Character Development - Arthur Weasley

AU - age 29 - first wizarding war
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Being the middle child is not exactly easy. Everyone seems to think it is, but it's really not. You have to live up to the expectations set by your older siblings while still being a good example for the younger ones. It's really all about balance - finding the line and walking straight along it. Of course you'll probably wobble a bit now and again, but it's something you'll learn to live with. You'll never be the best, but at least you won't be the worst, either. You'll always be right in the middle. Average. It's just who you are.

That was Arthur Weasley's life. It was the life he was born into as the second son of a second son of a second son. All middle children who swore to break the chain of average middle children - should they have that many. They did. None had succeeded, however, in making their middle son feel anything other than, well, average. Of course, little Arthur had no idea that his father might have made such a vow, and in fact, would probably never find out.

For the first four years of his life, Arthur was in his elder brother's shadow, following in his footsteps with a goofy smile on his adorable face. His parents loved them both very much. But just two? It was far from enough children for this Weasley family. Septimus and Cedrella, who had been burnt off the Black family tree for marrying a Weasley, had intended to have at least five children. When Arthur was four, his younger brother was born, but due to some strange complications with the pregnancy, there would be no more Weasley children- or any children for that matter- born of Cedrella. Despite the rather depressing news, Septimus and Cedrella welcomed their third child into their family and their home, glad to have the three they had.

While Septimus and Cedrella loved each of their children, they never seemed to realize what it felt like for Arthur growing up. He had to be more like his big brother, who was showing strong signs of magic at the age of seven; he had to set a good example for his younger brother, always being the one to take the baby's hand and lead him forward. Now, it really wasn't so bad. Arthur had a very loving family, after all. He just tended to get a little bit overshadowed. His elder brother got the praise for doing everything the first time - it was therefore less impressive when Arthur managed it. His younger brother was, well, the baby, which meant he got a lot of extra attention as babies tended to receive. Which left Arthur right in the middle of it all.

Arthur could remember the day his elder brother got his Hogwarts letter nearly perfectly. It had been raining and very grey. Not one of the boys were allowed to go outside. Might catch cold their mother had said. Which meant they only had the option to play indoors for the day. Arthur had been watching the window when the owl came with the letter. He had been almost as excited has his elder brother had been, a wide grin on his face. There had been so much excitement throughout the household that day. The first son of the current generation of Weasleys was about to go off to Hogwarts! There was a trip to London, ice cream, and they even bought an owl! It was so much excitement Arthur was nearly falling asleep on the way home.

It was September first. Arthur was holding the hand of his younger brother on the platform as they waved the eldest off to his first year at Hogwarts. Arthur patted his crying baby brother on the back, promising they'd see the eldest again and not to worry; before long, they'd both be at Hogwarts, too.

Christmas finally came. Arthur's eldest brother came home with stories upon stories upon stories to tell to his two younger brothers who sat, enrapt by his words. He pulled something out of his bag and handed it to the youngest. It was a small wrapped box. He did the same for Arthur. Upon opening the box, wrapping paper strewn about, Arthur found a most curious item. His brother told him it was a "rubber duck" and he had gotten it from his muggle-born friend. Arthur was more than a little fascinated with the item. In fact, one might even have said he'd grown obsessed with it. It was there, in that moment, that Arthur knew he wanted to study muggles, to somehow work between the magical & Muggle worlds. He wasn't sure how he was going to do it yet, but he knew he would get there one day. It was his dream.

Two years passed and all that happened was Arthur's love for all things Muggle growing deeper and deeper. Well, and he got his Hogwarts letter, of course. Now, with his elder brother's hand-me-downs and a wand of his own, Arthur waved goodbye to his family as he stepped foot on the Hogwarts Express. It was even more incredible than he could have imagined. It would be four more years before his youngest brother would get to experience this, but Arthur was still looking forward to that day.

Upon arriving at Hogwarts, Arthur could hardly contain his excitement. His elder brother was no where to be seen, but that wasn't much of a surprise, really, considering the difference in years. The boats, though! Arthur loved the boats. He could recall a commotion coming from one of the other boats, but other than that, it had been perfect, like a dream. The way the lights played on the surface of the pristine lake. It was something Arthur would never forget - a story he would be sure to tell his younger brother, and, eventually, his own children. Arthur wondered how anything could be as amazing and perfect as that boat ride, and honestly, never expect anything to match the wonder he'd felt on the lake that night.

