Sura Hill

So Sura was a vague idea that never fully got off the ground. I got as far as her being the bastard of a Lannisport apothecary, who became quite skilled in poisons. She ended up in the employ of Tywin Lannister, who used her methods when he needed discretion to remove obstacles.

Ser Gareth Bulwer

[This stud was created during a 'create a character on the spot' game on my Tumblr]

Death Before Disgrace, the words of House Bulwer.

Gareth had known little beyond his family's seat in Blackcrown in the Reach and the crystalline shores of Whispering Sound until he became a soldier. Then he saw the world for what it truly was and how it could be for his family. His family was currently ruled by his cousin, Lady Alysanne, whose overload was Lord Leyton Hightower, who was ultimately ruled by the Tyrells, Mace Tyrell to be specific. Ruled by a girl, a weakling, and a fool. It was all so pathetic to Gareth. Alysanne wasn't even Blackcrown, but playing come-into-my-castle with Margaery in King's Landing as her lady attendant! House Bulwer and the Reach needed leadership, real leadership – strong, decisive, unafraid. Neither needed a simpering girl-child, a fool who not only supported that idiot Renly Baratheon but was often absent from his own small council and spent his time reading magical text instead of defending his liege lords' lands, or an old windbag whose sigil should be a fat man sitting on his ass for all the work he actually did.

No, Gareth had plans for the Reach, plans to raise the status of his own House, and plans to put Westeros back to how it was always meant to be: with Rhaegar's sole surviving legitimate son and heir, Prince Aegon Targaryen, on the Iron Throne.

Lady Helaena Velaryon, Lady of the Tides

[Helaena is only partially a plot bunny, as she is based upon a figure within book canon - Daemon's unknown wife who I built a minor plot around during, you guessed it, a 'character on the spot' game on my Tumblr lol]

Helaena was sister-wife to Daemon Velaryon – the head of House Velaryon, Master of Driftmark and Lord of the Tides – and mother to several children. As her husband was known as the Lord of the Tides, she was the Lady of the Tides and was known to spend a great deal of time at the ocean. The Velaryon's were close friends to Aegon, Visenya and Rhaenys Targaryen. After Aegon was crowned King of Westeros, for his loyalty, her husband was named Master of Ships and was given control of Aegon's fleet.

When House Arryn refused to bend the knee, her husband was sent to take the city of Gulltown off their coast of the Vale of Arryn. The hastily assembled Arryn fleet managed to repel the royal fleet and Daemon perished in the battle. Visenya, who had accompanied her brother's forces, destroyed the Arryn fleet with her dragon Vhagar in retaliation. Unable to withstand the loss of her love, Helaena leapt to her death from the highest tower of Castle Driftmark into Blackwater Bay. Her son, Corlys, eventually became the first Lord Commander of the Kingsguard and, due to the marriages of her granddaughter Alyssa, both House Targaryen and Baratheon are her descendants.

Lady Ysmay "Latchkey Locke" Sarsfield

[Okay, so I actually started to write this plot bunny in a fic called The Western Wolf, but I lost everything when my hard drive crashed last year so here we are]

Lady Ysmay Locke was a Northerner through and through. Growing up in Oldcastle, her family were loyal bannerman to their liege lord, Ned Stark, and so there were many days spent in Winterfell. "Latchkey Locke", they called her, for her father often left her alone or in the care of her Septa or Lady Stark; ironic, considering her House sigil. Even so, Ysmay didn't mind as she kept to herself and the library, conscious her of place and how her future was set in stone. Her father would have her married to a lord and she'd have his children, be lady of his keep, and be loyal to her family and liege until the end of her days. Falling in love with the Stark heir, Robb, had never been part of the plan. Anyone who saw them interact could see the blossoming love, and both Theon and Jon were all too aware of the couple's secret meetings. Ysmay had hoped her father would enter into negotiations with Lord Stark so that she and Robb could marry. But her father, though loyal to the North, was ambitious and wanted more for his only child and sought to better his position through her marriage. When she was seventeen, Ysmay was sent far away to the Westerlands to marry the only son and heir of Lord Melwyn Sarsfield, Olyvar.

Their marriage was strained that first year. While they were cordial to one another, it was plain to see that there was no love between them. Political marriages were marriages of duty, after all, not love. It wasn't until after their son, Galen, was born that the nature of their relationship changed. It wasn't love, not like she'd shared with Robb, but it had been a start of something she honestly hadn't expected when she'd married a stranger. Olyvar was some years older than her and had a bastard daughter, Marlise Hill, from an indiscretion several years prior. Ysmay had felt conflicted for some time, remembering how Lady Stark had always treated Jon, and decided she did not wish to inflict the pain Jon had always felt on the girl. It wasn't her fault that her mother had abandoned her to her father, and it wasn't her fault that she hadn't been granted a Septa to teach her so Ysmay took it upon herself. Marlise was a quick learner and loved her brother dearly, happily crafting him a bow -- the best archers in Westeros being from Sarsfield -- so that she might train him as their father had trained her when he was older. She was grateful to her stepmother for overlooking the nature of her birth and cared for her as if she were her own; it was a rare woman in Westeros to do such a thing.

