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28 Jul 2015
Yves is the wild southerner, Joanna is the sensible member of the freefolk.
One of them is still a black brother. One of them still dies.
30 Jun 2016
Ygritte accompanies Mance Rayder to the other side of the wall with skepticism. The kneelers are a boring people yet Mance is eager to take part in the activities hosted by Lord Eddard Stark. He doesn’t expect to find any joy or entertainment from the trip. Then he sees her.
- Part 1 of he stole her
11 Aug 2016
“Perhaps you should arm yourself.” Ygritte suggests. Today marks the second day Joanna had been attacked by Orell in a row. She had taken a good swing at the wildling and nearly went for his bird too before Ygritte intervened. It’s been nearly a month since he’s taken her. “I gave you a dagger. What happened to that?”
"You took it away after I tried to stab you."
Ygritte frowns, trying to remember. “Ah, yes."
- Part 2 of he stole her
03 Jun 2019
Joan’s siblings held the surname of their forbearers. The First Men, the Kings of Winter, who ruled and owned the lands of the north for thousands of years. But while they held the name of those who ruled the north, her name was the very embodiment of the north.
The endless flat fields hardened by ice. The mountains that laid on the horizon and the northern lights that flowed in the sky like gently rushing rivers. The Wolfswood in which the lords of the north hunted for prey, the Godswood in which they prayed. The nameless gods whom sought no favor and gave none in return. The Wall that protected the realms of men from wildling invaders and before that the monsters from legend. That’s what Old Nan always told her, on the days when she felt particularly low and melancholy. Well, more low and melancholy than she usually feels.
Joan Snow, the Bastard of Winterfell, they whispered. But it held none of the glory Old Nan endowed to it. Instead, it was whispered with either pity or veiled contempt. Snow, it was a name she was supposed to carry shamefully not proudly, and rightfully so. Who would want to be a bastard? Who wanted to love and marry and care for a bastard?
- Part 4 of A Song of Space and Time
11 Jun 2019
The song of Lyarra Snow is a sad one. Beautiful but baseborn, scorned by those above her station and yet desired by them. Much like her aunt before her, she was stolen in the night, never to be seen again. Or so they sing in the South.
In the true North, stolen from her home, Lyarra must learn to live amongst the freefolk until she finds a way to escape.
Bookmarks which have used it as a tag:
19 Dec 2018
Taken from the asoiafkinkmeme: "She steals him" requesting f!Jon and m!Ygritte.
Bookmarked by lmsweetness
05 Jul 2018