Sansa knows, standing on the steps of the Great Sept, staring into Joffrey's triumphant eyes, the blood her father soaking the stones and all the Lannisters' beautiful promises ringing in her ears, that Starks have always been the best liars.

Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no husband and bear no children. I shall wear no gowns and no jewels. I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the shield that guards the realms of men. I pledge my life's blood to the Night's Watch, for this night and all the nights to come. -The Sisterhood of the Night's Watch

"You could always stay." "And what should I do at the Wall, Sam, style myself as the Night's Queen? Or Lady Commander of the Night's Watch?" "Well, we do let girls in nowadays."

The king is dead, but a cousin cannot inherit before a brother, or before a sister.

When Dorne became one of the Seven Kingdoms, they agreed to replace the Westeros Law of Inheritance with the Dornish Law, so that the same laws would be followed throughout the realm. Or, Five times there was no male primogeniture in Westeros, and this wasn't as helpful as you might expect.

Val didn't save Jon Snow - that was his direwolf and the red woman - but she did steal him.

Somewhere far away, far from the home she once knew – the home she can no longer remember, or she can but she does not wish too – there is a girl who does not remember her name, nor anything of the life she came from. Until the night she dreams of wolves.

There must always be a Stark in Winterfell, or: Sansa goes home.

When Tyrion neglects to impregnate Sansa with the heir to Winterfell, Tywin decides to take matters into his own hands. But Sansa is no longer a little Northern dove; she is a Lannister with nothing left to lose.

The common folk whisper about the Council of Kings and Queens that rules over Westeros. They whisper that they are the Seven reborn.

Jeyne Snow and her siblings as the world falls apart around them.

Lyanna Mormont keeps the ravens.

“-my mother was not Lyanna fucking Stark!” Jon exclaimed, before turning and kicking, vehemently at the sofa, enough to leave brown dustmarks on the purple cloth. He turned back to her, lifting a finger threateningly. “I don’t care what you say. But our father would never- never- sleep with his sister, in fact I don’t even know why I’m telling you this because guess what, Sansa? You should already know that!” [Sansa tries to tell Jon who his mother is. Jon thinks he’s an incest-baby. Which........ isn’t wrong.]

Lyanna Stark thwarts a kidnapping, and receives an interesting offer.

in which I repost fics of various length that I posted on tumblr based on a specific modern 'verse that was discussed with one or more anons on my tumblr a while ago. Premise: Jon is still R+L but went to live with the Starks around five-ish after both his parents pretty much realized they bit off more than they could chew. Features extra Jon Connington being the responsible adult, Robb being a gift, the Tullys being fairly great people and so on. Specific ficlets: 1) jon connington comes clean with rhaegar about his feelings in a way he hadn't predicted; 2) jon c. finds out that rhaegar named his kid after him; 3) robb is *extremely* invested in making sure jon's first birthday party turns out great (ned/cat, robb & jon); 4) robb takes his brotherly duties with jon very seriously, good for everyone involved; 5) jon's first christmas with the starks *and* tullys; 6) how jon c. and brynden tully get together in this 'verse and realize they're actually perfect for each other; 7) jon (snow) and ygritte have their first child... who looks like rhaegar, GENETICS!.

If you want a happy ending, that depends, of course, on where you stop your story.

King's Landing swallows Dornish princesses and chokes on their bones.

in which Ned doesn't die but wargs into one pigeon instead. Incidentally, it doesn't stop him from preventing a war and saving both his family and the entirety of Westeros.

“All right,” Ned Stark says. “You weren’t supposed to hear that. No one was supposed to, but I guess it’s my own damned fault for not keeping it to myself. Now, I know that if I told you to forget this you’d try, but I remember – I remember how it was when I was your age, myself. Boys of seven can forget that kind of promise easily, if they don’t know why they’re making it.” He takes in another breath. “Robb,” he says, his voice dropping so low it’s barely audible, “do you love your brother?” Or: in which Robb knows about Jon's true heritage all along.

When Robbie's vision cleared, his father, King Joffrey Baratheon, first of his name, lay unconscious upon the floor in a puddle of spilt wine. Robb Stark lived. Many things followed as a result - some impressive, several insane, and quite a few straight out of tales of the Age of Heroes. Perhaps the only unfortunate one among them was Joffrey remaining on the Iron Throne, his worst impulses and tendencies only barely held in check by those around him. Until the day he goes too far, and gets hit over the head with a pitcher of wine as a result.