By the time Galen was four, the family had settled into a normal life. And then Ned Stark was named a traitor and killed. Robb called his banners and marched to war. Olyvar's liege lord, Tywin Lannister, called his banners and soon Ysmay was left alone with her children and a small army to guard Sarsfield Castle. For many months, they lived in peace and awaited news for the return of Olyvar and Melwyn. Instead, an influx of smallfolk fleeing the Northern army came running to Ysmay's keep, begging for salvation and protection that she willingly gave. The married couple exchanged letters via raven as often as possible and as discreetly as possible, lest they be intercepted, until the ravens stopped coming. When one finally did, it was from Lord Roland Crakehall, informing her of the death of both her husband and his father during the Battle of Oxcross. Weeks into mourning, another raven came with a warning from Lord Damon Marband of Ashemark: the King in the North rides to Casterly Rock. Sarsfield was on the road to Casterly Rock; the North was coming.

Knowing the contingency of soldiers her husband would be nowhere near enough to mount a defense against Robb's army, Ysmay gathered the smallfolk inside her keep for safety and ordered her soldiers to prepare to surrender. As soon as her scouts spotted a small party heading towards their castle, Ysmay sent a single rider waving the white banner of peace to invite Robb and his council to negotiate her surrender. Ysmay greeted the party at the gates, delighted and conflicted to see her father standing beside Robb, but welcomed them inside to feast and negotiate in a civilized manner. Her father had been less than pleased to share the table with Marlise, but Ysmay fiercely defended her stepdaughter and reminded her father that he was a guest in her home so he could either respect her children or go back to his war camp.

When the negotiations were settled -- Ysmay allowing the North to claim Sarsfield and use of their land to camp so long as none of her men or smallfolk were harmed -- she set about seeing her guests to rooms to rest. Robb had been the last and both had been nervous, being alone together for the first time in years. He took her castle and she took his heart. Although, in truth, she had claimed it years ago. She'd carried it far away South on her father's command. Robb wonders if she still loves him, for he had not stopped loving her. Ysmay did love him still, so much and so fiercely that it frightened her but that didn't stop her from succumbing to years of love and lust. But their blissful reunion soon came to end as Robb had to leave and continue his war. His father was dead but his sisters were still prisoners and he had to free them.

It wasn't long after Robb left that Ysmay discovered she was carrying his child and, months later, Alaric Sarsfield was born. No one dared speak against Ysmay when she said the child was her late husbands, the small army and smallfolk loyal to her for her enduring kindness and protection. But the truth was obvious to any who saw the child, who had his father's Tully coloring, and rumors soon began to spread through the taverns across the Westerlands until they finally reached King's Landing.

[Now, my hard drive crashed after this point so I have no idea what I would've done next. I wasn't sure if I would've gone through with Robb being killed, or marrying the Frey girl and sorting out that drama later. I definitely remember I had a plan of Jaime coming to Ysmay and swearing fealty to her. He says in the books that Sansa is his last chance for honor, but Brienne has sworn herself to her in the show so I wanted to have Jaime swear himself to Robb's bastard son. Not just to protect him from the many enemies had unknowingly had in the South, but to protect Ysmay as well. She undoubtedly would've been branded a traitor, since Cersei wouldn't accept the slight of a wife of a Lannister bannerman having a Northern usurper's bastard, so I wouldn't put it past her to try and have her killed along with her son. I mean, this is the woman that ordered all of Robert's bastards killed to protect Joffrey's rule. But the idea of the two swords forged from Ice protecting the heirs of the North -- Brienne for Sansa and Jaime for Alaric -- has a lot of poetic symmetry that I really enjoy.]

Iole/Vōljes

[Iole is someone that emerged recently but I just don't have the time or the patience to write]

Born in Volantis, Iole learned at a young age that the only way to gain power was to take it.

Being sold to a pleasure house in Lys before she'd even flowered so her sellsword father could continue to gamble and drink taught her to grow up fast and to trust and depend only on herself. It was a hard lesson, but it served its purpose. A single tear tattoo beneath her right eye marked her as a prostitute; the tattooing of slaves was law in Volantis, so her mark only added to her mystique and value in Lys. The blood of Old Valyria still ran strong in the Lyseni; they were regarded as the most beautiful people in the known worlds. Even the smallfolk had pale skin, silver-gold hair and lilac or pale blue eyes like the dragonlords of old so Iole, with her rich black hair and dark eyes, was a rare commodity and her master renamed her Vōljes.

