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A Song of Ice and Fire: Tales of Westeros and Essos


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So I had planned on doing one story episode by episode, but I've decided that is too long and complicated for the time being. So I've decided to take scenes from each episode chronologically and write them like that. 

This content comes from the TV Show mostly because I don't remember the books that well. Anything you recognize is obviously from either George RR Martin, David Benioff, and DB Weiss. There are excerpts taken directly from the script, the rest is whatever artistic twist I've decided to put upon the story.  Without further ado: Winter is Coming (Ep1)

 

Pentos

Viserys storms into the courtyard toward a young stable hand who pales at his approach and starts fidgeting his hands. After nearly a year of living with the Magister, Viserys tempers tantrums were well known.

“Where is my sweet sister?” Viserys seethes venomously, spittle flying despite his clenched teeth.

The blood drains from the stable hands face unsure what the correct answer is. He did know where Daenerys was, but he wasn’t sure which answer would cause him the least harm. Seeing Viserys temperament deteriorate by the second he finally blurted out, “With the horses!”

The young man cowered as Viserys forcefully grabbed the front of his tunic and brought him in close, “Then get her for me you lout!” and pushed him away so that he sprawled onto the cobblestones. Struggling to get up the stable boy looked fearfully behind his shoulder only to be shouted at “Well hurry up, I certainly am not going to wander into the building with that disgusting horse stench!”

The young man sprinted into the stable only to collide into Daenerys causing them both to fall into a heap of hay.

“Oh!”

The young man hastily helped Daenerys up before mumbling hurriedly, “Your brother is looking for you!” Before he bolted, unsure if Daenerys too had a penchant for violence.

“It’s alright! I was just headed to the- never mind,” she called after him, the last part ending in a mumble when he was no where to be found.

Daenerys quickly started ruffling the straw out of her hair, not wanting to anger her brother, for she had more pressing matters. So the quicker the interaction the happier she would be.

“There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you! The Khal wants to meet at sunset and..” as she neared he saw her bedraggled appearance and wrinkled his nose. “And now we need to draw you a bath.” Panic entering his eyes taking note of how low the sun was already, he roughly grabbed her wrist and started shouting for attendants to draw up a bath. “Look what you’ve done,” he rounded on her, “if we’re late we might have just lost the only chance to reclaim my throne!”

“I was only just visiting the new foal and..” she cut off at her brother’s livid stare, before he suddenly smiled viciously. “It’s great that you love those filthy animals so much, you’ll be living among them soon enough.”

Dany looked distraught as she continued to be roughly led throughout the halls. The jostling and longer strides she had to make were making her distinctly uncomfortable. As they stormed past one part of the manor she had been meaning to visit on her way out of the stables, she yanked her arm out of Viserys grasp. “You’re hurting me!”

Whirling around, his eyes visibly seething with anger, he surveyed his sister for the first time that day. While no one had ever accused Viserys of being perceptive and had been known to be observant. Some would say a minor difference, but Dany wished it weren’t so as her eyes shifted between Viserys and the hall they just passed. All the while Viserys soaking in the sight of her body. From her anxious face to her budding breasts, to her fidgety legs. And then he smirked. “You don’t want to wake the dragon, do you?”

Dany, eyes wide like a deer in headlights, nervously shook her head and allowed her to be pulled in the direction of the bath house.

 

 

As they stormed into the room, the bath was only half full of servants scurrying in and out with pales of boiling water methodically pouring it into the pit.

“Disrobe.” Viserys commanded of his sister.

Flushing in embarrassment she began to strip from her finery. When the last piece pooled onto the floor around her feet, Viserys’ eyes glinted, drinking in the sight. Turning around, he procured a silk dress from a maid standing by the door. “A gift from Illyrio. Touch it. Go on. Feel the fabric.”

Dany let the delicate silk run through her fingers. Not seemingly interested at all by the dress, her fidgeting intensified, something not unnoticed by her brother.

“Tonight you must look like a princess. And act.” He adds the last bit as a biting remark. “You still slouch. And stop fidgeting!” He ground out, his teeth clenched once more. Once she stopped moving, her thighs instead clenched together, and hands curled up in fists by her side as the sloshing from the bath rang in her ears. “Let them see you have a woman’s body now.” His fingers brushing lightly over her breasts and trailing down towards her swollen bladder. He palmed it and gave it a quick jab, smirking as she yelped, hands leaping to her womanhood.