The Sorting Hat had barely touched Arthur's ginger hair before it had shouted out GRYFFINDOR! With a wide grin on his face, Arthur joined the Gryffindor house table - his elder brother was there, cheering the loudest. A few more first years were sorted before Arthur heard the name of the woman he subconsciously decided he was going to marry: Molly Prewett. His jaw dropped, his heart fluttered. He didn't really know it yet - because he was only eleven years old - but he was really in love. She was just so perfect, more so than the boat ride across the lake, and now, now he knew for sure, nothing else would ever be as beautiful.

Arthur tried several times throughout his first year at Hogwarts to talk to Molly, but she never seemed to notice him. Perhaps he was just too quiet, or maybe it was that he was just too...average. But it didn't matter. There were still years ahead of them in which he would be able to finally find the perfect way to talk to her.

Year two, and nothing to show for it. Well, aside from having a bit of a spat with a few other purebloods. The Weasley family were known to be blood traitors. Arthur, as it turns out, felt very strongly about this. He stood up for a couple of his (mostly) new muggle-born friends, and it sure got a bit messy. Luckily, almost no one was around to see it all. Arthur knew that, from that day onwards, he would never give a second thought to blood purity. Sure, he'd been told to treat all wizards equally by his parents, but he had never encountered such venom and bitterness all because of blood, and he knew that the purebloods were wrong. It was a belief that would come to shape much of his later life.

Third year arrived with much excitement from Arthur. This was the year. It had finally come! It was the first year he would be able to take the Muggle Studies class, and he could hardly wait. It was strange, though, because despite his excitement, it still seemed as though he blended into the background, hardly noticed by anyone - save when they needed someone to pick on or cheat off of. He was, after all, still a middle child. Yes, of course he had friends, but he was never special. He didn't seem to stand out in his classes, despite being rather clever, and he certainly didn't stand out in the looks department considering his tall, lanky, gangly appearance. But it really didn't bother him. He was happy with his life, and he knew, eventually, that he would talk to Molly Prewett, and, somehow, win her heart.

Muggle Studies was not quite what Arthur had imagined it would be, but it was amazing nonetheless. He learned a lot more than he might have expected, but that comes with growing up in a pureblooded family, he supposed. In fact, he was fairly certain no one he'd ever known in his entire family had ever really had contact with a real Muggle. Muggle-borns, sure, but not a Muggle. He wondered if he'd ever get the opportunity to meet a Muggle in real life - he had so many questions already! He dug deeper than probably any previous student in the Muggle Studies class, forsaking some of his other classes in order to do so, even. Muggle Studies had captured Arthur's mind. It was all he could think about, and he knew that he would, one way or another, work with Muggles and their interesting culture - whether it be directly or indirectly.

At the start of his fourth year at Hogwarts, Arthur's youngest brother joined Gryffindor. Arthur cheered the loudest - even louder than their eldest brother. It was incredible to be able to be there to answer whatever questions his little brother had. Granted, a majority of them seemed to be asked in secret - the youngest didn't want to look uncool in front of his new classmates. Arthur had simply chuckled to himself before turning back to the Muggle book he was reading - it was about electricity! - and staring over the top of the pages at Molly Prewett, laughing with her friends.

Arthur tried talking to Molly again. He didn't do any better at the age of fourteen than he had at the age of eleven. He knew now, though, that when his heart raced as he thought of her, that it might be love. Then again, maybe it wasn't. One Hogsmeade weekend, Arthur was asked to visit Madam Puddifoot's with a rather awkward Ravenclaw. She was a nice enough girl, and of course Arthur had said yes, but he knew, even from that one little date, that she wasn't the one for him. It only made him yearn for Molly all the more.

It was time for Arthur to study for his O.W.L.s. Boy, was he nervous. He knew he wanted to get into something relating to Muggles, but he had never really taken the time to figure out what sort of field that could be. Wizard-Muggle relations? But that sounded so...stiff. Would he be able to be the same person if that were his career path? This required some serious thinking. And perhaps some serious studying. As long as he got high enough marks in Muggle Studies, and most of the other classes he might need a N.E.W.T. level class for, well... he'd be alright.

Arthur went on a few more dates with the rather awkward Ravenclaw. She was nice, but Arthur felt wrong about it all. He knew he had to put an end to it before she started thinking things were getting serious and got hurt more than she already would be. He made sure to end it gently, away from crowds and the like. But, of course, she was still hurt, still claimed she'd never be able to forgive him.

