#game of thrones oc

summary:as children, the two of you had always been close. as teenagers, you were in love with each other and the only thing tearing you apart was her engagement to the future lord of winterfell. only after two rebellions, marriages, and children, do you see her again, but the pair of you have grown to be far different than you remember.

note:the weirdest love triangle-like idea i’ve had so far

She was running through the dewy green grass, blue skirts hiked up as to not get any stains along the hem of the fabric. Her auburn hair was free behind her, not twisted into a braid like she always had done. And she wore a smile that you had only ever seen when she was here with you.

“Y/N,” she stopped running, breathing heavy. Even exhausted, your name wasn’t a burden on her lips.

“Cat,” you smile. Her smile grows even bigger, and even in the moonlight you can see a blush paint her pale skin. The nickname was always different when it came from you, more intimate. Catelyn couldn’t help but feel butterflies in her stomach at the sound of your voice.

“You’ve been gone for so long, I thought you would forget our spot and everything.”

“I could never forget you,” you shake your head. Catelyn moves closer, sitting next to you on the cloak laid out across the grass. It was a deep red color, one that hadn’t suited the Riverlands. You never wore it or the color, it’s only use a blanket to protect your dresses from the damp grass. “Besides, I was only gone for three weeks.”

“It was a long three weeks without you,” she pouts. It was unnatural to see her this way, complaints never spilled from her lips in the light. She was a different woman when other people were around, with you she was Catelyn, and not Lady Tully. “Father was busy sending ravens. Edmure still a needy child, and Lysa… you know how she is. Fussing over Petyr because he lost in a duel.”

“I heard about that. He’s never been good with a sword.”

Catelyn hums, not pressing on about the duel. She doesn’t tell you why he was fighting or who it was with. The fewer details you know, for her, the better. “How was your trip?” She changes the subject, taking your hands into her own, “did you like visiting your family?”

You sigh, and give her hands a gentle squeeze. You had been away visiting your family, having been fostered off to the Tullys at the age of seven. You originated from a wealthy northern house, nearly as prestigious as the Starks. However, you did no good in the cold, harsh winter winds giving you too many illnesses to fight off. And with winter coming, your family feared it would take you along with it. You had been ward to Hoster Tully ever since. “It was fine. I got to see my baby brother. Mother named him after some Stark king from hundreds of years ago. Father disapproved, but mother has never really cared what he thought when it comes to naming children.”

Catelyn giggles. She met your father on a visit last year, shortly after the two of you had started whatever it was she could call this. It wasn’t courting, that was saved for a man and a woman who were going to marry. The only way for that to happen to you both would be to run away to Dorne. A fruitless thought, for Catelyn couldn’t abandon her family just for love. Family, duty, honor. There was no room for your fling between her house words. Now more so than ever.

“That sounds like him.”

“Probably wanted to name him after himself,” you roll your eyes. Catelyn hums in agreement once more, and you look back at her. Her eyes won’t meet your own, instead looking between blades of grass along the edges of a distant creek. “Catelyn?” At the sound of her full name, she looks back at you with dilated blue eyes. “Is something wrong?”

Quite frankly, she wanted to lie to you. She wanted to lie and say no, to convince you with small kisses and reassure you with nice words. But honor was a part of her family’s saying, and she had never managed to lie to you before.

“Y/N,” she says it soft and low, a small warning tone. You won’t like the next thing she has to say, you know it. “I told you how my father was sending ravens,” you nod when she pauses, finally looking to you. Catelyn looks away just as fast, “and Petyr, in that duel, it was, um,” you had always known he had a thing for Catelyn. You could never blame him, with her pretty curls and pale skin. A beauty of the Riverlands. You were fortunate, unlike Baelish, to have her return your affections. “It was for my hand.”

You pull your own hands back, crossing your arms. “You’re engaged?”

“Y/N—”

“Answer the question.”

Catelyn sighs, “yes,” you take in a sharp breath, “I am.”

“Who?” Your responses are short and cold, goosebumps rising on Cat’s exposed arms.

She swallows, “Lord Stark’s eldest son, Brandon Stark. He… he was kind to me, and even though he beat Petyr…”

“Seven hells, if you mention Petyr one more time, I’ll think you love him instead!” You get you your feet. “I leave for a few weeks and you’ve gotten not one, but two new suitors to replace me!”

“Y/N, please,” she stands, reaching out for your arm, but you back away faster than she can reach. Her hand drops back to her side, and she sighs. “I didn’t want to marry him, I didn’t want it to happen this way.”

“Didn’t,” you echo, “past tense.” Tears prick at your eyes, and your forced to look anywhere else. You will not cry for her, for this. You refuse. “Do you like him? Brandon?” She doesn’t respond at first, and so you’re forced to keep going. “Are you fond of him? Or will any affection you have for him fade out in a year like it has for me?”