Turning his back, noticing for the first time that the bath was indeed full and that they were finally alone, not that it mattered. Turning back to face her, noticing her chest rising and falling in panic and the faintest glimmer on her thighs, deciding to prolong her agony longer with his diatribe, “Don’t fail me tonight. You don’t want to wake the dragon, do you? Do you?

“No.” Dany exhaled meekly. Just needing her brother to leave.

“Good. When they write the history of my reign, they will say it began tonight.” With that he strode towards the door, before he whirled around once more, catching Dany by surprise as she gripped her womanhood, “I’ll send the slaves in to bathe you. Be sure to wash off that stable stink.”

“Oh! And don’t soil the water, we need you smelling fresh,” Viserys stated walking back towards his distraught sister, once again placing a and on her aching bladder. “This better be just as firm when I retrieve you. A princess waits like a proper woman.” He smirked once more before striding out of the bath house, and sending several slaves in.

Daenerys collapsed into herself, legs writhing, hands clenched, and toes curled, when she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder, “Come now, let’s get your washed in and out, quick.” One of the bath slaves told her in a quiet and sympathetic voice.

She gingerly led the dribbling girl into the scalding tub.

~~~END~~~

 

I'll finish off the latter portion of this segment in the next update. And let me know what you think! And what kinds of things you want to see. I've already got the rest of this episode pretty much mapped out, but I'm always welcome to new ideas.

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5 hours ago, wtv said:

This is fantastic, and the characters voices are really on point.

Just last month I was saying there isn't nearly enough GoT omo content around, so I'm glad you decided to take a shot at this. Looking forward to the next chapters!

Yea, I've been meaning to do something like this for the past year now, but finally got around to it. I'll start writing the next part later tonight, so expect an update sometime this weekend!

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Winterfell

 “We need plenty of candles for Lord Tyrion’s chamber. I’m told he reads all night.” Catelyn strode into the banquet hall, looking frazzled having been up before dawn prepping for the procession’s arrival.

“I’m told he drinks all night.” Maester Luwin commented idly.

“How much could he possibly drink? A man of his… stature?”

“We’ve brought up eight barrels of ale from the cellar. Perhaps we’ll find out.”

“In any case, candles.” Catelyn just as swift as she entered, strode out. Feeling overburdened by the preparations and on account she hadn’t a moment to herself since sun-up remembered human need and thus shouted behind her, “And an extra chamber pot!” Approaching the courtyard, she notices Jon, Robb, and Theon loitering around the training area. “BOYS! BARBER. NOW!” Without a second glance she strides once more to the gate, hoping to get a clue on the arrival time. The clue did come in the form of a disobedient child, by the name of “BRANDON!”

“I saw the King! He’s got hundreds of people.” His eyes wide with wonder as he jumped down from the last stretch of wall.

Catelyn’s own eyes widening as she felt overwhelmed by how little time they had left to prepare before they narrowed, “How many times have I told you: No. Climbing.” Fixing her second born son with a stern gaze.

“But he’s coming right now! Down our road!” Bouncing excitedly, almost remind her like a child that needs to-

“I want you to promise me,” mentally calculating if she had enough time to pass her waters before the procession arrived, “No more climbing.”

Bran looked down at his feet before meeting his mother’s gaze, “I promise.”

“Do you know what?” Catelyn asked painfully aware precious time was passing.

“What?” Bran exchanged, relieved that was the last of the climbing spiel…

“You always look at your feet before you lie. Run and find your father. Tell him the king is close.” With that she strode of her heel in the opposite direction, back towards the castle.

“Come Summer!” Bran ran past her into the Castle halls with his direwolf in tow.

Catelyn strode purposefully into the halls of Winterfell, towards her and Ned’s chambers. But a distant shout caught her off-guard, “Forward scouts spotted!”

