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Married At First Sight Westerosi Style

Chapter Text

Application by Proxy


Sansa's Application

Arya felt justified in downloading the application from A&E. After all, it was one of Sansa's favorite reality shows. In fact, the two of them had watched it together for the first four seasons. It had been their designated sister bonding activity, along with stuffed crust pizza topped with double cheese, pepperoni, black olives, and copious amounts of Arbor Gold. The application itself was straightforward. Of course, Arya knew all of the answers to Sansa’s life questions. It was just basic information, so she didn't feel like she was disclosing anything really personal. Hey, you can Google everything about anybody. Read their whole life story from their social media posts. Or just lurk on their Facebook page long enough to find out all of the unfortunate details of somebody's life. This was simple, not even as much info as a fitness club application. Just pertinent contact info, education history and career goals. Not even as much info as a resume. So Arya decided not to feel guilty, when she uploaded it to Married At First Sight. How many thousands of people would be sending applications? Probably every single person in Westeros. Nothing ventured nothing gained. Besides, Sansa had been going through so many terrible relationships in the past few years. Arya figured this couldn't hurt. We could actually get a good laugh out of this, when we watch the next season and look at the losers that were chosen.



Jon's Application 

When Dany saw the commercial announcing that Married At First Sight was coming to do a season in Westeros she was delighted. This show was her secret indulgence. Watching was like a guilty pleasure. She and her female office staff loved critiquing the couples and adding what they would and wouldn’t do. Relationship mistakes were so easy to spot. Then, she thought of Jon. Why not?  She had already introduced her nephew to all of the eligible women she knew. Dany was at her wits end with him. Jon just worked day after day until late, ran or worked out and immersed himself in everything and anything history related. He actually read books, not just e-books, actual leather bound books he had inherited after his parents had died. Dany was his only surviving relative. She felt responsible for him. He always loved a challenge. This would be quite a novel situation for anybody. With some hesitation, she downloaded the application and filled it out. Maybe, just maybe. On the other hand, every reality fanatic in Westeros would be interested, so there were probably tons of applications. What would the chances be? At least she was being a good aunt, in her own way. She would try anything for her Jon. He was smart, handsome, and lonely. He wanted the one thing neither she, nor money could buy, family. Perhaps, he could get matched up with an educated young lady with a multitude of brothers and sisters. Instant family. That would be her selling point, if he got past the initial application process. Dany clicked upload.

Chapter Text

You Did What???


Sansa's Email


Sansa didn't even notice the email from A&E for two days.  She had just spun passed it on her phone, not really processing the subject line: So You Want To Get Married At First Sight?  It wasn't until, she and her colleagues were standing under the trees, watching the kids at recess when Missandei said, “Did you know they're going to film Married At First Sight right here in Westeros.”, that she remembered seeing it.

“No I didn't. I've been a little busy this semester. I hate to say it, but Statistics is kicking my ass. I'm a little worried because this summer, I have to use it when I do my Evaluation and Testing internship at University.”

“You’ve got too much going on to watch TV.” said Missandei.

“I can always take a 60 minute pizza break. My sister Arya and I love to veg out and watch. It’s one of the few shows we can agree on. So when does it start?”

“It's going to air in August and it shows six weeks of the couples’ lives together, so they probably will be casting in April. I guess. I'm not a television executive. I'm just a kindergarten teacher.”

“So that's pretty soon. Arya and I think it's really hysterical. I can't believe that people consent to set themselves up for that kind of potential disaster, display it all, and play it out for everyone to see.”

“Maybe they're desperate.”

“Maybe they've just had shitty relationships and figured this might be as good a shot as any.”  

Sansa reflected for a moment, thinking back to her own failed relationships and the jerks she had dated. Yeah, wouldn't it be nice if they had all been screened. If I’d known from the onset that there had been no hope, I probably wouldn't even have bothered.

Then she remembered she had an email from A&E in her inbox. After she had gotten all of her kids safely on their buses, she went to her laptop and checked her mail. She had to search back a couple of days, but there it was. An email from A&E, The Arts and Entertainment Channel. Probably just an advert.  Sansa tapped it open. The email read:

Congratulations, Miss Sansa Stark.

You have been selected from among our pool of applicants to fill out a detailed questionnaire. We would like to know more about you, specifically your expectations and requirements for a potential life mate. Please read and consider all of the questions carefully. Download the attached form and get it back to us as soon as possible. We await your response.


The Married At First Sight Casting Team.

They await my response! I've got only one response…… Ar-y-aaaaa! I'm gonna get you when I see you tonight, little weaseling punk-ass, so you think you’re so funny, such a prankster, you’re dead meat, sis.



Jon's Email (Forwarded)


Jon didn't even receive the email. It went directly to his aunt.  It read:

Congratulations, Mr. Jon Targaryen.

You have been selected from among our pool of applicants to fill out a detailed questionnaire. We would like to know more about you, specifically your expectations and requirements for a potential life mate. Please read and consider all of the questions carefully.

Download the attached form and get it back to us as soon as possible. We await your response.


The Married At First Sight Casting Team.

Dany figured it would go directly to Jon’s spam since it was from an unrecognized sender. Jon hated spam so he set his parameters high. He didn’t like junk or spam in his work email. Such a serious young man. If she forwarded it to him, he would definitely receive it. She took a couple of seconds recapping her good intentions to herself and then forwarded the message to him at his work email. Jon would definitely open it, when it appeared in his inbox. Now all she had to do was sit patiently in her office and wait. She didn't know how long it would take. If Jon was in his office, it would be a matter of minutes. If he was on the floor of the stock exchange, it would be a couple of hours or more. He never let himself be interrupted before the closing bell. Dany sat back at her desk and gazed out the window at the busy harbor of Kings Landing. She like the penthouse office. When things got crazy, she could always walk outside and sit in the garden that helped cool the building.  She heard his precise steps approaching her office by their personal stairwell. She started to countdown from 10. He’d be there before she reached 2.

“What the Seven Hells is this, Aunt Dany?”

“Didn't you read it?”

“Yes. But, I still don't have a clue. What did you do? Did you enter me in some kind of bachelor-fest again? Didn't I let you auction me off last year for one of your causes?”

“Must I remind you, that was for my charity at the hospital? You are a Targaryen. Sometimes, you have to suck it up.”

“I’ve tried to wipe that day out of my mind.  I had to go on a river cruise with Walda Frey. It was horrendous. All she did was eat and eat and eat. And when she wasn’t eating, she was talking about pie.”

“Her family made a generous donation for that afternoon. You are expected to do those kinds of things, unfortunately. It seems as though you survived unscathed.”

“I survived. Although, I did think about jumping ship and trying to swim to shore. I was afraid she’d jump in after me and she’s large enough to be pretty buoyant. She didn’t float my boat.”

“This is nothing like that. I did this for you.”

“What exactly did you do for me? Some other contest on a TV show from what I can ascertain.”

“OK. Jon, I sent an application in your name to be a contestant on the reality TV show Married At First Sight. They’re filming here in Westeros this season.”

“You’re joking. You are absolutely joking!”

“No, I'm not I'm worried about you. You don't date. You haven't had a girlfriend since university. I want you to be happy, that's all. I'm beyond myself with worry. I know this is kind of silly, but look there's a science behind all of this.”

“What do you mean science? Now I know you've lost your mind, Aunt Dany.”

“I'm totally serious. There’s a long questionnaire that you must fill out. It’s part of a screening process. There is a panel of experts that sift through all of the applicants to find someone who is a possible match for you. I've watched this show. It’s actually quite interesting. Sometimes they match people up according to similarities and sometimes differences, but the most important thing is they look for people that complement each other. They try to find people that can meet each other's needs.”

