#Twow spoilers

[sinematically]

watched avatar 2 with my mom yesterday and her review was “not enough violence, Jake should have listened to his wife” and yeah I agree mom.

[dreamerthetimelady]

Some Kiri gifs because I love her <3

Avatar: The Way of Water (2022)

[laurellerual]

One thing I love about Arya in the book is that her physical appearance (hair) and looks reflects her situation most of the time so I was wondering if you had a favorite Arya outfit in the books ? And why ?

💜💜💜

Funny purple cape! It's just a weird choice... and has lots of pokets with intersting stuff in them

[winterfieldfrontiers]

After I watched AVATAR: THE WAY OF WATER

AVATAR: THE WAY OF SHIPS

8/10 not gay enough, just kidding, it’s a great movie along with TOP GUN: MAVERICK, YOU SHOULD GO TO WATCH IT IN HOLIDAY!!!

[realisticmermaid]

Notice Neteyam’s hand on top of his dad’s during this scene… these family moments are going to be too much for me🥺

[jeyneofpoole]

[jackoshadows]

I think Jon Snow's assassination is confirmation that Jeyne Poole is headed to Braavos.

As Theon points out in the TWoW sample chapter, if mutiny had not happened at the Wall, the charade would be up with Jon Snow noticing that Jeyne is not Arya. And there's no reason for anyone to take Jeyne Poole to Braavos.

Pay it, aye, thought Theon. Pay it with false coin. Jon Snow would see through the imposter surely at once. Lord Stark’s sullen bastard had known Jeyne Poole, and he had always been fond of his little half-sister Arya. - Theon, TWoW

Justin Massey, however, has lost his lands and Stannis is ready to reward him only if he returns. Stannis also declares that Asha Greyjoy is already married and Massey thinks that Stannis is overconfident and will be defeated.

With Jon Snow now dead, I can see Justin Massey having designs on Arya Stark and trying to claim Winterfell that way. And Jeyne would prefer getting far away from the Boltons rather than staying in Westeros/The Wall. Ironically Braavos is where Jon Snow wanted to send the real Arya. And yes, Alysane Mormont may continue accompanying 'Arya Stark' to Braavos.

And because Jon Snow is dead/being resurrected - whatever - Justin Massey is going to travel on from Castle Black (CB) to Eastwatch-By-The-Sea (EBTS) without Jeyne ever meeting Jon.

Jeyne would however know of what happened to the Lord Commander or the 'Black Bastard of the Wall' as he's known on Braavos. And that's information she's most surely sharing with the real Arya Stark when they meet.

And that's one of the chapters I am most looking forward to. Jeyne and Arya meeting after some two plus years, two kids who knew each other in Winterfell. And their differences now.

And if Justin Massey is able to travel via CB to EBTS that means the situation at the Wall should have stabilized a bit with Stannis' people (The Kingsmen/Queensmen) having some semblance of power or control. The only POV who can give us all this - the situation at the Wall, what is happening with Jon, Justin and Jeyne passing through etc. - is Melisandre. I am expecting a lot of Melisandre POV chapters in TWoW.

[carcrash-white]

TWOW SPOILERS

Davos: Rickon Stark, it is I, Davos Seaworth, loyal hand to the true king Stannis Baratheon. I have been sent by Wymann Manderley, your late fathers deceptive but still loyal liege who seeks to use your surperior claim to Winterfell to wrench your ancestral home away from the dastardly Boltons, the vampire coded almost comically evil Lannister supported Lords who betrayed your brother at the Red Wedding and now brutalize your helpless subjects. Rise Rickon Stark! Come with me and we can make everything right!