“You have to understand, it wasn’t my idea,” you don’t look at her, but you can hear a change in her voice and know she’s started to cry. “I didn’t want to marry Brandon, I didn’t want to be engaged. But my father has made up his mind, I don’t have a choice.”

You stand in silence, moments passing and all you do is stand. You listen as a small breeze passes through the fields, as water rushes over rocks in the creek not far from here. You listen to the rhythmic pattern of your breathing, at how synchronized it is with Catelyn’s. But the lack of words hurts, and your heartbeat grows louder with anticipation—anticipation for what? You had nothing to look forward to.

“That’s what everyone says when their honor gets in the way.”

With that, you turn away from her and your place you always met late at night. You were quick on your feet, rushing away from her. You had always known your affair with her would end, knew it was a lady’s duty to marry a lord and give him heirs. A small, naive part of you truly thought you would make it, that she would go against her nature for you and maybe the heat of Dorne would be tolerable with you at her side. You were wrong, and as she called out your name from where she was standing, you didn’t acknowledge it. Didn’t look back or stop at her pleas for you to come back, for the pair of you to work something out. It wouldn’t work, just like this.

You should have known better at the start.

Catelyn just stands, watching your retreating form rush back to her father’s castle. She wants to run after you, to chase you down and apologize for it all coming out like this. She wants to, but she can’t. Her feet are planted firmly in the ground, watching you run off. She had never been good at watching people leave her.

Something she would have to get used to, when she saw you again in about twenty years.

*

In the years she had left her home of the Riverlands, two rebellions had taken place. Robert Baratheon’s rebellion, dethroning the Targaryens and placing the Storm Lord in charge of the realm. And then the unsuccessful Greyjoy rebellion, one that had taken her lord husband away from her during the end of her pregnancy with their third child. Five children, she had now. All lined up, ready for the king and his party to arrive.

Of course, that entailed the king, the queen, and their three children. The queen’s two brothers, as well, would be making a visit. The younger of the two, Tyrion, was the reason Catelyn restocked on wine and candles for him to read at night. Jaime Lannister, future Lord of Casterly Rock, was a surprise. Robert’s brothers did not stop their lordly duties to visit, but Jaime had. Likely due to Tywin’s suggestion that his granddaughter, Jaime’s daughter, marry the heir to Winterfell.

The initial mention of Jaime’s daughter made Catelyn wonder who had the unfortunate fate of marrying the former kingsguard knight. Whoever it was, her daughter could marry her son, a thought she didn’t like. She held no love in her heart for the Lannister lions, but her and Ned agreed to let Robb meet the girl before they decided to make the girl their daughter by law.

As the king rides in, Catelyn and her family fall to their knees out of respect. Her eyes are trained on a patch of dirt above her, all thoughts of who could possibly be Jaime Lannister’s wife leaves her. Her mindset is back to that of a perfect lady, prepared to do her duties and accommodate for the royal family.

Robert jokes with her husband, and then pulls her into a hug. He ruffles little Rickon’s hair, and then moves on to shake Robb’s hand. “You must be Robb,” the boy nods, “hear you might marry my niece! Not a handful, like her aunt. You’ll like her.”

Catelyn and Ned share a look as their king continues down the line. She doesn’t notice the queen’s carriage until Cersei Lannister is out of it, holding her hand out for Ned to kiss.

A blonde haired boy rides in alongside Jaime, both in leather embroidered with the Lannister sigil. Jaime’s son, no doubt. The two look exactly alike.

“That’s Jason Lannister,” Sansa whispers to Robb. “He’ll be Lord of the Rock after his father.”

Catelyn can hear the smile in Sansa’s voice, the girl’s eyes shifting from the crowned prince to Jason. The prince, Joffrey, looks Lannister also, but he takes more after his mother’s soft features. Jason has a look of confidence, rather than arrogance, that draws Sansa to him instead.

Catelyn recognizes the way Jason carries himself, the same way you did once. The only similarity he has to you, a coincidence no doubt.

At least, that’s what Catelyn tells herself once she figures it out. Until a second, smaller carriage appears, and Jaime gets down from his horse to open the door. He holds his hand out for his wife, dressed in red-brown furs over a golden dress. Her hair… your hair… is twisted into a braid you knew Catelyn always worn as a teenager.

She takes in a sharp breath, holding it until she thinks she’ll be able to breathe again.

You were the unfortunate woman to have married Jaime Lannister, mother to his two children. It was your daughter who may marry her son.

Followed behind you was a girl who could be your doppelgänger. Rohanne, her name was. Jason’s sister, your second child. Robb’s betrothed, if all went as Tywin Lannister wanted. She turned to face the line of Starks, offering the many children smiles when you don’t. Your expression is blank, yet somehow beautiful. Stoic, as opposed to the cheerful expression on your daughter’s face. There was nothing about her that looked Lannister, save for her pair of green eyes. Even those looked like yours, kind eyes that met Robb’s blue ones, and caused him to react just like his mother.