“And what needs do I have that aren’t being met? Sex?”

“I just keep thinking maybe, they could find you a lovely, intelligent, young lady from a big family and that family could give you everything you've always wanted. Everything I can't give you, brothers, sisters, parents. A big happy family.”

“Aunt Dany stop torturing yourself. Don’t you realize, no experts, no reality TV show can give me back what I lost. What we both lost.”

“But, would you give it a try for me?”

“That depends. Is the questionnaire as long as the eHarmony profile you made me do last year?”

“I don’t have a clue, but I’ll do it with you.”

“By the way, what ever happened with eHarmony?”


“Why? You’re so handsome.”

“I answered NO to every YES question and YES to every NO question, made up a few crazy statements about myself and put up a candid photo of Walder Frey as my profile pix.”

“You are too good to be true and too mischievous. What a bad boy. I’m supervising you, when you fill this out.”

“OK, Aunt Dany, but I’m not guaranteeing results.”

“Just fill out the questionnaire. I already sent them a picture of the real you. Gods forbid, they Googled your name and came up with a picture of Walder Frey. You are still a naughty boy, Jon Targaryen.”


Chapter Text

Fireworks and Mayhem


On her way home, Sansa shot Arya a text.

“You are on my shit list.”

This probably wasn’t the best idea. Now, the element of surprise was gone. Arya would take her sweet time coming home from her Bio study group. Unless, she wanted ‘splain herself. She had some major sistersplaining to do.  All I want to know is WTF!!!

Sansa went upstairs to shower and change. She never kept her work clothing on. All those little grubby hands smelling like crayons and boogers. Skirt and top in the wash. After a good scrub and a long think, she decided to reread the email and take a look at the questionnaire. It was long and complex. Kind of evaluational. Maybe, I should do it for the experience. Still no Arya. Maybe Arya sent the application for fun. She probably never thought it would get to the next step.

After all, they watched it religiously. So it kind of made sense.  She might even have been trying to be a good sister. Arya hated Sansa’s ex-boyfriends, especially Joffrey because he had made her cry and embarrassed the shit out of her. Sansa felt her initial anger beginning to dissipate. She still needed an explanation because if this was one of Arya’s pranks………

“Are you still ready to kill me, I brought pizza?” Arya yelled from the front door. “If you are then, I’ll just eat the pizza myself.”

“No and no don’t, I’m hungry, what’s on the ZA??”

“Your fav’s. It’s stuffed crust too.”

“I’m coming. You better be ready to sistersplain.”

Sansa came downstairs. Arya was already in the kitchen, plating the pizza and pouring tequila shots. Arya had a hopeful look and seemed ready to talk. Sansa went to the cabinet and got the salt, then grabbed a lime from the fruit bowl on the counter. Arya produced a knife. Sansa tossed the lime to Arya.

“I’ll stick it with the pointy end.” Arya laughed as she cut the lime into slices.

“Lick you hand, so I can salt you up.” Sansa said, holding the salt over Arya’s head.

“The fleshy space between your index and thumb is called the thenar space.”

“Shut up, Miss Bio major, lick that webbed hand of yours, so we can do this shot.”

“Thenar space licked, apply salt.”

“1, 2, 3, salt, tequila, lime………. Explode.”

“Yeah.” They both laughed. “Come on, let’s eat before we forget how.”

“Arya, what’s the deal with this Married At First Sight application?”

“I submitted your name and basic information. It was kind of a joke, but not really. I even talked to Mom about it.”

“Now, I’m mortified. It was silly, but I get it. What did you say to Mom? Well, Mom, since Sansa is so lame, with those asshole guys she keeps dating….”

“Nothing like that, not at all.”

“So what then?”

“I told her I didn’t want to hurt your feelings and that maybe a different approach would.….?”

“Because, my approach isn’t working. Was that it? Because I’m just too dumb!”

“Because, you are too nice, too ready to see the good in everybody. Because, you want to believe that there is a perfect life just waiting out there for you. Because you still believe in Prince Charming.”

“No I don’t.”

“Yes, you do. Snotarella. Why do you spend all day wiping snot noses?”

“I don’t wipe snot, that’s drool from the inability to adequately accomplish lip closure due to CP. I’m helping kids to be included in the classrooms they belong in like everybody else.”

“See what I mean.”

“No, I don’t. That’s beside the point, snot, drool.”

“You make it all mean something. Sansa, the Inclusion Specialist.”

“It does mean something.”

“I know it does. So does Mom. That’s why.”

“Wait, somewhere this all stopped making sense. You sent in an application to Married At First Sight because I wipe snot and drool? Did you just call me Snotarella?”

“Yeah, I guess I did. Sorry. Let’s do another shot. Then it will make sense, I think.”

Two shots and two slices of ZA later, Sansa and Arya were filling out the questionnaire together.

“You can’t say NO to Do you believe in love at first sight? You won’t get picked.”

“Right. Do I want to get picked?”


Chapter Text

Jon and his Aunt Dany sat on the veranda of her home overlooking Blackwater Bay. The sun had set and stars were beginning to appear. They drank rum and Cokes while Jon pointed out Draco, The Dragon, Ursa Major, Ursa Minor, and Lupus, The Wolf, as they appeared bright in contrast with the waning moon. He had his laptop opened to the Married At First Sight questionnaire. Her personal chef was grilling burgers.

“Do I have a favorite song?”

“How about ‘I’m Sexy and I Know It.”

“More like Red Hot Chili Peppers, Californication or Soul to Squeeze.”


“Never mind.”

“Now, that’s Nirvana, I know that one. Keep going. Favorite movie?”

“Easy. Pompeii, 300, Reservoir Dogs, Pulp Fiction and Natural Born Killers.”

“Those aren’t very romantic.”

“What do you want me to say? Twilight? That’s romantic if you’re a preteen.”

“What about Wild At Heart?”

“Can I make a list?”

“Can’t hurt. Now, favorite book?”

“Where The Wild Things Are. I’m not budging on that one.”

“Not even for War and Peace?”


“Favorite TV show?”

“South Park or Ancient Aliens.”

“That won’t do. Are you listening to me?”

“Yes, but I’m ignoring you. Can I eat my burger?”

“Just eat and type.”


“So think and eat. What do you expect in a wife?”

“Got this one. I want a stunning, sexy, highly intelligent woman who wants me. She will want to, oops….Aunt Dany…. all the time.”

“That’s too generic, Jon.”

“Honestly, I want someone who will love me when I’m stressed or moody. Someone, I can take care of, someone who needs me. I want to be a knight in shining armor. I want her to be my reason for living, not this fucking bank. Sorry Aunt Dany. I want to give her everything she wants and things she doesn’t even know she wants. Somebody that tells me that every breath I take is important to her and I’ll tell her the same. Someone that I can wake up with every morning and say “You know, you make my life complete.” A woman, who has eyes, I can lose myself in and not care. Someone to hold every night and never let go. I want to be able to lay my head on her chest and count her heartbeats until I fall asleep. Or curl up on the couch with her and she’ll scratch my head when I’ve got a headache from work. And she will be there waiting for me and I’ll always be in a rush to get home, just to kiss her.”

“Gods, Jon. I’ve never heard you say anything so romantic in your adult life.”

“No one ever asked.”

Chapter Text

Pepper Schwartz, Calvin Robertson and Rachel DeAlto sat around the conference table at the Westeros Grand Hilton waiting. The three producers Chris Coelen, Sam Dean and Gena McCarthy all exchanged nervous glances. Clearly something was about to change.