Cursing under her breath she changed direction to the guest relief area. These were closest to the courtyard and banquet hall, located in the hallway behind the high table. They were more ornate than strictly necessary, but they were for esteemed guests, or members of the family. Relief for other company were across the courtyard in a less private setting, and servants and maids had their own quarters for such a thing as well. There were of course, chamber pots in each room of the family, but there wasn’t enough time to venture around for absolute privacy.

So, Catelyn entered one of the two guest chambers and swiftly went about her business owing to short amount of time on hand.

One of the many things she hated about the North were the furs and layers you needed to wear to keep warm. It certainly was a hassle in a time such as this. Nevertheless, she sighed as she sat down, emptying herself into the chamber pot below. Keenly aware of the time, she gathered herself together and left as quickly as possible to help form the assembly in the courtyard, forgetting to tell an attendant to empty the contents of the guest pots for their royal visitors.

 

 

Standing patiently next to her husband, and looking significantly less frazzled, stood Catelyn surveying her surrounds. Her brow furrowed, “Where’s Arya?” Her question aimed at her second born, Sansa, just as the procession rode through the gate. Before Sansa can answer, they all kneel as King Robert Baratheon rides through the gate. Glancing over to Sansa once more, she sees Arya has taken her place with a helmet on her head? One which the bastard, Jon Snow, subtly lifts from her head and hides behind his back.

Robert dismounts from his mount and gestures for everyone to rise before turning to Ned.

Rising, Ned still bows his head as he utters, “Your Grace.”

“You’ve got fat.” Robert puts bluntly, as Ned’s head whips up incredulous. They both suddenly start laughing, easing the palpable tension in the courtyard as they embrace as old friends.“Cat!” Robert turns to Catelyn Stark. “Your Grace,” she intones, a slight bow of the head.

“Nine years. Why haven’t I seen you? Where the hell have you been?” Robert turns back to Ned.

“Guarding the North for you, Your Grace. Winterfell is yours.” Ned replies respectfully.

In the meantime, side conversations have erupted as Queen Cersei and the rest of her children descend from the coach, “Where’s the Imp?” Arya, ever the firebrand peers on her tippy-toes trying to see the dwarf.

“Will you shut up?” Sansa remarks, drawing a reproachful look from her younger sister.

“And who have we here?” Robert was making his way down the line of Starks. “You must be Robb.” Then turning to Sansa, “My you’re a pretty one.” And once more to Arya, “Your name is?”More intrigued than offended, she replied, “Arya.”

Robert once more proceeding down the line, “Ooh, show me your muscles,” to which Bran replies with flexed arms, “You’ll be a soldier.”

Once again, ignoring her surroundings, Arya eyes the man in the golden armor who just removed his helm. “That’s Jaime Lannister. The queen’s twin brother.”

“Would you please shut up.” Sansa repeats herself once more, her eyes never leaving the teenage Prince as he prances around the courtyard on his not quite mature pony, with his unwavering bodyguard, helm still affixed.

Cersei approached her husband and the Stark family in slow, careful steps, seemingly tired of the pomp and circumstance.

“My Queen.” Both Ned and Catelyn intone. But before Cersei can get a word in, Robert interrupts, “Take me to your crypt. I want to pay my respects.”

Affronted at being spoken over, Cersei seethes, “We’ve been riding for a month, my love. Surely the dead can wait.” Her stance hostile and shifty to the practiced eye.

Glancing at his wife, before brushing her off the King turns once more to his old friend, “Ned.” Nodding his head towards the crypt.

As the two disappear down the stairs of the crypt and the Queen still standing before Catelyn uncertain on how she should broach the matter without appearing weak, Arya piped up, “Where’s the Imp?”

Humiliated and still distressed, Cersei carefully made her way back to Jaime, “Where is our brother? Go find that little beast.” She snaps angrily. Stopping at a tugging of her dress. Turning to see her daughter—her angel—looking up to her with wide eyes, she knelt, inwardly cringing as she squeezed her distressed bladder.

The last stretch of the Kingsroad, Robert has been too excited to see his old friend again, and thus never kept to schedule often putting the horses and the procession to the test. They had been riding since at least the middle of the night, and it was now past high noon. She had been told there was a brief respite at dawn, one her children must have taken advantage of while she slept in the carriage. Considering that it was past high noon, she figured what her daughter wanted.