Two of her children had eyes for Jaime Lannister’s children, for Y/N’s. Another thing they had gotten from their mother.

*

The feast made her uneasy.

It wasn’t the food, nor was it the wine. It was the fact you were seated two seats away from her, only the queen a buffer. It was your daughter, Rohanne, fawning over Robb. It was how Sansa’s eyes were either on your son, Jason, or the crowned prince. It was Jaime’s attempt to intimidate her husband, mentions of a duel between the pair. And it was King Robert’s drunken groping of a maid bringing him ale, causing awkwardness and disrespect to his wife sitting beside her.

Cersei excused herself rather quickly, claiming she was tired though you and Catelyn knew she wasn’t. She retired to the chambers she shared with the king, leaving nothing between Catelyn and her former lover.

“Seems as though we’re going to share a grandchild,” you lift a glass of wine to your lips, taking a drink of the liquid far more bitter than you liked it. A northern thing, no doubt.

Catelyn followed your line of sight, looking to Robb who had returned from putting Arya to bed. He was whispering something into Rohanne Lannister’s ear, a smile on his lips. Whatever he had said made the girl laugh, and by the seven, did her laugh sound just like yours had.

“Maybe,” Cat stresses, but she knows how likely it is from the way your daughter and her son look at each other.

“They’re happy together,” you note. Catelyn closes her eyes for a moment, unable to look at the scene. Rohanne is telling him a story from when she visited the capital for the birth of the second prince, Tommen. Just before his name day celebration, she chased a kitten around the Red Keep, only to find it at the feet of the iron throne. Some joke she snuck in made Robb chuckle, and when Catelyn opens her eyes again, Robb’s arm is around Rohanne. “I wonder if that’s how we use to look, don’t you? Acting like we’re the only two people in the world.”

“We’re not, anymore.”

“We never were,” you agree, “even alone in the fields late at night. The world goes on, as do we. Five children, you have now? The three boys and two girls?” Catelyn can only manage to say yes before something harsh slips off her tongue. “The older girl can’t stop staring at my son. He’d be a better match for her than that prince, but the king has made up his mind.”

“How—?” She starts and stops just as fast. Cateltn forgets herself when she’s with you, an old habit that didn’t die out. “When did you and Ser Jaime get married?”

“Lord Jaime,” you correct. People still call him sir, since he hasn’t acted like a lord. You usually didn’t care, but when you heard it on Lady Stark’s lips, you knew it needed to be corrected. “And we married after Robert’s coronation. He was released from the kingsguard as soon as Robert took the throne.”

“Your children?”

“Born nearly a year after the wedding, both of them. Twins are common in both Houses Lannister and L/N.”

Catelyn glances over to you, but your eyes are far away. Still shifting between Sansa’s whispers with her friend Jeyne to your daughter and Robb to Jason twirling Myrcella around. “She looks just like you,” Cat says, and she means it. Rohanne is a ghost come to haunt her with all the same features as you. “And you never had any other children?”

“Didn’t want to have too many, my dear. How do you manage all five? And still look like you haven’t had a child at all?” You look over to her, and you knew she was staring at you before. The (e/c) of your eyes are cold as they look at her, through her. “Tell me, Lady Stark, are you happy in your marriage? I know Ned wasn’t the brother you wanted, but did you enjoy giving him five children?”

Her lips part, and you let out a small laugh. Catelyn forces herself to look away from you, to find her husband drinking ale with the the king. Your own husband had disappeared—likely with the queen, as he always was, you thought—leaving her with the knowledge that yours wasn’t a happy marriage. Ned, at least, was fond of her, and she him.

It was clear Jaime did not feel the same way about you. You were not in love, but there was a clear and mutual respect. Any love between you, if there had been any at all, faded over time.

You had been thrown into the lion’s den, and became a bitter lioness yourself.

“You know this isn’t how I meant for any of this to happen,” she pauses, nearly addressing you as Lady Lannister. She’s glad she doesn’t, the name doesn’t suite you even if it’s your official title.

“I know,” you say, “but what you mean doesn’t matter now, does it?” Your eyes meet again, before you both look out from the high table at the party. “Maybe Robert has a point,” you start, once more looking at Rohanne and Robb, “love not meant to be in one generation will take place in another.”

Before Catelyn knew it, you were walking away. A sight far too familiar, but one she had never gotten use to.

I made this ‘oil painting’ in PS for a Game of Thrones online RP where we have holds/castles etc, but it’s based originally on my fic I Burn, I Pine, I Perish following the POV of my OC, Vevynne Lannister (daughter of Ser Kevan and Dorna Swyft) . Anyway she eventually marries The Hound and Queen Daenerys elevates House Clegane to nobility and wardens of the west, so obviously they have a ~ portrait ~ and I like how my PS skills have advanced to this point SO!

But one can also pretend it’s Rebecca and Rory in a time period/fantasy piece together of non-specific origin and that’s fun too bc I love them both <3