Many of the wealthy families sought to breed her with their own slaves, a despicable but common practice done in hopes of producing the most beautiful courtesans and bed slaves. She was spared this fate when the highest bidder was Prince Oberyn of Dorne, who had been temporarily exiled to Lys for being suspected of poisoning Lord Edgar Yronwood. Oberyn bought her from the pleasure house outright and granted Iole her deepest wish: freedom. Of a sort. Her freedom from slavery and prostitution came with the price of her knowledge. Before he'd sampled and bought her, Oberyn had many discussions with Vōljes about the local lords during his months in exile and, becoming too comfortable with him, she forgot herself and said too much. She let him know she knew too much, that she was far more than a simple-minded whore. Oberyn had freed her but sought to use her mind to his own gain but, so long as she never had to do her work on her back again, it was a price she was willing to pay in return for the blood of her master. And the blood of her father; Oberyn let her take his herself.

Eventually, she had a network of spies at her disposal. She knew about the goings-on in Westeros: the War of the Five Kings, the tragic death of her benefactor and friend the Prince, and even of the Dragon Queen. Deciding to take matters into her own hands, Vōljes made her way to Daenerys in Qarth. To prove her value and loyalty to the temperamental lady, she helped her flee the city without a scratch after her assassination was ordered by the Tourmaline Brotherhood, the Pureborn, and the Ancient Guild of Spicers. In Mereen, she continued to prove her worth and Daenerys named Vōljes her Master of Whisperers. But as Daenerys continued to spiral and became more erratic after they landed in Westeros, ignoring the advice of her council, Vōljes began to regret her decision to support Daenerys' claim to the Iron Throne. She'd never even seen it, she wasn't Westerosi, why did she care about a people who so clearly feared a queen she barely knew herself? Even after the Night King was killed, she could see the famed Targaryen madness rearing itself. Left with no choice, she turned to the only person in Winterfell who had been kind to her, the shrewd Lady Sansa Stark, who she'd become quite enamored with.

"I've thought about death so much that the idea of it is almost a comfort. That at any moment, it could all be over and I could be at peace. But I abhor being afraid. I thought I'd left my fears back in Lys...back in that bed, with my collar and chains. I might have come here with Daenerys but I am afraid. I am afraid of her, of her power...and of what she has yet to do with it. You're right not to trust her, Lady Sansa. But you can trust me."

"Can I? I've been told that before, many times, and it was always a lie. Every time. What makes you so different? I don't know you. Why should I trust you?"

"Do you know what Vōljes means? It's Valyrian, it means "raven". I suppose my master thought it clever but its not my name. My name...my real name, is Iole. My father was Ashur, a sellsword and a drunkard, and my mother was a seamstress. Vorena, her name was Vorena. She was kind and patient, gentle. Not very beautiful but, to me, she was; I think all children think that of their mothers. She taught me to swim in the Summer Sea and, after I'd exhaust myself, she'd wrap me in silks, carry me home and sing me to sleep. She had a beautiful voice. I used to dream one of the wealthy families would be her patron, so she could sing in comfort for the rest of her life instead of working until her fingers bled. My father killed her when he found her sleeping with a Lysene sailor. He made me watch, then he made me clean her blood from the floor. The last thing he said to me before he sold me to my master was, "A whore's daughter belongs in a whorehouse." I've never spoken to anyone of her, or of my past. You are the only person who knows who I truly am."

"You never told the Dragon Queen?"

"No. I told no one because I never trusted them. Not even Prince Oberyn knew and he freed me, educated me; he was my friend and I mourn him but I knew he used me for his own gain the same way I used him and the same way she uses me. I do not trust her. But I trust you. And if you give me the chance...I will shield your back, and keep your counsel, and give my life for yours. I swear it by the old gods and the new. ...I'll swear it to the Red God too, if you like."

"No, I don't think I would. ...What you're doing is treason."

"That is a risk I am willing to take."

"Then I vow that you will always have a place by my hearth and meat at my table. I pledge to ask no service of you that may bring you dishonor. I swear it by the old gods and the new."

Lady Jocelyn Ryder née Strong

(My friend Maddie -- maddierose on AO3 and Maddie Rose on ffnet -- was gracious enough to let me play in her universe and this is where Jocelyn came from)

The middle child of Lord Lyonel Strong, Lady Jocelyn was always a rambunctious sort. For years, it was just her and her elder brother, Harwin; he'd wanted a brother but she would make due until he was gifted one. A standard education like all ladies of noble Houses filled her days, but Harwin always made time to teach her more improper things like hunting. He claimed his greatest achievement was her mastery of archery, though he also claimed he let her win whenever they competed against one another.

When she came of age, however, it was time to put aside childish things and she was quickly married off as expected. Her husband was Lord Rodrik Ryder of the Rills, the last of his House. At least she was still in the North, her father had been kind in that regard. She bore him a daughter, Alarra, shortly into their marriage but no more children followed. Certainly no heirs. The laws of the land dictated that only sons could inherit their fathers ancestral land and title. So when her good husband died some years later without a sufficient heir, his House became extinct and his seat of power fell into the custody of House Ryswell. 

Rather than endure living in Harrenhal alone, Jocelyn joined her father and brothers in Kings Landing. It was there she became acquainted with Valko Sand, a bastard serving as the sworn sword of Lady Demelza Dayne of Dorne.