Slightly grimacing at the pain the crouch put her in, she whispered, “Myrcella, what’s wrong angel?” Her motherly instinct taking over.

“I need to attend the chamber-“ “Shush shush my sweet,” glancing around the courtyard, and seeing everyone disperse, she gratefully got onto her feet once more, and took Myrcella’s hand as she approached Catelyn once more.

“Lady Stark,” Cersei visibly grimaced, though not in pain or the absolute desperation she felt, but to address an inferior in such a civil tone. “My Myrcella,” she proceeded to lower her voice for the next part, still aware of the many eyes of the relatively empty courtyard now, “would like to pass her water.”

Catelyn off guard by the request, having expected them to request their chambers, waved off the attendants she had standing by. Such needs had no need for public awareness after all. “Oh! Of course, right this way.” Gathering her skirts, she approached the very same hall, she entered not moments before the procession arrived.

Following behind Catelyn, her hands folded neatly in front of her, her daughter unbecomingly having shoved her hand into her dress.

Catelyn led them a short way into a thankfully empty hallway, not because Cersei was visibly desperate (she’d rather die) but because she’d never allow the commoners to see her enter such a room to do such a common thing.

Having stopped, Myrcella made a rush at one of the chamber rooms, but Cersei held her back much to Myrcella’s dismay. Catelyn gave her a raised eyebrow, not daring to question the Queen, but Cersei gave her a searing look, and Catelyn bustled away.

Catelyn, entering the banquet hall once more nearly collided with an attendant, who was in search of her. “Lady Catelyn! I couldn’t find a spare chamber pot for Lord Tyrion’s chamber, so I took one form the guest relief area, because I figured he was a guest, so it seemed perfectly alright and…” he rambled on before Catelyn cut him off with her sharp stare.

Catelyn sent him away, deciding that she’d find an alternative chamber pot later, after all the feast was going to be an affair all on its own. Shaking herself out of the stupor the usually library attendant (they needed all hand on deck) had put her in, she strode once more into the fray, barking directions.

 Myrcella looked up at her pleadingly, and Cersei beckoned her forth, the girl darting behind one curtain. After impatient ruffling for half a minute, a torrent of water echoed through the halls as a young girl’s bladder gradually deflated.

Thankful that her daughter did not need her help, she entered behind the other curtain, already raising her skirts and undoing the ties where they needed to be undone. About halfway through the process, going painfully slow with trembling hands, she noted to her horror, the chamber pot was missing. Redoing all her hard work was torture for someone normally so composed, but she eventually made her way back into the hallway.

Knowing there was no one looking, Cersei let her composure slide, and gripped her dress in both hands against her tensed thighs. She was in absolute agony, listening to her daughter release her contents into what seemed to be an already used chamber pot. Taking deep breath, Cersei squeezed her eyes closed, but quickly opened them as she imagined herself as the one on the pot. Taking another ragged breath, she asked, “Myrcella dear? Are you finished?” In a rather husky voice.

“No, I mean yes, but only because this chamber pot looks pretty full.”

Cersei closed her eyes once more, moisture of frustration building in her eye ducts, tears she refused to drop before she composed herself just as Myrcella exited the chamber after an equal amount of shuffling as before.

“Wait here.” Cersei commanded, cutting off whatever Myrcella was about to say as she strode past the curtain to find that the chamber pot was indeed filled to the brim.

Exiting the chamber, she saw a distressed Myrcella, “What’s wrong? Did you not pass your waters?”

Shifting from side to side, “Yes. No, I did, but there wasn’t enough room and… and… I still really need to goooo.” She ended in a whisper.

Feeling for her only daughter, she replied softly, and barely in control, “Come Myrcella, let’s find our chambers.” Grabbing her hand, they strode down the hall. Cersei bursting at the seams, though regally composed for any who might see, and Myrcella distressed at needing to cut off her stream, trying not to clutch herself.

 