“So what’s up, Chris? We have almost finalized our couples selections.” asked Pepper.

“We find that we are in need of another expert. An expert on the history and culture of Westeros.” answered Sam Dean.

“That makes sense. We can’t realistically apply our American values to another culture. We could use the input.” added Rachel DeAlto.

“Westerosi cultural values are different. In fact, they have very ancient polytheistic religions. Except for that R’hllor religion which is a transplant.” said Pastor Robertson.

“Right our whole value system doesn’t even apply in the same way.” continued Rachel.

“We had to make modifications when we brought the show to America from Denmark.” reminded Gena. “So we found ourselves an expert on Westeros. We thought he’d be here by now.”

“So who is it?”

Just then the doors to the meeting room opened. All heads swiveled to observe the entrance of the new member of their team. Professor Tyrion Lannister. He sauntered into the room with a braggadocio of a conquering army. There was not a self effacing thing about him. He was a Little Person with the personality of a rock star. Before anybody could stand to greet him or any other common courtesies he began to introduce himself as if their lives depended on it.

“Greetings, I am Tyrion Lannister, Professor of History at the University of Westeros, Department Chair of Historical Preservation and Cultural Peculiarities. I am also, the descendent, of the descendent of the fucking, I can’t remember just how far back it goes, descendent of Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock, Warden of the West, The Hand Of the King, and blood of Jamie the Kingslayer, the mad Queen Cersei and Tyrion, the Imp. Any questions?”

“Is there anything left to ask?” queried Pepper.

“Why yes. Where are the drinks?” asked Tyrion.

“What would you like? Professor Lannister?”

“Scotch, neat and a place to plug in my laptop. Good thing you have the projector I asked for. I have a presentation for you all. Pardon my PowerPoint.”

Tyrion was brought his drink while everybody else drank bottled water. He began with an introduction of the great houses of Westeros. He gave a detailed description of the many conflicts and battles over the Iron Throne. Finally, he got to the point and the possible conflict.

“I realize this was an open casting call. Every single man and woman must have submitted an application and it was up to your scientific methods and expert panel to select your participants. What you don’t know, is that there is an undercurrent of animosity that still exists today among the great houses’ descendants. Thankfully, your statistical personality analysis only lead you to one faux pas.  This is not your professional error. It is part of the flow of complex historical interrelations of past and present. Edmund Burke said, ‘Those who don't know history are doomed to repeat it.’ Kurt Vonnegut thus concluded, ‘We're doomed to repeat the past no matter what. That's what it is to be alive.’ You have accidently chosen to stage a repetition of one of the momentous events in Westeros’ medieval past. You are bringing together a Targaryen and a Stark. You don’t even know what that means. Not your fault.”

“That’s exactly, what you are here for. You know this information.”

“Yes, I drink and I know things. That’s what I’m all about. Shall I continue?”

“Please do.” said Chris Coelen.

 “Prince Rhaegar Targaryen caused a war when he won the tourney at Harrenhal and presented a crown of blue roses to Lady Lyanna Stark rather than his own wife. Later, the two eloped and Lyanna Stark died in childbirth. And on and on and on. What I’m trying to tell you is that these young people are direct descendants of these royal houses, no matter how many centuries in the past. Westeros loves its history, its kings, queens, ladies, lords and knights. We have evolved since those barbaric days. Thank the gods, we are have a parliamentary system. The Mad Queen Cersei behaved in such a deplorable way there are no more Kings or Queens, even as figureheads. But, we love our ancient houses. Everyone in Westeros, traces themselves back to those simpler times.”

“So, we should discard these two participants?”

“Never, you could blow your past ratings through the roof. One hundred percent viewership per household.”

“As a producer, I can see where you are going with this. I like it.” said Gena.

“Give the people of Westeros a prince and princess.” laughed Tyrion. “Give them their dreams.”

Chapter Text

“We’re picking Mom up at the airport in an hour. You better get going.”

Arya was already dressed in her favorite X-Files t shirt, boyfriend jeans and black Chelsea boots. Sansa was trying to put together something more appropriate so she settled on a pink polo and slim black jeans and pink flip flops with oversized pink grosgrain bows.

“I’m almost ready.”

“Make sure you’re wearing clean underwear.”

“I’m not going to get hit by a bus, thought this is be going to pretty traumatic.”

“Hence the clean undies, Sans.”

“I can’t believe, I’m doing this. It goes against everything…….”

“Everything what. You’ve had lousy relationships. How is this going to hurt? Think of it like performance art. You might even get lucky.”

“Yeah, like I been so lucky already. Maybe I could get hit by a truck or something and call it a day.”

“Nope, not having that. Don’t you realize the sheer odds that you got chosen. Just go with this.”

“It couldn’t be any worse than dating J0ffrey or Ramsey.”

“Those two prize asswipes.”      

“You know what, I’m just going to put those two in a box, lock it up and throw it out the window on the highway. Really, fuck that, I can’t go around having a self indulgent pity party because of those two freaks.”

“That’s right. Fuck ‘em. Let’s get Mom and shop for your dress.”



“You WILL need to deviate from your usual protocols. You usually supply the venue and …………?” prompted Professor Lannister.

“Usually everything, however the groom buys the rings and the bride, her dress. And they usually buy each other some kind of symbolic gift, to be delivered before they meet.” Pepper started to explain.

“No, it’s not going to work that way. Dresses, rings, gifts, I don’t care about those things. All of these couples should be allowed to use the Sept of Baelor. The building has been restored to its original splendor. This will also garner the good will of the people of Westeros. This isn’t how your show usually rolls, so to speak. Trust me, they will be enthralled.” continued Lannister.

“That sound logical, we need to honor traditions. I actually like that idea. Guess, there is no generic here.” agreed Pepper.

“Now, you are starting to get the idea. My main concern is the Stark and Targaryen couple. Listen. These people are different. Like I said, they’re descendants of descendants of descendants. OK? So, you're going to let them make their own choices or I guarantee you they will not go through with this. And you'll end up with only two plebeian couples, who nobody's going to give a shit about, when you could have royalty. All right? Don't let them know you're treating them differently. Just give in to their SUGGESTIONS.”

“But, it’s going to be obvious.”

Can’t you TV people do your magic? Aren’t you used to dealing with power brokers?”

“No, we’re just making a TV show. There’s none of this extra nonsense.”

 “Well, you are in for plenty. Dany Targaryen, for example. She’s the aunt of your groom. She is, for all intents and purposes, the queen of the financial world here in Westeros. An inherited title of course. Her brother Rhaegar and his wife Elia, Jon’s parents, died in a small plane accident on their way back to Kings Landing from their home in Dragonstone. Fortunately at the time, Jon was in boarding school. This left his only sister, Dany in charge of everything including their son. She’s very very possessive. She has no surviving children of her own. No birthing hips as they say. She’s a very petite woman. She, of course has her own backstory. She was married to Khal Drogo, the General of the Dothraki army.  He was assassinated, blah, blah, blah….. The shock caused her to miscarry. She came back to Kings Landing, a young widow. In other words, all she has is Jon. I believe she's raised him since he was about ten.”

“This is not what we bargained for. We just thought, an exotic location, interesting people a strong Season 5.” sighed Pepper exasperatedly. “There’s more, right? So what about the Stark girl? One of the old families of Westeros as well?”

