcome to disturb her.

Today's earlier raven from King's Landing, though innocuous enough, had sent Daenerys into a mood: carefully disguised, hardly noticeable to most, but nonetheless one she felt she needed to be alone, or mostly alone, to sort through.  If anyone were to look for her, or just to stumble across her, they'd find her in the godswood, bundled in a cloak and deep in thought.
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