At the end of her fourth class of the day – Statistic, with substitute teacher Professor Lannister, zie was a bitch – the blue-haired student she verbally abused during breakfast commands her to date him.

“Technically,” Griff says, slowly. “We are not defiling the couch.”

“My cousin has been showing interest on the Stark girl,” he tells Gerris.

“That’s nice,” Gerris says.

“The younger Stark girl.” Quentyn presses.

“Oh,” Gerris replies. He sounds amused. “Now that is worrying.”

Aegon the Dragon Prince looks at her under long lashes. “I’ve been wondering, the story behind your hair, and the mark you bear.”

Sansa thinks it began around the sixth day of summer, nine years ago.

songsofwolves:

ASOIAF/GOT MEME : Nine characters - 8/9→ Young Griff

They played on deck, sitting cross-legged behind the cabin. Young Griff arrayed his army for attack, with dragon, elephants, and heavy horse up front. A young man’s formation, as bold as it is foolish. He risks all for the quick kill. He let the prince have first move.

feat: Tom Felton as Young Griff

Family is family, the queen muses with pursed lips, and the bonds they share can never be broken.

the room is so quiet, my love [asoiaf; aegon/arya]

He sits below the iron throne; mischievous smirk decorates his face, graceful fingers tapping against the side of his head. The room is quiet, oh so quiet, that he can practically hear the loud beating of Daenerys’ heart above him, the hitched breaths of his people below. Somewhere in the distance, Aegon tunes to the sound of Tyrion Lannister’s choking-laughter beside his foster father’s side.

If he is not the royal prince, the next in line to rule over the Seven Kingdoms himself, then he supposes that he might laugh along with the imp as well. But he is, so that pretty much settles it.

The Dragon Prince looks ahead to where his heart stands. His heart spits in disgust at his feet where the crown of queen of love and beauty, in all its magnificence crystal blue roses, put together by branches-shaped silver he placed on top of her hair after the tourney, lays forgotten. He thinks his heart might break. Unfortunately it doesn’t.

“Take your bloody crown and your bloody silks,” his heart snarls threateningly, fingers clasp around the hilt of valyrian-steel sword as his heart raises its chin with a feral scowl. “Even if the kingdom falls and the Wall breaks, I will never agree on marrying a scum like you, prince or not.”

Arya Stark announces this aloud, each word pronounces clear for all ears of Westeros to hear.

Finally, Aegon tips his head back and roars out laughing in fascination.

Somewhere deep inside, his heart breaks, just a little.

the night that ended [asoiaf; future-fic aegon/arya, pg-13]

Death Rides the Air (A prologue, of sorts)

Pairing(s) - Word Count: Aegon Targaryen/Arya Stark - ~720 (incomplete)

Written for pansy25, agentredorange, and sandsnakeofdorne, based on this prompt.

Timeline: Like the prompt demands, Aegon is king of Westeros but they are having disputes on trading and territory. So yes, as for the territory problem, I shall start with The Twins. Three years after ADWD because conquering a country is not something you can do in a week, or a month.

AO3 // FFN

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^{Griff sees her in the woods, basked in mud and sticky blood of the bear she has killed and horse’s shit. The back of her black coat is torn apart, revealing three deep bleeding scars from the bear’s claws, yet she does not look like she’s in pain. She looks glorious.}

^{With a grin, the she-wolf turns to face him. “Will you be the death of me?” she mocks, and he grins back.}

^{“Not today.”}