 “Guess what, about the Stark girl.  The oldest family in Westeros. Their blood line goes all the way back, as far back as it can possibly go. They were once called the Kings of Winter. Oh, there is so much you don’t know! I brought each of you a copy of my succinct 2,000 page History of Westeros for your bedtime reading enjoyment. Even though she's a sweet little first-grade teacher, her father is an MP, Lord Eddard Stark, and her mother oversees The Winterfell Foundation, a charitable organization that oversees the historical preservation of the ruins of the castles of the North. Her mother Catelyn Tully Stark, is nobody to fuck with.”

“Well, I wish that we had known a little bit more about these people. Still, they themselves are just two young people on a journey for love and they will be treated as such. It’s the history they unwittingly carry with them that is going to make things quite interesting.” reminded Pepper.

“My good lady, everything about Westeros is quite interesting. So please understand, I’m not telling you to totally deviate from your usual programming, but if you want the people of Westeros to watch, allow the Starks and Targaryens to have input. Remember, neither of them will ask, they will simply tell you what they are going to do.”

“Thank you so much Professor Lannister. We truly appreciate your insight. I’m sure we will be relying on you for insights.”



What kind of dress are you looking for? The bridal consultant asked Sansa.

“I want her to wear a mermaid gown.” said Arya “Simple but sexy.”

“Something traditional, after all, you’re getting married in the Sept.” reminded Catelyn.

“I was hoping for a ball gown. Kind of lacy with a full skirt.”

“How will he see your shape?”

“He doesn’t need to see her shape.”

“Yes, he does. If she’s in some poufy dress then, he might think she has a fat ass, I mean butt and ….”

“He’s not marrying me for my butt. He’s marrying me because we are a complementary pairing.”

“So, what if he’s fat? Or ugly. You know that could be a possibility. You could end up with some goofy looking guy.”

“Wait a minute, you’re the one that got me into this. You should have thought of these things, ARYA!”

“Well, I didn’t. It seemed like a good idea at the time. I guess there is a possibility he’s might not be that handsome.”

“Then, I won’t marry him. I’ll make you marry him. He doesn’t know what I look like. Besides, Prince Charming is always handsome.”

“Who said anything about Prince Charming? Sansa. Are you sure you really want to do this? Maybe this isn’t the best idea after all.” worried Catelyn.

Sansa wanted to try on every dress in the Bridal Salon, but she had a deadline.  The wedding was a week and a half away, so that limited her choices. There wasn’t time for a dress to be ordered. She would have to find a gown that could be altered to fit.

“Don’t worry, we will find you a dress. In fact, I have an idea. We have samples that came in earlier today and I know that you will like at least one of them. I pulled it out this morning and it is breathtaking.” said the bridal consultant. “I’m going to get it for you.”

“Arya needs a dress and so do you, Mom. You two better get something. You’re going to be on TV. I was thinking that if I had bridesmaids they would wear yellow.”

“I’m not wearing freakin’ yellow, especially not on TV!”

“Arya! We’ll find a compromise. Sansa, you can have yellow flowers in your bouquet and on your cake. You know the boys won’t wear yellow bow ties. Your father’s tuxedo is charcoal grey. Robb has a similar one. They boys have grey suits.”

“But what about me? I’m not wearing a grey dress.”

“I have just the perfect dresses for both you.” said the bridal consultant when she returned with a large garment bag. “Mrs. Stark, I have a beautiful deep grey chiffon gown with a crisscross bodice. You young lady, I have a perfect silvery white lace and grey silk dress that will match both your mother’s dress and this one.”

She unzipped the garment bag and removed the most stunning white lace and tulle ball gown. The dress was slightly off the shoulder, but still ladylike enough for the Sept. Sansa gasped.

“I never even thought of a dress like this. I hadn’t even thought about wedding dresses. The lace shimmers like silver and the pattern is so modern.”

“Yes, the lace is made with pure white and silver thread. Notice the pattern is floral, without being overwhelming. The skirt is layers on layers of white tulle.”

As Sansa put it on, with the help of consultant, she realized this was the perfect dress. I can’t believe this is happening. Maybe, this is my fairytale after all.

“This dress will look perfect with the maiden’s cloak, I having made. Now all I need, is to make sure the sigil is embroidered correctly and all the foxtails match.”

“You must be joking about a cloaking ceremony.”

“Oh no, I’m not.”

“I don’t care if this is for TV. This is a real marriage. We’re doing this the right way. Tradition rules.”

“But, Mom.”

There goes the fairytale!

Chapter Text

Bachelor Party, Aunt Dany Style


“Jon, you need a new tux. I was online looking at Chanel and Dior, but I didn’t see anything I liked. So we are going out.”

“But I don’t have time.”

“And those friends of yours. I hope they clean up well. This is TV, after all.”

“Who said I was asking them?”

“Who said you aren’t? Jorah is accompanying me. You know, I better check on him as well. He tends toward that shabby chic look.”

“Well, you are not dressing up my friends.”

“Oh, yes, I am. They’re not coming in T shirts and shorts.”

“IF, they were even coming. I’m not dragging them into this.”

“Have you even told them?”

“I did mention that I was going to be busy for a while.”

“What do you mean busy for a while? You are getting married.”

“My friends are going to laugh at me.”

“No they're not.”

“Believe me, they are. They're already, poor Jon, his only date is his Siri and she doesn't even give him what he wants.”

“Speaking of what you want. Jon, wait a minute, you told me you wanted to be part of a family so you decided to take this chance. Don’t chicken out now.”

“My friends are going to think I’m crazy. I’m not chickening out. I’m just a bit uncomfortable with this, now that its actually happening.”

“That’s why you need your friends. Your life isn’t ending, you’re adding to it. You have to bring this young lady into your life, if you want her to bring you into hers. Share. Share this event with the family you have created, your friends.”

“It’s a TV event!”

“What’s it going to look like? This young lady will have her whole family there and then on the other side of the aisle: Jorah and I, and of course, Davos.”

“You’re pulling Davos into this? What did he do to you?”

“Come on, he's been like a father to you. He’s been our trusted advisor.  Come on now, you're bringing your buddies. I'm not gonna have it any other way.”

“Aunt Danny why do you make things so difficult?”

“I make things so difficult and you're just a piece of cake right? Sure, it’s a TV event, but after all the filming, you are going home with a new person in your life. I know you. Secretly, you are pinning your hopes and dreams on this. You even said so.”

“Why are you always right?”

“Because I am. If you don't want to go shopping, I’ll just get my stylist to take care of the rest. Text, the guys and get them over to your apartment ASAP. It’s going to take a few days to get them fitted and groomed.”

“What should I tell them?”

“Tell them you’re having a bachelor party!”

Jon texted Sam, Edd, Grenn, Pyp and Davos. “HELP!”

He got five simultaneous texts in return. “What’s up?”

“Need my bro-crew. 8pm my apt.” replied Jon.

“OK” texted Pyp.

“Sure thing” replied Grenn

“Why? Never mind” asked Edd.

“Always bud” replied Sam.

“Logistics???” sent Davos.

By 8:10, all the guys had convened at Jon’s apartment in the newly gentrified area of Flea Bottom. He had ordered plenty of pizza and had stopped at 7-11 and picked up 4 cases of Corona and a dozen limes.

“Guys, I need your help. I’m going to be honest, not evasive this time. My Aunt, of course, my Aunt, send an application to Married At First Sight.” confessed Jon.

“You’re joking, right.” laughed Pyp.

“No, it gets worse, I got chosen.” continued Jon. “I didn’t know how to explain it without looking stupid.”

“We’re your friends, we’re not going to break your balls too bad.” said Grenn.