With sixth year starting, Arthur realized he was running out of time. He needed to get Molly to notice him, to fall for him as completely as he'd already done for her. But the question was how. He still had several classes on his plate, too: charms, potions, transfiguration, defense against the dark arts, and muggle studies, having just squeaked by on most of them. And yet, somehow, his classes seemed so dull now that time was running out on his Molly problem.

It was the middle of the year when Arthur finally got his chance. There was a party. Molly was there. And thank Marlin for liquid courage, eh? He remembered inhaling deeply, thinking about how he really needed to just...talk to her...and then his memory went blank. Well, until the two of them were in the hallway. Molly was wobbling rather ferociously. She even fell and scraped her knee. Arthur was sorry he hadn't been able to catch her in time. He didn't laugh - that would have been rude - he simply helped her up. The next thing he knew, she had kissed him - was kissing him. And it was everything he had hoped it would be. His heart skipped a beat, it felt like he had wings. He knew that if she were by his side, he could do anything. And as much as he loved that kiss, the taste of her lips, he pulled back shyly, wrapped his arm around her shoulders and helped her walk a bit more steadily. Who knows if she'd really wanted to kiss him or if it had just been the alcohol. Whatever the case, he wouldn't take advantage of her. They walked the grounds for hours that night, just talking. He told her all about his love of Muggles, his family...everything; and he wanted to know every little thing about her, drinking in her every word as though he were dying of thirst. It was four in the morning when they returned to the Gryffindor common room, and Arthur was sure he'd never had a better day at Hogwarts than this one.

The next day was in competition with Arthur's night out with Molly for a long time. The only reason was because Molly was no longer ignoring him. He had done it! The way she waved to him, the smile on her lips... It distracted him for the entire day. It was no use doing his homework - he'd only end up scribbling her name all over the parchment. The next chance he got, he asked if she would go to Hogsmeade with him - to Madam Puddifoot's. He was over the moon when she agreed. If anyone were to ask Arthur, it had been a perfect date. Arthur figured Molly had liked it - and him - well enough since she kept talking to him after the fact. And she didn't seem to mind the nickname he'd come up with for her after the night of the party, either: Mollywobbles.

By the time they were leaving Hogwarts, the threat of war was coming. It loomed like a dark cloud on the horizon. Who knew what could happen tomorrow? The future was being tossed about like a ship in a storm, always uncertain. Arthur had turned to Molly one afternoon when they were having a quiet lunch together during the Christmas holiday, when she had said "Let's elope, Arthur." Despite the surprise, Arthur was more than overjoyed that she would want to marry him. He agreed, and soon after leaving Hogwarts, they ran away together. Of course Arthur wrote to his family later, explaining everything. They weren't upset, really. Rather, they seemed rather excited to meet Molly, and Arthur couldn't wait to introduce her.

Arthur was only twenty years old when his first son was born. William, they named him - Bill for short. He was a beautiful baby boy, and Arthur couldn't have been more proud. He had a good feeling that everything was going to go very well for the family he and Molly were growing. He was working at the Ministry, a junior assistant in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts office. It was everything he could have dreamed of in a job! And he'd been hired just after he and Molly had eloped. It was perfect timing, too. The signing bonus was enough for them to buy an adorable little home with - The Burrow, they called it - and when little Bill was born, they began adding on to the house - as they would do for years to come with each new child as they needed more and more space.

Charlie was rather unexpected. Not that Arthur minded, of course, as he was looking forward to having a family - a real, and large, family with the love of his life. But two children, and so close together, made things difficult. Arthur found himself spending entirely too much time working in an attempt to make sure ends would meet - that his wife and two wonderful sons - would have all they could ever dream of. Arthur knew Molly needed him, but he also knew he had to provide for her, and he was torn. He never let Molly see the anguish he felt at being away from her so much; instead he always greeted her with love and warmth whenever he made it home.

The next four years were rough, but they evened out. Things were alright in the Weasley household. Arthur was making enough money to support his wife and two sons, himself, and own a home. Things were looking up. Aside from the looming cloud of war rolling in faster and faster. Arthur worried about his family. Would they be safe? He knew his own family had been labeled blood traitors long ago, and with the purists seeming to come out, Arthur was terrified that his family would be in danger. He would spend hours at work, worrying about it all, trying to see a way to protect them while still taking a stand against the purists and their backwards views. With all that weighing him down, the birth of Percy was a welcome distraction. Percy was just as perfect as his two older brothers, but it meant another mouth to feed. Arthur worried that he and Molly had made a mistake bringing another child into the world - this world in particular, one where someone would be thought of as less simply because of who their parents were. Still, Arthur believed his son to be a bright spot in a darkening world, and he was glad he and Molly had made the decision they did.