~~~END Pt 1~~~

 

Okay so, I know this one was very dialogue and plot heavy in the courtyard, but I felt like it set up the last bit well.

Also, I’m not entirely sure the ages of both Myrcella and Tommen at this point, because although she appears in both Season 1 and 2 fairly young, she appears in Season 5 depicting a mature young woman (also as a different actress). So, I figure I won’t put an age to the characters, and let you depict them how you will, so I apologize if I’ve gotten any mannerisms wrong.

On another note, I usually like to make my desperation scenes more drawn out, instead of out of nowhere like these ones may seem, but I felt this segment was getting too lengthy. Rest assured, I will get it all down to a science, after all, this is still only the first episode.

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A great story, once again.

I hope Cercei will loose control.

Myrcella is 8 by the way - the only "flaw" in your story. In your story she seems younger.

Tommen is 7.

Sansa is 11 - she is MUCH younger then she is portrait in the tv-series. But that is easily explained: Children were considered "adult" way earlier several hundred years ago.

To marry with 13 or 14 was common. Arranged marriage much earlier than that was nothing strange. Marriage was not consumed with 10 or something like that of course and the bride stayed a few more years with her parents. (Well, most of the time).

But obviously it would feel quite extreme for our tastes, if everything that happens to Sansa - Sex, marriage... - would happen to a 11 or 12 year old. That's why she seems much older in the tv-series. This explains by the way something else: Her behaviour. She seems sometimes a little "stupid", too trustworthy. Which would be true for a 15 or 16 year old. But for something a few years younger? Then her behaviour is completly understandable.

Small things, but that's why the books are better than the show. (which is greatly done!)

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4 hours ago, wedgeantilles said:

A great story, once again.

I hope Cercei will loose control.

Myrcella is 8 by the way - the only "flaw" in your story. In your story she seems younger.

Tommen is 7.

Sansa is 11 - she is MUCH younger then she is portrait in the tv-series. But that is easily explained: Children were considered "adult" way earlier several hundred years ago.

To marry with 13 or 14 was common. Arranged marriage much earlier than that was nothing strange. Marriage was not consumed with 10 or something like that of course and the bride stayed a few more years with her parents. (Well, most of the time).

But obviously it would feel quite extreme for our tastes, if everything that happens to Sansa - Sex, marriage... - would happen to a 11 or 12 year old. That's why she seems much older in the tv-series. This explains by the way something else: Her behaviour. She seems sometimes a little "stupid", too trustworthy. Which would be true for a 15 or 16 year old. But for something a few years younger? Then her behaviour is completly understandable.

Small things, but that's why the books are better than the show. (which is greatly done!)

Yea, I didn't feel like looking too much into their ages so I apologize for any inconsistencies. I think going forward, I'm going to treat the children a little older only because I feel weird writing about a younger cast, just a personal preference on my part. But I did write Myrcella that way because it was easier to draw it all together by Cercei acting on her motherly instinct.

Going forward though, I don't really plan on mentioning ages, so I can let you guys decide for yourselves what age you want to view the characters and I'll do my best to write them in such a way that they don't seem either to childish or too mature depending on the character. So in Myrcella's case, I think I'll write her a tad bit more mature. 

Other than that, I have mostly everything planned out for the rest of the episode. I'm still not sure what I'm going to make Cersei's fate, but I do have plans for her in a later segment, which I'm excited about.

If anyone has ideas with the story going forward, or ideas they want to see me write in a segment, message me. I'm all ears and don't want to repeat the same scenarios over and over again. Only taking requests for season 1 right now, mostly because I'll forget in the long run if someone gave me an idea for season 3, because that's a long way off with my writing pace. Also keep in mind I generally don't write about male desperation or scat, but I'm open to hearing ideas and deciding on a case by case basis.

 

Edit: *as a sidenote, since I'm basing it primarily on the show script, the characters I write about will be based off the tv show characters and their ages; but like I said, I'll try not to mention their exact age, so you can depict them how you will.

Edited by dolodi (see edit history)
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4 hours ago, Jc! said:

I'd like to see more from daneryes!

Yeah, I'd love to see some more of Dany too, especially from her pov. Her chapter made total sense to me, with how cruel Viserys was to her in the beggining while she had such a hard time standing up for herself. It's a bit sad but I actually love the humiliation, control and disciplinary/sadistic tone going on there.

Don't know how you'd write it once she gets more empowered, but if you need any help thinking up new scenarios and dialogue (for whatever character) just hmu, I'd love to contribute.

Edited by wtv (see edit history)
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Yea, I'm definitely going to have Arya and Sansa stuff in this episode, and I'm looking forward to doing more Daenerys stuff as well. That's a good point though, it'll be trickier to write once she becomes empowered but I have a few scenarios in mind. I'm going to try and get some writing done this weekend, it's been awhile since I last updated 😅

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