“Maybe, you’re not. I am, sure as shit!” joked Edd.

“She only meant well.” sighed Jon.

“I’ve seen a bit of the show on TV with my mom. It’s not the worst thing that could happen to you.” added Sam.

“Considering how Siri rejects you.” continued Edd.

“Here’s the thing, you all are coming with me. On the show, I mean. You know to the ceremony. Aunt Dany wants to make sure you are all groomed. You know…… to her standards.”

“So all this pizza and beer is a bribe?” asked Pyp.

“I’ll take the bribe. Any tequila?” joked Grenn.

“If you want it. We’re going to need it.” added Jon.


Jon took a deep breath before he delivered this blow to his buddys. They might just book out the door by the time he finished his next sentence and he knew it. I’d run, if I were in their places.

“Aunt Dany’s stylist, Daario Naharis will be over soon with suits and a couple of barbers.”


“The ceremony is Saturday and it might take a couple of days to shape you guys’ up.” explained Jon

“I’ve already got a suit.” said Davos.

“Yeah, that’s what she’s afraid of. Everybody has to look perfect.  Aunt Dany, perfect.” said Jon.

“You mean perfect for our CEO. That’s going to take some doing.” stated Sam, matter of factly.

“I’m not cutting my hair.” argued Edd.

“You can tell your CEO, yourself, she’s on her way over.” laughed Jon.

When Dany, Jorah, and Daario and his crew arrived 45 minutes later the mood had changed. Enough beer and tequila had almost convinced the guys that at least new suits were in order to support their bro. Daario set up two grooming stations and two fitting stations in Jon’s spacious apartment. Clearly, he had a plan and a strategy. He had four absolutely stunning women assistants. No one objected to getting measured for their suits, especially when it came to their pants.

Dany walked around giving smiles and saying nothing. She just nodded in agreement. She knew her biggest problem would be Jorah. He would do anything she asked as long as he thought it was his idea. He was grumbling, but allowing Daario’s assistant to measure him for a suit.

“Jorah, dear, you could get a dark blue suit.” Dany whispered in his ear as she slide her hand down his arm. Their fingers touched and entwined.

“I didn’t know there had to be a color theme. Isn’t that a bride thing?” he said and pulled her close to him.

“Well, blue would be so complementary to that lovely yellow dress you helped me pick out. Remember?” she breathed into his ear.

“Lovely isn’t exactly the word, My Khaleesi.” he whispered, bending to kiss her neck.

“Excuse me, Aunt Dany, do we all have to get haircuts? The guys want to know.” interrupted Jon.

Dany stepped away from Jorah and walked into the center of the room. She was clearly going to make a ruling. They all already knew the answer.

“Will you all stop being a bunch of whiney pants? We are doing this for Jon. Put your egos aside, gentlemen. I want clean nails, trimmed beards, and if you don’t want to cut your precious hair, then it better be in a man bun. Are you all going to rock a man bun?”

“Ummmm……. can I just go with a ponytail? asked Davos.

“Yeah, let the groom rock his man bun.” cheered Edd as he downed another beer.

Chapter Text

Wedding Jitters  Part 1


When the Maiden Cloak and the other items arrived, Sansa realized this was really happening. Tomorrow. She would be getting married tomorrow. Much to her surprise, the cloak didn’t have a huge direwolf embroidered on the back. Instead, the fabric was a subtle brocade of greys, silver, and white featuring direwolves sprinkled within an Art Nouveau flower pattern that complimented the lace on Sansa’s wedding gown. Thankfully, her mother had been persuaded that since it was so warm in Kings Landing, no fur trim was necessary.

Also, in the package from Winterfell were her gifts for her unknown groom. According to the show, the bride was supposed to give her groom a gift that expressed her expectations for the future of their marriage. A symbol of her hopes and dreams. Her mom had insisted that the family would be adding a gift as well.  Her parents had selected a pair of white gold direwolf cuff links with bright diamond eyes. Every Stark man had a pair. This was their way of welcoming her new husband into the fold by gifting him with the sigil of House Stark. Seems more like a warning than a gift. What if he has his own sigil? What if he doesn’t use cuff links? I hope he likes my present. Sansa’s special gift was an ancient manuscript illustration of a Lord of Winterfell sitting in the Godswood cleaning his longsword in front of the Weirwood tree. It was her favorite. That was how she saw her Prince Charming. She hoped to hang it in her new home, wherever that might be.



“Aunt Dany is going to make me crazy with her micromanaging everything.” Jon confided to Davos while sitting in his office. “I had to sneak down here to you just to get some time to think.”

“You must remember, love can cloud judgement. She thinks she’s doing the right thing.”

“She always thinks she’s doing the right thing. Do you realize she called the producers to find out some particulars about the woman I’m about to marry? She said that I needed to buy the right gift for her.”

“You feel like she’s taking your choice away, don’t you? I know she thought she was helping you to make the best impression.”

“I’m supposed to give her a gift that expresses my expectations for the future of our marriage. I haven’t even had a chance to think about it.”

“Maybe the information would help then.”

"I doubt it. They refused to tell her anything significant. All she found out was that she loves yellow and loves lemons.”

“At least she’s consistent. Color wise, I mean. So something yellow and something lemon.”

“When I went to buy the wedding rings at Tiffany’s…..”

“At your Aunt’s suggestion. I’m surprised she didn’t go with you.”

“Jorah wouldn’t let her. He told her she was driving him crazy.”

“Go on, what did you see at Tiffany’s?”

“I saw these keys with yellow diamonds and I thought that I should give her the key to my heart.”

“Now that sounds like you. So what about the lemons?”

“Got that covered. You’re going to laugh.”

“No, I have faith in you.”

“I figured that since my apartment has a huge terrace, I’m going to buy her a lemon tree. Then, when we buy a house, we can plant it.”

“That’s right. I like the way you’re thinking.”

“So I decided that I’ll hang the Tiffany bag on one of the tree limbs. Since the gift is supposed to be delivered before the wedding I’ll write her a note asking her to wear the key, so I’ll know which girl to marry.”

Chapter Text

Wedding Jitters  Part 2


Catelyn, Ned and Sansa sat in the kitchen of the family row house on Visenya’s Hill in Kings Landing. Her father lived there when Parliament was in session, while the rest of the family remained at home in the North. It felt like home, a tiny bit Winterfell, with Sansa’s architectural photos of the ruins of the oldest keeps, the gates and the ancient walls surrounding them. The kitchen itself was filled with some artifacts from the original kitchen and pantry, old bowls and plates with the direwolf sigil and the blue china with her mother’s Tully fish sigil swimming along the edges, that she used when they entertained officially in town. 

“Sansa, I hope you are going into this with a clear head.” said her father. “I don’t really understand this TV show, but if it makes you happy.”

“Arya and I already discussed this with Mom. It couldn’t be any worse than the current state of my love life.”

“This is marriage, TV show or not.” reminded her father.

“I wasn’t thrilled about this either.” continued Catelyn. “But, you agreed to this.”

“My own judgement has been horrible.”

“We probably shouldn’t let you do this but, you are grown up.”

“Ned, I did make some inquiries.” started Catelyn.

“You did WHAT????”

“Yes, I did. Do you really think, I’d let you go off and just marry anyone. I’m sorry, Sansa. I’m your mother.”

“I can’t believe…………..”

“Your father is an MP. I felt it necessary.”


“And nothing. I was able to speak with Dr. Schwartz. She assured me that you were matched with an appropriate young man.”

“What exactly is appropriate to you, Mother?”

“A good family, someone like us.”

