gotexchange_mod | Comment fic meme #2

Comment fic meme #2

After the first round of

got_exchange we had a surprisingly successful comment fic meme going for a while (here's a list of all the fics that were written last time), so I thought it might be fun to do this again. (Like last time, it's posted on the mod account journal because I don't want to enable anonymous comments on the exchange community.)

I changed the layout to one that still supports comment titles. I hope it works for everyone. If there are any problems, please let me know.

A couple of rules, or rather guidelines:

- please include the pairing/character (and maybe a short prompt/kink) in the comment title - both for prompts and for fills.
- there are both show and book fans on this comm, so please warn for book spoilers beyond AGOT in the comment title.
- anonymous comments are enabled, but I'd appreciate if we kept them to a minimum. If you absolutely want to go anon, okay, but I'd rather we kept this as non-anonymous as possible.
- all prompts are welcome: smut, gen, romance, fluff, angst, het, slash ... anything goes.
- and the usual: be civil, no character/pairing bashing, no kink shaming etc.

It's perfectly fine to repost prompts from the last comment fic meme or from the exchange.

As with any kink meme, this is only fun if people also fill prompts, not if there are only requests.

Filled prompts:
Jaime/Cersei: first time
Stannis/Davos: "like sailors, swimming in the sound of it (dashed to pieces)"
Queen Shireen: Shireen comes out on top of the Game of Thrones. Three heads has the dragon, and she is part-Targaryen, after all.
Jaime/Brienne: Modern AU as cops
Jon/Sansa: kissed by fire
Viserys, Elia, Rhaenys: leave me your wake to remember you by
Stannis/Jon: things he shouldn't think - or say
Robb/Theon: we had the greatest expectations (ADWD spoilers)
Roose/Robb, crack: The Young Wolf and the Leech Lord (ASOS spoilers)
Balon/Victarion: Faithfulness
Future!Rickon/Shireen: the last night of the world
Jaime/Catelyn and Jaime/Sansa: Jaime has a secret thing for reheads
Ned/Catelyn: when it became a love match
Petyr/Lysa: Her eyes closed
Jon/Val: In which Jon does end up with Val and Winterfell (ADWD spoilers)
Gendry/Arya: role reversal
Tywin/Joanna: dominance
Stannis/Davos, comfort: small undertakings
Stannis/Jon: things he shouldn't think - or say (second fill)
Roose/Walda/Stannis, crackfic: Pink Attack (ADWD spoilers?)
Petyr/Barbrey, bitterness: Ash (ADWD spoilers)
Brandon/Lyanna: belonging to Winterfell
Daenerys/Viserys: Just a Taste
Roose/Theon, Ramsay/Theon: Bad Blood (ADWD spoilers)
Stannis/Sansa: "I am a Stark, I can be brave."
Cersei/Ned: AU in which Ned did take the Iron Throne and Cersei ended up marrying him instead of Robert
Jon/Satin, crackfic: how Jon Snow learned to stop worrying and laugh at the insinuations
Elia/Oberyn: heart's desire
Euron/Victarion: pre-series hatesex
Lysa and Catelyn after the birth of Robb: lie by the river
Roose/Theon (hints of Robb/Theon): Another man's amusement (vague ADWD spoilers?)
Jaime/Brienne, dirty talk and consensual power play: with a wonder and a wild desire
Stannis/Sansa: wedding (sequel)
Stannis/Sansa and Stannis/Davos, dancing: Wishing to be in Two Places at Once
Brandon/Barbrey, Bethany: No True Knight (ADWD spoilers)
Ned, Sansa: "Sansa was a lady at three."
Daenerys/Robb, AU: Fire, Blood, and Honour
Roose/Victarion, crackfic: When all else fails
Robb/Theon, slight Robb/Jon: War is Not a Game
Stannis/Davos from Ned's POV (hints of Robert/Ned): Making You Smile
Catelyn/Petyr: Confrontation
Stannis/Jon, fantasies: and waked half dead with nothing (ASOS spoilers)
Jaime, Arya: The Shadow
Victarion/Asha: We do not sow
Ned/Catelyn, goodbyes: Songs written with swords
Ned/Ashara: winter song
Sansa - Stoneheart: confrontation
Jon/Sansa (AFFC spoilers, prompt is spoilery in itself)
Jon/Val: with you upon the wind (ADWD spoilers)
Daenerys/VIserys, AU: When the Blood began to Show
Stannis/Davos: six perspectives, six realities
Roose/Walda, crackfic: Leeches for Wolves
Jaime/Sansa, talking about Joffrey: Ignorance and Bliss
Sansa, Rickon: The last two Starks (ADWD spoilers)
Theon/Robb: Regrets (ADWD spoilers)
Cersei/Stannis, seduction fail: Persuasion
Jon, Stannis, Devan, mentions of Davos: Through the Eyes of a Child
Sansa, Brienne: True Knights (AFFC spoilers, prompt is spoilery in itself)
Stannis/Sansa: bedding & wedding night (sequel to this)
Catelyn, Jon (slight Jon/Robb), reunion AU: Lady of Ashes (ASOS spoilers)
Sansa/Robb, AU in which they do exchange her for Jaime: The Mercy of the Frozen Ground
Tywin/Joanna: dominance (second fill)
Jon Snow/Jeyne Westerling(/Robb Stark): post-series - tell me we both matter, don't we?
Robb/Jeyne: what was it like being the queen to a Northern king? (ASOS spoilers)
Robb/Roslin Frey: Robb upholds his vow and ends up with Roslin