Two years passed. It was 1977, and the world was dark and full of terrors. Arthur and Molly had been talking about having another child - she really wanted a daughter, and who was he to deny her? Arthur had been in bed beside a sleeping Molly, trying to figure out their budget for the next baby, when the owl came. His parents had been murdered. They weren't sure who had done it, but Arthur had his suspicions considering the rising tensions between the purists and, well, everyone else. Arthur had never felt so infuriated in his entire life. First, they - whoever they really were - were creating a world in which Arthur was terrified for the futures of his children; second, they murdered his parents. It was too much. Arthur knew he had to do something. Arthur kissed his sleeping wife's forehead, wrote her a note explaining what had happened, and met his brothers at his parent's house to deal with the aftermath.

It wasn't long after his parents' deaths when Arthur was contacted by Albus Dumbledore. The elderly wizard explained calmly about a group he was building to fight against The Death Eaters. The group was called the Order of the Phoenix, and Albus was asking if Arthur would join the battle. Arthur said he needed some time to think about it. He didn't mention it to Molly at all. Now was not the time.

Molly and Arthur had decided on another child - might as well fill the world with good, if they could. Much to their surprise, one child turned out to be two: twins! Arthur had nearly fainted at the news. This would require a whole new budget - and a decent amount of overtime. At least Arthur had just been promoted from junior assistant to assistant - that would give them a little bit of extra money for sure, but it would still be rough. It was a miracle, to say the very least, that Arthur was actually home the very moment that Molly went into labor with the twins - and early, at that! It was a long labor. So long that Arthur found himself leaving in the middle to finish up some work and returning before it was over. But when it was, Arthur could hardly hold back the joy he felt at being a father once - or rather twice - again. 

After the twins were born, Albus approached Arthur again. He thought about his family and how worried he was that his children might grow up in a world where hating muggle-borns was considered right. He agreed to join the Order, even shook Dumbledore's hand. That night, when he came home, he explained it all to Molly. Of course, it had resulted in a fight. The biggest one they ever had. Arthur was firm in his belief that joining the fight was the only way to ensure that their children were raised in a safe, happy, non-discriminatory home. Molly begged him to reconsider, but he would not budge on this decision. Any other time, he would have willingly given into his wife's wishes, but this time...this time was different.

With the fight behind them, and Arthur on an incredibly rare holiday from work, he looked at his beautiful wife. He wanted to give her everything, and he knew how badly she wanted a daughter, and it made him want a daughter just as much. Arthur dreamed of the day a little Weasley girl would be born into the world - she would be the first for generations! - and the look on Molly's face at holding a daughter? Arthur would have given almost anything to see that look. He managed to convince Molly that the...fifth time would be the charm, really.

With Molly pregnant once again, Arthur is doing all he can at work to pull ends together, to provide for the family he's always wanted, that he has now. On top of all of that, he goes out, night after night, fighting with the Order against the Death Eaters, hoping for a better tomorrow. And Arthur knows, that somewhere out there, it's possible that his father is smiling, knowing that he finally raised a middle child who was more than just average. Arthur Weasley knew he was more than just a middle child: he was the hope for the future of his children.

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for a site called Infinite Arms

Character Development - Gwendolyn Tully (AU Game of Thrones)

15 - 283AL

Born in Riverrun, Gwendolyn was the second daughter of Edmure and Allyria Tully. The maesters and septas have told her that she was such a happy baby: red-faced with laughter more often than tears. Gwen would simply smile at the stories, continue with whatever it was she was doing, and wonder to herself if it were really true. She certainly didn't feel like someone who had been a happy baby-- not that she really knew what that felt like, though. Allyria doted on the infant in a way she hadn't quite done with her first born daughter. Not that the infant noticed, and, in fact, had she not later noticed the difference in the way her mother acted with her as opposed to her elder sister, Gwen might never have known at all.

14 - 284AL

The first year of little Gwen's life was uninteresting, to say the least. Nothing much happened. There was no plague, no anything, really. Yes, there were still people dying, but the plague was dying as well. Gwen was only one year old, and none of this really meant a thing to her. Generally speaking, Gwen simply laughed at everything and tugged on the skirts of those older than her. More importantly, at the tender age of one, Gwendolyn became a princess. Rhaegar split the seven kingdoms, and, being the second daughter of the now King of Riverrun, Gwen was a princess. And yet, she was still a child that did not understand the meaning of the words being told to her.