“Oh, great! Both Joffrey and Ramsey were from fine upstanding families and they were both jerkoffs.”

“Catelyn. Sansa. You are both going to let this GO! Now, Sansa, since you have committed yourself to this, you will see this through. It’s happening tomorrow.”

“I didn’t want our conversation to take this turn.” reproached Catelyn. “I’m sorry. I can’t help being a mother and wanting everything to be perfect for you.”

“No, this was not my intention either.” added Ned. “Your mother and I worry.”

“I understand, Dad. And if it doesn’t work, then it doesn’t work. I just thought I’d try.” said Sansa frustrated with both of them and herself and Arya and everybody else.

Her father got up and went to the large cupboard. He brought out an ornamented box with a blue bow and set it on the table in front of Sansa.

“Forget about all our issues. My beautiful daughter is getting married tomorrow and I have something special for you. Open it.”

Catelyn smiled at Ned. Sansa carefully lifted the lid off the box and unfolded the blue velvet. Inside was such a surprise.

“Mom, Dad, you……”

“Had this made for you. You know what it is.” smiled Ned.

“A silver crown of winter roses. It’s for the Queen of Love and Beauty, like in the grand tourneys.”

“You deserve nothing less. This is our wish for you. May you be the Queen of Love and Beauty for the prince you have always hoped for. I will be the most honored father in all of Westeros, if you will wear this when I escort you down the aisle in the Sept.”

“Then I will find my prince waiting for me.”




“I brought the cloak. It’s in the garment bag.”

“What do you mean?” asked Jon.

“For the ceremony, you know the cloak. You place it on your bride and bring her under your protection.”

“Aunt Dany, this is the 21st century.”

“This is Westeros and you will do it according to tradition.”

“Did you have a cloaking ceremony?”

“No, the Dothraki don’t cloak. Different culture, different traditions.”

“So what did you two do? What vows did you say?”

“No words were necessary. It was like Woodstock without the hippies and weed. Just eating, drinking, dancing, and of course, gifts.  Drogo’s family gave me the three traditional gifts of a whip, bow, and arakh. Then the bride refuses them with traditional words, and the husband takes them. Once that happened, I was married. Of course, in private, we said our own vows under the moon and stars.”

“So, if you married Jorah now, would you have a cloaking ceremony?”

“I guess, we would. Funny, it seems like Jorah has been protecting me for years. He was a military attaché in Essos with Drogo. He has always been there for me.”

“Still is today.”

“Let’s get back to you. I know, I didn’t consult you. I should have. I had a cloak made in the colors of House Targaryen and our sigil.”

“I hate to ask but, it doesn’t look like our bank emblem does it? I refuse to drape a cloak on anybody with that big red three headed dragon on it. That would be like a walking advertisement and I’m not going to embarrass a woman, I don’t even know like that.”

“Here open the bag and see for yourself. I do have good taste.”

When Jon took the cloak out of the bag, he realized it was going to be an issue, especially for its size. It was simple black silk edged in red. The cloak itself fluttered with a finely embroidered outline of dragon wings done in gold thread and a modern stylized head that wrapped around the shoulder to the left with a yellow eye that should lay over the bride’s heart. Rather than a clasp, there were black ribbons that could be tied in a bow in front to allow the cloak to billow out as the bride walked back down the aisle.

“Are you sure she won’t look like Batman in this thing. It’s a bit theatrical.”

“I was thinking regal.”

“I get your idea, but I’m still seeing a bit of the caped crusader here.”

“So, I guess, I have to cancel the wind machine then.”

“You better be joking about that. You are just kidding, right?”

Chapter Text

Like Lambs To The Slaughter


When Jon and his buddies arrived at the Ritz-Carlton around 11:00 am., they were immediately swamped by a TV production crew.

“Obviously, getting out of a big black limo wasn’t inconspicuous enough!” laughed Sam.

“I thought that’s why we’re wearing Wayfarers?” said Pyp.

“Yeah, we just look like Blues Brothers wannabes.” joked Edd.

“They were Mormont’s idea.” added Grenn

“Idea of what? Secret agent? Jorah has been hanging out with Aunt Dany for too long.” laughed Jon. 

“The craziest part is that we all went along with it.” reminded Sam.

“You’re right about that, like lambs to the slaughter.” said Edd.

Producer Chris Coelen approached the group and guided them to an elevator which took them to the top floor of the hotel.

“You must be Jon. I’m Chris. We have your suite ready upstairs, where you all can hang out and get ready.”

“Great, I didn’t expect this. Actually, I had no expectations. Too stressed.”

“The suite is already catered, thanks to your Aunt. Anything you need, just call. The only rule is no peeking. No looking around to find your bride.”

When they got to their rooms, Daario was already there waiting for them. He must had almost a dozen garment bags hanging all over the place. 

“Ok guys, you can relax, but remember Dany gave strict orders. You must look presentable.” began Daario. “That means hair and beards, Edd.”

“But, isn’t my ‘do, done?” asked Edd.

“What ‘do have you got going on?” questioned Grenn.

“It’s that windswept, tousled look, for your information” Edd retorted.

“Keep thinking that, bro.” taunted Jon.

“I’m getting the full treatment. The girls are coming right, Daario?” asked Pyp.

“My mother is going to be watching. I better look neat and clean or she’ll kill me. All she’s been talking about is ‘her baby’ on TV.” quipped Sam.

“Mine too.” added Grenn “Maybe, I’ll get discovered.”

“So, Edd, you’ve got two choices, the ponytail or the man bun, What’s it going to be?” demanded Daario. “I’m not disappointing Dany, she’s my best customer.”

“OK, ponytail. I’m going to leave the man bun for Jon. I just can’t. It reminds me of my grandmother and her old lady bun. Just can’t go there.” responded Edd.

“Man bun it is. Just really don’t take too much off the chin.” sighed Jon.

Daario tisked at Jon. “She’s a young lady, I’m not going to let you give her rug burn on her wedding night!”




Arya had already scoped out the hotel before she and Sansa arrived. They decided they would be less conspicuous if they just drove Arya’s car and came in through the parking garage. They didn’t have much to carry because the production company had picked everything up earlier in the morning. Sansa only had her personal items, jewelry and makeup. Catelyn and the boys would come in next and finally her Dad and uncle. Are we supposed to be seen? Not that I want to.  

Gena McCarthy, one of the producers, found them trying to slide through a side corridor to check in.  She had a clipboard with Sansa’s submission photo staring up at her.

“Hi, I’m Gena, You must be Sansa, our bride?”

“Well, duh! Why else would we be sneaking in here?” smart mouthed Arya.

“We have your suites ready and all of your clothing and suitcases are here.” continued Gena trying to ignore Arya. “And the rest of your party?”

“My mother will be arriving soon with my younger brothers and the rest of the guys a bit later. My father would prefer not to attract attention.”

“He’s a somebody, know what I mean?” cracked Arya.

"Here is my mobile, they can text me and I’ll escort them in.” replied Gena. “As you can see, we’re busy shooting already. The other two couples are getting married this afternoon.”

“Oh, are we late or something?” asked Sansa.

“Nothing of the sort, your ceremony is this evening at 7:00 pm. You have plenty of time to relax and get yourselves camera ready. Stylists will be coming up. Let’s get you up to your suite.”

They rode the elevator up to the 14th floor. It was totally deserted and quiet. Gena lead them into a large suite. Garment bags were hung everywhere and a hair and makeup station was set up along one wall.

“Stylists will be up in a couple of hours. So relax. Just text me if you need anything. Please enjoy the luncheon and champagne. Your groom has provided your catering and sent a request to keep your champagne flowing.”