Multiple fills are of course welcome.

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The letters and notes come regularly from King’s Landing, some on wings and winds and some on horses clasped in leather cloaked hands, directions, commands, and always, in all of them, triumph written in each word as though the war is already won, and not just beginning.

But then for Robert, the triumph has always been in the battle before the victory, in the rush of the fight and the salty scent of blood in the air, in the thrill; he writes the hymns of the songs they will sing, writes them in the air with sword and war hammer, in the dust of the dead. Their rebellion had been born of sorrow and loss and yet Ned had never seen Robert’s eyes glint as brightly as before the surge, today we live or today we die, does it matter so much, anyway?

He’d thought nearly the same, once.

Ned Stark has never held to foolhardy bravado; a man must do his duty and serve his realm but there is no shame in fear, in trepidation and especially in caution, sometimes, on the battlefield, it is the difference between life and death, triumph and failure, that innate desire to see another dawn breaking, just one more day.

Still, he rode away to war six years ago with not bravado, but grim indifference in his heart, rode with Benjen and Jon and Robert, what little family he had left, rode away from the Riverlands and a wife he did not know and did not love, from responsibilities he had not asked for and did not want, from a future that had suddenly shifted and left him grasping in the dark. Today we live or today we die, does it matter so much, anyway?

It is far more difficult this time, he thinks, and he rests his hands on the cool windowsill and breathes in the crisp northern summer air, sweet and full of promise (full of foreboding now, somehow).

He had thought, in another year and another war, that nothing could be more terrible than that hollowness that had settled into his heart and stomach, those spaces that Brandon and Lyanna and his father had lived in, that nothing was worse than looking in a girl’s blue eyes and seeing only tepid duty reflected there (does she care, if I live or die, if I return or not? Do I care?).

It is worse, to catch that girl now a woman by surprise, a rider from King’s Landing, there is war rising, to see fear and despair and love (and still duty, family duty honor) in blue eyes that are the same, to explain to children far too young to hear such things why he must leave, to know that they don’t understand (Sansa is so young, still, would she remember him if he did not return, his little girl of spring?). It is far worse to leave with a full heart than an empty one, to know what is left behind, what his back is to in the heart of battle.

(Triumph is in Robert’s every word, come write another song and smash another fleet, Ned, and does he not worry that his son, his boy prince, will never know the sound of his voice?)

On the bed, Catelyn shivers suddenly in her sleep, her lips puckering into a frown, and he smiles faintly by the window. The room always must be so damnably hot, when you take a bride from the south, he thinks, and his mother had always said that marriage was about compromise. He leaves the window open, savoring the feel of the cool breeze against his back, but returns to the bed, tugging the furs higher around his wife and slipping his arm around her, pressing her back against his warmth and resting his hand gently against the soft swell of her belly. (Another child he will not see born, and he remembers holding Sansa in his arms moments after she came into the world, and feels the loss much more keenly, this time; another child he may never know, another child he leaves his wife to carry and birth alone, he will go fight his war and she will stay here and fight her own.)

Compromise, he thinks, and after a few moments Cat stops shivering and is still.

Edited 2012-03-10 05:27 (UTC)

She had shivered when he had showed her Robert’s letter and seal, one hand to the curve of her stomach, and he had wanted so much in that moment to tell her that all would be well, that he would not leave, that their family would stay together, that she should not worry and that he would never give her cause to worry (he does not say it, and she does not ask him, he would not be Eddard Stark if he did and she would not be his formidable lady, and all he can offer is I am sorry, Cat.)

