u/Early_Candidate_3082

Author: Wardown

Words: 137,493

Status: Unfinished

Rating: Mature

Language: English

Chapter 98, The Tower of Joy

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33638251/chapters/224990161

“He then went back in, and brought out his sister's corpse.  Then, he set us all to work, demolishing the Tower, to build cairns for the dead.  All save the dead kingsguard.  When the work was done, he hacked them into pieces with his greatsword, and he told us, they would be left for wild animals to eat.  Well, I hardly blamed him for it.  They were no true knights, for all the world holds them up as paladins. We found a wet nurse for the boy, at Nightsong, and eventually, we returned to the capital. Ned and Robert were reconciled, and he claimed the boy as his own. Ned never told you the truth of this?"

"No. I heard a rumour that the mother of the child was Lady Ashara Dayne, sister to Ser Arthur. I put that to Ned once. He threatened to commit me to the Silent Sisters, should I ever repeat the rumour. Doubtless he feared that I might reveal the truth of Jon's parentage, out of fear for my own children. Robert would have put us all to death as traitors, had he known who Jon truly was."

She was silent awhile, before finally saying, "Leave me, Howland, and send in Croaker and the Lady Melisandre. We have much to discuss."  As flies to wanton boys are we to the gods.  They kill us for their sport.  She had profaned the marriage bed, and given birth to a bastard.  And, now she marched to war against the boy who her husband had saved, who had given her a son in turn.  It was all too cruel.  

Author: Wardown

Words: 24,096

Status: Unfinished

Rating: Explicit

Language: English

Chapter 18: The Fears of Queen Sansa. https://archiveofourown.org/works/81769111/chapters/224239026

Sansa lay absolutely still, legs apart, staring up at the ceiling, as her husband entered her. As usual, in such moments, she thought about Cersei, and the things they did together, and that made the experience tolerable. Prior to the their wedding, Cersei had lectured her son about what he should expect from Sansa in the bedchamber. She had led him to believe that decent, chaste, wives of high birth, did not take any pleasure, from the act of procreation. Rather, they were performing a holy duty, namely to produce legitimate heirs. Mistresses, on the other hand ..., they were another matter.

The sooner Sansa bore Tommen a son, the sooner he could take a lover, or preferably, more than one. Pycelle would assure the young man that his wife would be incapable of bearing another child, without risk to her health, and that sexual relations between them must come to an end. Tommen was a kind man, without any indecent habits, and would surely accept that excuse. She was at least, quite fond of him, and she could happily live with him, as if they were siblings. She would appear on his arm in public, and, along with Cersei, she would organise the less savoury aspects of his government.

The Affair Of The Poisons

Author: Wardown

Words: 22,858

Status: Unfinished

Rating: Explicit

Language: English

https://archiveofourown.org/works/81769111/chapters/223387281.

Chapter 17, The Legilimens

"I look ridiculous", said the scarred, dead-eyed woman called Meris, as she clambered into the set of robes, which Alys had brought with her to the Red Keep. The witch, herself, wore a magnificent robe of blue silk, embroidered with golden pentangles, and circles. Her companion was clad in a less elaborate robe of brown wool cloth, similarly decorated. A mage's apprentice.

"Your wand, Meris". She handed it over to her. She had bought it from a theatrical outfitters'.

"F\*ck’s sake."

"It's about creating and maintaining the right kind of image", said Alys.

"Why bother with image? Apply a set of hot irons to the bastard's cock, and he'll ope his lips, right enough."

"I don't do that sort of work. You must understand, Meris, that the world is divided into two classes. Those who can be tortured, and those who can not. Lord Baelish is of the class who may not be tortured. Although, by the time we're finished with him, he might wish that he was a member of the torturable class. " The other woman raised her eyebrows, interested at last.

"Does that mean, I'm going to see some magic?"

"Of a sort."

Author: Wardown

Words: 136,093

Status: Unfinished

Rating: Mature

Language: English.

Chapter 97, Before The Siege. https://archiveofourown.org/works/33638251/chapters/222336251

She gave a short address to the crowd, reminding them that the war had been brought on them by traitors. Lord Rickon was the trueborn son of Ned Stark, and he and they served the lawful monarchs of this land. The gods would grant them victory, if only they remained steadfast and brave.

Well, judging from their response, she'd said the right words to them, but this argument was not her own. Monarchy and lordship were concepts that would have been wholly alien to Val, not so long ago, and they still seemed very strange. As far as she could tell, it all came down to the smallfolk believing that the kings and lords were the rightful owners of the land, who then allowed them to farm it, in return for a share of the crops they grew, an obligation to fight and labour on their behalf, and generally bowing and scraping to them. Kneelers would thank their lords if they bottled their own piss and sold it to ‘em.

To most of her own people, the land was a common resource, like air or water. The things you owned were your home, your flocks and herds, and your goods. But even allowing that people could own land, why didn't the smallfolk just take it and divide it up, for themselves? And, why in the names of the spirits, would you just follow someone because he had the right birth? A chief of the free folk might want their son to follow him (or at a pinch, their daughter), but any free folk leader had to earn their place. Some people might call the Mance a king, yet he'd had to prove himself fit to lead. South of the Wall, they'd bend the knee to some idiot, or vicious brute, just because he had the right surname.

Author: Wardown

Words: 134,677

Status: Unfinished

Rating: Mature

Language: English

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33638251/chapters/221803946 Chapter 96, Heads, Spikes, and Walls.

“Bastard,

Your envoys are still alive - just about.  They are impaled upon poles, immediately outside of my Hall. They were foolish enough to threaten me and mine, in my own home, and in front of my own folk.  The weather is cold, but I have clad them in furs, and I have made sure that they are fed nourishing broths, whether they will it or no, so that they will not die too quickly.  Come to Winterfell, and you too, will share the same fate as your creatures.

I have been made aware that you murdered the Lord Commander of the Nights Watch, Ser Denys Mallister, and that you are guilty of acts of unprovoked murder against the free folk, in breach of my peace. I am pledged to their Graces, King Stannis, King Aegon, and Queen Daenerys. Rest assured, you will suffer a traitor’s death, in due course.

Rickon of House Stark, Trueborn Lord of Winterfell."

Dark Hermione murders Harry and Ron.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15441393

Author: Wardown (myself)

Words: 2,644

Status: Complete

Rating: Mature

Language: English

“Behold the Boy Who Lived “ she cried. The room fell silent, as she held up Potter’s head by its hair, and displayed it to the surviving wizards. Cheers and applause rang out from the Death Eaters, cries of horror and dismay from the rest. She threw the head to the Dark Lord, who caught it, and cradled it in his arms.

“Oh, Blest is this prey, new shorn from the trunk” he declaimed. “Who slew him?”

“Mine was that deed!” answered Hermione in turn, and bowed.

“Oh my dear Lord”, cried Bellatrix. “This is such a sweet day. Allow me to destroy the foul thing!”

“Most certainly not, Bella! Potter’s head will be mounted on a shield, and displayed in this very Hall. We shall teach future generations of wizards and witches that there is no escape from the justice of Lord Voldemort.”