“I can deal with that. I like him already.” laughed Arya. 


“Oh, just one thing, please don’t leave your floor. No peeking!” reminded Gena. “We’re going for genuine surprise on the camera.”

Arya and Sansa began to settle into the room. Arya threw herself on one of the beds and clicked on the TV. As she surfed through, she caught a local midday news show. They were doing a segment interviewing Dr. Pepper Schwartz, who was describing tonight’s events. She explained that one of the couples was from Westeros elite families and that everyone should tune in tonight.  There was bound to be a great deal of excitement.  She said the tapings were live and that very little was edited out. The TV audience was going to have a complete experience from preparations and partying in the brides’ and grooms’ suites, ceremonies in the Sept, and of course, the wedding receptions. Nothing was off limits. Crews were already shooting!

“Shit, Sansa! Did you hear that. Every breath you take, every move you make…. well every move we all make on fucking TV.”

“Look my loving sister, this was your idea. So if there’s a spotlight, I’m pushing you into it.”

“Fat chance!”

“You’re not getting through this unscathed. I’m going to make sure there’s a closeup of you dancing with somebody, yeah somebody from the groom’s side.”

“He better be hot.”

“Hot or not you’re dancing!”

“I’m going to take a shower. I don’t know exactly when Mom and the boys are arriving.”

“I’m going to chill out here.”

How do you think I should wear my hair?”

“Isn’t that a Mom question? Up, down, sideways?”

“The crown has to fit and stay in place. I’m relieved that I don’t have to wear a veil. That and a cloak would be too much.”

“Northerners don’t wear veils. What’s the point?”

“I don’t know.  All I know is that the groom’s cloak better not be ugly.”

“Worse than a huge direwolf on your back.”

“Thank the gods, Mom, abandoned that idea.”

“Yeah, that might really suck.”

Chapter Text

Wedding Day Vignettes #1


By the time Sansa came out of the shower her mother and the boys had arrived. They were given the adjoining suite and had entered through the shared door. Catelyn was assessing the champagne bottles and the fruit and cheese trays on the dresser next to the TV.

"Well that's a nice touch." 

"Most certainly is. Sansa's groom sent it." Arya observed.

"Oh, really?"

"Mom...." began Sansa.

"Boys" Catelyn warned, "Don't you touch that champagne! Or there's going to be a problem."

"Can we at least eat the cheese and crackers, I'm hungry." moaned Rickon.

"Sansa put some more clothing on, your father will be here soon."

"Ok, I wanted to ask....."

"Arya get in the shower. The hair and makeup people will be here soon. And we all need to get done up. Remember, camera ready or something like that." Sansa pleaded.

"Boys, get some food and go back into our room. Watch some TV, but don't you dare order any movies. As soon as Dad, Robb, and Uncle Benjen get here you all can......"

"We know, we know. Mom." Bran moaned as well.  

"What is all that noise upstairs?" demanded Catelyn.

"Don't know, sounds like Headbanger's Ball. Is there a special southeron Westerosi mating dance? asked Arya.

"I give up. I'm going outside on the balcony to dry my hair. I can't even ask a question. Never mind, now."

"I'm into the shower. Gods forbid, I'm not girly enough!"

"Boys get going. Sansa, honey, I'm sorry. There is so much to do to get this family presentable. What kind of mother would I be. And all of us on TV! Your father is trying to persuade Uncle Benjen to get a shave. They're at his barber right now. And then, I don't know who else is coming. I keep texting your Aunt Lysa and Uncle Edmure. They're both on the road somewhere....."

"Mom, chill out. Look, I'm opening the champagne and we're going to have a drink. Then I'm going to dry my hair outside."

"Honey, I..."

"I know, you're a perfectionist. And you're think about Dad and everybody else. You are getting yourself done up as well. You get to look beautiful too. You are the mother of the bride. My mother."

Sansa popped the cork and the champagne bubbled out everywhere. They both looked at each other and laughed. She filled the flutes and they clinked a toast.

"Thanks Prince Charming, wherever you are."



Wedding Day Vignettes #2


"Guys, sorry, but what the fuck?"

"This is some vintage MTV, bro." cajoled Grenn.

"So, we all jump around. This is House of Pain!!!!" remarked Edd smiling.

"Yeah, jump up jump up and get down!" sang Pyp. 

"You go with that, I'm out to the balcony. I have GOT to think. I still have a cloak problem. I'm going to call Davos."

Jon stepped out of the noise and took a deep breath. I can't put that dragon cloak on this girl. She's going to think I've lost my mind. More like I can't let Aunt Dany control everything. I'm about to be somebody's husband. Aunt Dany is going to have to let go.

"Hey Davos."

"I'm on my way."

"No, I know. Look, what the fuck am I going to do about the dragon um…. more like bat cape.... cloak, whatever?"

"Gods, I'm so sorry about that. You know your Aunt. What am I supposed to do? Can you talk to Jorah?”

"I don't know, if only there was an alternative."

"She doesn't have to wear it all night, just walk out of the Sept with it on. It's only an ancient ritual, not a curse. Remember, you got her fantastic gifts. She's going to understand. Besides, who knows what her maiden cloak looks like. It's probably just as embarrassing." 

"You're right. Get over here. The guys are all over the place. I need some sanity."

"Hang on, I'm coming. Just trying to avoid Daario."

"Got it. He's waiting for you and Jorah. So suck it up!"

Jon put his phone down and went to the railing. He looked out at the waves on Blackwater Bay. So much was rushing through his head. He closed his eyes and ran his fingers through his newly shaped up beard. It will do. It will all have to do. He took a deep breath. The wind carried up a lemony scent. Lemons. Was the tree delivered already? Shit, I've got to get the gift ready. In a minute. Just another minute. Lemons?

Jon heard a voice on the below. There was someone down there. She was counting. He peered over the railing to see the bluest eyes in the world staring up at the sky. She was brushing her long wet hair and counting the brush strokes, leaning back over the rail, allowing the breeze to help dry her hair, he supposed. Oh,, he couldn't be so lucky. She's gorgeous. Blue eyes, red unbelievable red hair.

"Um.... hi, down there. Enjoying the breeze?"

"What?" Sansa' refocused her eyes from the clouds to the direction of the voice. "Oops!" She said as the brush dropped from her hands and down to the ground below."Oh, shit!"



Wedding Vignettes #3


The most intense grey eyes were staring down at Sansa. The young man looked totally embarrassed. He must have realized that he interrupted her personal ritual. At least 200 strokes a day. Everyday. Sansa blinked to adjust her eyes. She blushed. She was wearing the white T shirt with BRIDE scrolled across the front that had been left hanging in the bathroom and her soft blue pj shorts.

"Sorry, I'm sorry. Didn't mean to startle you. Do you want me to go get your brush?"

"I think its a little late for that. Hope it didn't hit someone on the head down there."

"Oh, right. From this height. It's probably weaponized. I didn't mean to disturb you. The guys are too loud up here and I had to think."

"Yes, me too. My mother is totally stressed and bossy. I even popped the champagne for her. Chill her out."

" got the champagne? The Dom Perignon."

"Pretty cool, complements of my husband to be. Sweet huh."

"Real sweet. I think, I better go. Sorry, if my friends are bothering you."

"Well, its a wedding day after all."



Wedding Day Vignettes #4


"Holy shit, that was her!" Jon gasped as he jumped back in the room.

"Dude?" asked Sam.

"I just saw her. She's model superlative."

"You're joking." said Pyp.