Her fingers brush his wrist, tracing an old scar there, and he glances at her, her eyes are hooded and thick with sleep but she is awake, and she looks back at him, the dim throw of the candlelight making her eyes seem almost black and bottomless.

“I am sorry,” he says (he echoes, the words feel empty now, somehow). “I didn’t mean to wake you.” He keeps his arm around her, her body fitting comfortably and familiarly to his (he wonders if Robert, king and the desire of every maid in Westeros, has ever known this, the simple contentment of holding someone you know, someone who fits, someone whose lines and curves your own body has memorized).

“I know,” she answers quietly and she frowns at the scars on his wrist, on his arm; she turns in his grip, studying him, a healed wound on his chest, one against his shoulder, and he sees the worry in her eyes (there will be more, they both know, before the battle is done, more scars and more worry, more of everything except peace).

“Come home safe, Ned,” she says, “to all of us.” There is a desperation in her voice that had not been there six years ago, when he had left her in a summer castle, his stranger bride; come home safe, my lord, she had said, and she had meant the words, he knows, but there is a catch there now, an undercurrent, come home, I need you, I need you to come home.

He kisses her suddenly, fiercely, the fingers on the hand not resting on the swell of their newest child catching in her bright hair (he had thought, even then, even when he did not know her, that her hair was beautiful, that she was beautiful) before tracing along the curve of her cheek.

“I will,” he says, and he thinks of promises kept and broken, and that last time he promised her nothing at all, and he presses his lips to the inside of her wrist now, her long fingers brushing against a rough bearded cheek. “I promise.”

Robert lives for the glory of the battle, writing the hymns the singers will play with his sword and hammer in the air, they will write ballads of him, but Ned thinks of promises and has no desire to ever become a song.

Edited 2012-03-10 05:38 (UTC)

Gaaah. This was lovely! Thank you for filling the prompt! It was wonderfully bittersweet.

Wheeee, thank you! My apologies again that I seem to only be able to write People Being Sad. XD At least we know this time (THIS TIME SOB) he does come home (and without any extra kids), and everything is fine with Arya.

I love this! Ned's thoughts seemed so authentic and in character. The contrast between saying farewell before the first war and doing so this time was very poignant. It would be so much more difficult now that he's come to love his wife and growing family. That bit about wondering if Sansa would even remember him was so touching and makes me think of Rickon's future, likely not remembering either of his parents very well. I also liked the contrast between Robert and Ned, how a man can be remembered for war feats and enjoy numerous conquests but that is hollow comfort compared to Ned's more fulfilling if less glorified life.

The interaction between Ned and Cat was also great. It's so true to their characters that he would not refuse his duty, and she would not ask him to, even if that is what they would prefer. The references to his battle scars and her beautiful hair were perfect. I love the theme that they fit each other because that's part of what makes them such a good couple. Your writing style is delightful to read, and I think your final line was fantastic with Ned wishing never to become a song.

Wheeee, thank you! I'm glad you thought Ned was in character, I haven't done much with him before and I am much more comfortable writing in a female voice, so that made me happy! I do think this departure would be much more difficult. And ugh, I can't even with Rickon not remembering his family! :( I prompted something earlier about a post-series fic where Sansa is filling in the blanks about their family because yeah, he probably won't remember much about them which makes me super sad. (Somewhere someone did a meme with Rickon and Bran with a quote from Peter Pan, "I think I had a mother once." "What was she like?" "I forget." I CAN'T HANDLE MY SADS ALL MY CREYS.)

I love comparing and contrasting Robert and Ned - they grew up together but are SO different, and led such different lives in the end. And I now feel like I have to bring Catelyn's hair into everything and anything I write about these two because I think that line in ASOS made me more sad than anything else in the series.

Thank you again for the wonderful comment! :D

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Comment fic meme #2

FILL: Ned/Catelyn, goodbyes, 'songs written with swords' (pt 1/2)

FILL: Ned/Catelyn, goodbyes, 'songs written with swords' (pt 2/2)

Re: FILL: Ned/Catelyn, goodbyes, 'songs written with swords' (pt 2/2)

Re: FILL: Ned/Catelyn, goodbyes, 'songs written with swords' (pt 2/2)

Re: FILL: Ned/Catelyn, goodbyes, 'songs written with swords' (pt 2/2)

Re: FILL: Ned/Catelyn, goodbyes, 'songs written with swords' (pt 2/2)