What did mean something to her, however, was the birth of another baby. Gwendolyn became a big sister. Sure, she might have only been one year old, but she loved the new baby. It wouldn't have come as shock to anyone to find out that the little princess thought the baby was her own personal doll, made just for her. It really was a wonderful time to be little Gwen.

13 - 285AL

Two years old and already a trouble maker. Well, sort of. Having already learned to walk-- and run-- little Gwen found her greatest pleasure in making everything a game of Hide & Seek. She would play with anyone willing to let her play with them, stranger or no. This was the year the last person infected by the plague died, ridding the world of the disease. All that meant to the two-year-old princess, though, was that she was no longer kept only within the confines of the castle, and was once carried out by her father on a visit to commonfolk. All little Gwen could see was a great deal of new people to play Hide & Seek with. It was a good thing her father did not put her down that day.

10 - 288AL

By the time she was five years old, Gwendolyn had become quite the little lady. She was almost perfect at her curtsy, and was able to recite a couple of short poems. On top of all that, she was learning how to sing, do needlepoint, and everything about all of the other houses and the history they all shared by being in Westeros. Gwen enjoyed learning, but she wanted to be able to do the things her elder sister was doing, too. There, growing deep down, was the seed of jealousy. Gwen knew her mother favored the eldest- perhaps it was the way her mother spoke of Alora, or perhaps it was something else, but somehow, Gwen felt sure she was correct. And while she was jealous, she did not let it bother her.

When it came right down to it, Gwen knew she would never be anything like her elder sister. Alora was tough, rigid, and inspiring. Gwendolyn was a romantic at heart, soft, and would likely find herself terrified were she to be in Alora's shoes.

Whenever she was not required to be indoors, Gwendolyn would find her way to the garden. There she would glance around before taking off her delicate shoes and dancing around in the dirt and grime. She would always come back indoors with a handful of flowers picked specially for her mother. Gwendolyn loved her mother, loved her sisters, and her father, too. Family, Duty, Honor. It was already engrained into her every day thoughts and actions, even at the tender age of five.

7 - 291AL

Gwendolyn was eight years old when she had her first dream about her future wedding. It was lovely and perfect. There had been cherry tarts, lemon cakes, and even apple crisps! She had looked stunning in her wedding gown, and her betrothed had been the most handsome man in all of Westeros. Upon waking, she could hardly wait to tell her younger sister and their handmaidens. Romance was all the little princess could think about nowadays. It was in all the stories - or so it seemed anyways. Gwen could hardly wait for the day when she would become a woman and have a beautiful wedding to a handsome man- perhaps a knight!- and they would live together in a castle, with several children, and a lifetime of true love.

It was a warm day when Gwen decided to slip out without permission. She found herself wandering around the garden, a soft smile on her lips. Stumbling upon a person she'd never met before, she greeted him kindly and asked what he was doing. The man explained to her that he was planting some new flowers. Interested in the idea, Gwen asked the man to teach her. He seemed rather nervous, but he hesitantly agreed once she began almost begging him.

Upon returning inside, Gwendolyn got quite the reprimand. She was covered in dirt- it had likely ruined the gown she'd been wearing- and she'd forgotten to bring her shoes back inside with her. Afterwards, Gwen was sitting alone on her bed, studying silently as she had been told to do. She had already been scrubbed clean after her gardening adventure, and there seemed to be no trace left of what fun she'd had that day.

5 - 293AL

Two years after the garden incident, Gwen finally asked her father to allow her to visit with the commonfolk. There was some deliberation between her father, her uncle, her mother, and her teachers. In fact, there was a couple days worth of deliberation before Gwendolyn was finally told she would be allowed to visit the commonfolk- but she was to remain under close supervision. Luckily, the person doing the supervising would be her uncle Bryndyn. Despite generally being afraid of the man, Gwen found she really did love her uncle, and this just proved it all the more.

The day they went out, he did not watch her like a hawk watching its prey. Instead, he gave her simple guidelines, and she found them easy enough to follow. It seemed everyone knew who she was, and she wondered if it was because of her hair, but she guessed it was more likely the fact that she had come riding in with her uncle on a horse waving the Tully banner, surrounded by a few good guards...and her dress was of a finer- and cleaner- material than anything they were wearing. She smiled at everyone she met, asked them a few questions about their lives, their flowers. In the whole day, Gwen found one person in particular whom she admired: a painter. He made such beautiful images using dyes, and it amazed Gwen. She wondered if it was a skill that would be easy to learn. Then again, considering the mess the man made, Gwen doubted she would be able to convince anyone that this painting skill would be better suited to a lady than learning needlepoint and weaving for tapestries.