"No, I went out the call Davos about the cloak and I smelled lemons. She was downstairs on the balcony brushing her LONG RED hair dry."

"Jon you're hallucinating. You need a drink." said Edd.

"I don't think she knew who I was."

"How do you know she's the bride?" asked Sam.

"How about the BRIDE T shirt she was wearing. She said it was loud up here and she could hear us."

"Yeah and so." replied Edd.

"When she saw me, she dropped her brush down the side of the building."

"Killer hairbrush. From this height, you know." stated Sam.

"She was beautiful. I mean beautiful."



Wedding Day Vignettes #5


Sansa ran back into the suite and banged on the bathroom door.

"Arya, Ar-Y-AAAAAA! Let me in."

"No let me finish. I'm almost done."

"Hurry up. I saw one of the guys from upstairs."

"I'm coming." she yelled through the door. "I didn't bother you."

"Ok, just get out here! I think I saw him."

Arya finally came out of the bathroom, wrapped in only a towel and her hair dripping. She shook her head and droplets of water splattered everywhere.

"Hey, don't get me wet. I saw one of the guys on the balcony. I was out there brushing my hair. I don't know if he was watching me, but I dropped my brush."

"Dropped your brush?"

"Over the railing and it probably impaled somebody."

"What did he look like? Was he hot?"

"I think so, I don't know. The sun was blinding. He had dark grey eyes. And dark curly hair. That's all I could see."

"Who do you think he is?"

"How would I know? He asked me if I was enjoying the breeze and that's when I dropped my brush. I didn't realize anybody was up there, you know on the balcony I mean. He offered to go down and get my brush."

"Then he's just some random guest or friend of the groom, because we were told not to leave the floor."

"He said it was too loud inside and I said my mother was fussing even after a glass of champagne."

"You should have said, My groom sent Dom. What have you done lately?"



Wedding Vignette # 6


"So Gena, please enlighten me. What have the two families been bothering you over. Just for my edification. Your experts don't have many details.” asked Tyrion Lannister.

"Nothing too intrusive. You had me worried from your description. Actually, they just wanted to contribute. Mrs. Stark said that she was sending the wedding cake. She wanted a special lemon cake with specific floral decorations rather than the generic one we provide."

"Ah, yes. Catelyn is very detail oriented. I'm not surprised. And Ms. Targaryen?"

"Now, she was a bit more trouble. She wanted to know some details about the bride. Innocuous though. Like favorite color. And height."

"She would need to know the bride's height for the cloaking ceremony."

"I'm sure that she is having a cloak custom made and it must be the right length."

"You know, I still don't get this cloaking ceremony thing.”continued Gena.

"It's not that complicated.” started Tyrion, “The bride comes to the ceremony wearing the cloak of her house, in other words, showing that she is under her family's protection. When she is bound to her husband, he brings her under his protection. Hence, she removes her familial cloak and is given his."

"That sounds beautiful."

"I guess you need a copy of my book too."



Wedding Vignette # 7


Bran and Rickon were getting bored. They had eaten most of the fruit and cheese. Real Madrid was kicking the shit out of Manchester United, so there was nothing exciting to watch. 

"We may be stuck on this floor, but Mom didn't say we couldn't go outside and look out." started Rickon.

"I'm sure we can sit on the balcony and look at the water until Robb gets here. I wonder what's taking them so long?” agreed Bran.

"It's Uncle Benjen's beard. Mom said it was going to take a hacksaw to cut it." 



Wedding Vignette # 8


Jon's phone vibrated in his back pocket. It was too loud in the suite to even hear the ring tone so he stepped back out on the balcony to answer the call.

"Jorah, fuck. Have you figured it out?"

 "I went through her closets and nothing! I called Daario and he got pissy with me. He designed the cloak."

"So, what am I going to do? Cloak her with the bat cape? May as well bring the wind machine. That's totally made for TV."

"I still have two options. What do you think about a black mink cape. I think Dany wore it once to the opera. If only we knew what this girl looked like."

"I think I do. When I called Davos, there was someone on the balcony below. It was really bright, but, I have to say tall and slim. All I could see was red hair and blue eyes, the bluest eyes."

"Sounds like love, Romeo. You already had your balcony scene. If she's tall, then the mink won't work."

"No mink, that's tacky. This whole thing is already weird."

"Don't sweat it. I've got one more idea. It's a long shot."

"I'm not even going to ask."

"I'm not going to tell you anyway. See you at the altar."

"Is that a promise or a threat?"

Jorah hung up leaving Jon just staring at the phone. What was he talking about? I can't embarrass that girl. Jon took a deep breath and looked down to the balcony again. Nobody. He heard laughter coming from someplace though. He leaned further over the balcony. Two boys on the next balcony over. They were throwing something and laughing their asses off.

"Hey guys, having fun?"

Bran and Rickon looked up and saw Jon hanging over the balcony above. They stopped like they were caught red handed. They were.

"Hi!" They both called back.

"What are you guys doing?" asked Jon

"Trying the feed the seagulls, but they won't take it." replied Bran.

"What are you throwing?" continued Jon curiously.

"Smelly Brie, that's all that was left." said Bran.

"I don't think birds eat cheese."

"That's ok, it's more fun watching it hit. It looks like bird turds. Hey are you going to marry our sister?” yelled Rickon.



Wedding Vignette # 9


"Sansa, Sansa, we saw him!!!!!!"

"What are you yelling about?" scolded Catelyn.

"We saw a guy upstairs." yelled Rickon.

"He's a man."corrected Bran.

"What are you talking about guys." Arya asked.

"We were outside throwing the Brie to the birds, but they wouldn't eat it. So they just dropped it like bird turds!" explained Rickon.

"And a guy leaned over the balcony and talked to us." added Bran.

"So what did he look like?" asked Arya.

"Like a guy. I don't know.... a guy with dark hair. replied Rickon. 

"Rickon asked him if he was going to marry you?” confided Bran.

"Bran..... Rickon..... " chided Catelyn "Don't go out there again. Your father, Robb, and Uncle Benjen are on their way up."

"Thank the gods." Breathed Sansa relieved.  "This isn't getting much easier."

"We saw your husband!!!!!"

"You better not have. We're not supposed to peek. What if they don’t let me marry him, who ever he is?"

"We didn't think of that." apologized Bran.

"Yeah," started Arya "Dad better see you behaving."

"We just want to see if Uncle Benjen got his beard sawed off"



Wedding Vignette # 10


"It's about time you men got here." huffed Catelyn. 

"No compliments, Mom?" asked Robb. "It was a rough morning."

"Robb you look so handsome. And you Benjen, you've cleaned up well. Better than expected."

"Catelyn, you know that I always rise to the occasion. My niece's wedding is quite the occasion." joked Benjen.

"What about me?" asked Ned. He walked over to Catelyn and took her hands. He leaned in and kissed her cheek. "You've overlooked your husband."

"Oh Ned."  she began, "I'm overwhelmed. Our daughter is getting married. I suddenly feel so..... old."

"So beautiful. Cat, look what you have given me. This life. These precious children. There is nothing I wouldn't do."

"I know." she whispered "This life with you is amazing, Ned Stark. Tonight you will walk down the aisle with Sansa and all I will see is you waiting for me in front of the heart tree at Winterfell."

"All I will remember is the joy, I felt when you smiled at me and I took you hand in mine and we said the words. I am yours and you are mine.”

“Yes, I am yours, my love. Now, let me get back to the girls. Get them ready."

"And yourself. Remember, I'm dancing with you tonight, Cat, all night." reminded Ned with a wink.