3 - 295AL

The morning that Gwen woke in a pool of blood, she screamed. Loudly. It caused quite the commotion, really. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and it took her mother's soothing to calm her down. There was no need to be afraid, not really. It was simply the mark of womanhood. Gwen spent the rest of the day in bed after the sheets had been taken to be cleaned, that is, and replaced. She wondered why it was such a big deal if all she was going to do would be to stay in bed feeling like she was going to die. She asked her mother if it would always hurt this much. For the life of her, she could never recall her mother's answer, but Gwen liked to imagine her mother had said it would get better.

Lying there, in bed, gwen tried to imagine what this meant for her now. She was no longer a child, and it was time for her to stop acting like one. In the morning, she promised to act like a proper lady from then on. She was sure that within a few years time, she would be betrothed, anyways, so why not start acting like someone the knight in her dreams might be proud to call wife? Twelve was a good an age as any to be a proper wife, after all!

2 - 296AL

Ever since she had been granted her first adventure to visit the commonfolk, Gwendolyn took it for all it was worth. She visited as frequently as she could, talking with the people, smiling, laughing, singing, and, on occasion, dancing with them. She never told her father about the dancing- he would be sure to never allow her to return if he ever found out. There were a couple of farm girls, her age, whom Gwen had taken a particular liking to. She enjoyed their company, and were it not for the difference in their statuses, she might have called them friends. She wondered if she might be able to convince her father to bring at least one of them on as a new handmaiden. That way, at least, Gwen could spend all the time she liked with at least one of them. She made a note to ask about it later.

The jealousy that had started to grow years earlier finally buds. Gwen watches her elder sister with a doting look of anger. Gwen feels certain that Alora will be Queen of Riverrun one day, and it makes her want to scream, want to shout. Gwen was never as close to Alora as she was with Laisa, so she cannot be certain that her elder sister actually loves Riverrun as much as Gwendolyn does, and she believes that a queen that does not love her home should not rule it. The only person Gwen ever mentions her envious feelings to is Laisa. Laisa means the whole world to Gwen, and being only a year apart in age, they grew up doing just about everything together. Gwen made Laisa promise to never tell a single soul. So far as Gwen was ever aware, Laisa never did.

1 - 297AL

Fourteen years old and still without a betrothal. Where a good number of girls her age would see this as a terrible curse, Gwen looks upon it with optimism. That means she still has a chance to find her true love! Perhaps at the next tourney she'll meet themost handsome knight in all of Westeros, and he will ask for her hand. It is simply a lovely story she had made up in her head, and she sighs as she sits, staring out the window at the rivers, running fingers through her curls.

It is the middle of the year when she met a boy. She couldn't recall which house he hailed from, but she was certain it was one of the houses pledged to her father- Erenford? Wode? Perhaps Mooton? He was a few years her elder, but he had been so perfect- handsome, kind, strong... Gwendolyn was certain he had liked her just as much as she'd liked him. They had spent a short while talking, but never alone. When he had left, Gwen knew she would always be able to recall what his lips felt like against the back of her hand. She dreamt of him that night, and many nights afterwards. In fact, it was not uncommon that his was the face she now saw in dreams of her wedding day. He had said he would return, and Gwen wondered, with hope in her heart, when that day would come.

0 - 298AL

As the days came and went, Gwendolyn was beginning to believe the boy in her dreams would never come back to her. She wondered if perhaps she had simply imagined him the whole time. Her heart was heavy, but she went on living. She was fifteen now, practically an adult.

Being an adult, when Gwendolyn got the news that she was to wed Theon Greyjoy, of the Iron Isles, she managed to act like it was the best news she had ever gotten in her entire life. It wasn't. Truth be told, Gwen was excited that she was finally betrothed, that her wedding day was now only just around the corner; but she was not excited about to whom she was betrothed. She knew the reputation of the Iron Islanders- she had been a good student.

Gwendolyn sat in the window, looking out at the rivers she loved so dearly, thinking about her new betrothal, about the boy who would never come back for her, and about a home far away that she might never love. Would it really be as bad as she was making it all out to be? She hoped not, hoped she would be proven wrong. Whatever the outcome, Gwen promised herself to stay optimistic about it all. It was all she could do.

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for a site called A Call To Arms