Rickon:

[rohanneofcoldmoat]

I cannot stop thinking about the blow that hearing Tarth has fallen will be to Brienne in Winds. All throughout Feast, in her lowest moments, Tarth is always at the back of her mind as a place of safety, of refuge, a place to retreat to when she feels like she has failed in her quest. There's a part of her that yearns for Tarth, and for her father. In Winds, that mental crutch will be gone. And the blow will be so out of nowhere too! Brienne has no reason to believe any danger is looming over her father and her island. When she's thinking about where Sansa could be in her first chapter, she tries to put herself in Sansa's shoes, and thinks that for herself, the answer of where to turn if she were a maid alone and afraid, in desperate danger, would be easy. She would make her way back to Tarth, to her father. But Sansa can't do that, and now, neither can Brienne. And of course, she will learn all this right off the back of however the Stoneheart situation pans out. Tarth has fallen, and Brienne will no longer have that safe harbor to return to in Winds.

[addamvelaryon]

Once, in the dungeon before this one, a woman brought his food in place of Euron’s mute. A young thing, buxom and pretty. She dressed in the finery of a greenland lady. In the lantern light she was the loveliest thing Aeron had ever seen.

“Woman,” he said, “I am a man of god. I command you, set me free.”

[...]

“And who are you, child?”

“Falia Flowers, Lord Hewett’s natural daughter. I am to be King Euron’s salt wife. You and I will be kin, then.” 

Aeron Damphair raised his eyes to hers. His scabbed lips were crusted with wet porridge. “Woman.” His chains clinked when he moved. “Run. He will hurt you. He will kill you.”

[...]

Naked as the mouthless maiden, her smooth belly just beginning to swell with the child she was carrying, her cheeks red with tears, she did not struggle as the boys tightened her bonds. Her hair hung down in front of her face, but Aeron knew her all the same.

“Falia Flowers,” he called. “Have courage, girl! All this will be over soon, and we will feast together in the Drowned God’s watery halls.”

I like the transition from Aeron asking Falia to free him, then urging Falia to run away, and in the end, offering her whatever comfort he can in their final moments together as Euron’s blood sacrifices.

There is also something curious about Aeron addressing Falia only as ‘woman’, in a way that might be considered almost crude (Ironborn typical misogyny), even after she tells him her name. But in the moment when they’re tied up on the prow of the Silence, and Falia has been very obviously dehumanized, Aeron does not deny Falia her personhood and chooses to acknowledge her by name instead. “Aeron knew her all the same.”

I think it could be considered a callback to some of the ideas presented in Theon’s chapters: “You have to know your name.”/“This time I knew you.”

[atopvisenyashill]

elia sand, queen of (what’s left of) the seven kingdoms

HEAR ME OUT.

probably the biggest and most important question after you accept “king bran in harrenhal” into your life, is but bran can’t have kids. that’s correct. or well, it’s potentially correct - everyone in universe seems to think he won’t be physically capable of having a child because of his paralysis. BUT. that doesn’t mean he won’t marry nor does that mean that there isn’t a potential benefit to him not being able to have children.

now, there have been several marriages made to bring peace after conflict - dorne is involved in several of thess with the matches of maron & daenerys as well as daeron & myriah. the marriages of robert & cersei and jaehaera and aegon iii were…less successful attempts at this. so even if bran isn’t expected to have kids, it’s possible that a marriage for him would see prudent as a way of brokering peace in some symbolic way. what better candidate than dorne, really, given the similarities between their people and what dorne & the north have lost (in differing colors for formatting reasons)-

"I promise." Promise me, Ned, Lyanna's voice echoed. The prince is a sentimental man, and he still mourns his sister Elia and her sweet babe.

Lyanna had only been sixteen, a child-woman of surpassing loveliness. Ned had loved her with all his heart. "As children Elia and I were inseparable, much like your own brother and sister."

That was his curse. Robert would swear undying love and forget them before evenfall, but Ned Stark kept his vows. He thought of the promises he'd made Lyanna as she lay dying, and the price he'd paid to keep them. "If you die before you say her name, ser, I will hunt you through all seven hells," he promised.

Archmaester Brude, who was born and raised in the shadow city that huddles beneath the crumbling walls of Sunspear, once famously observed that Dorne has more in common with the distant North than either does with the realms that lie between them.

"Robert, I ask you, what did we rise against Aerys Targaryen for, if not to put an end to the murder of children?" "Four lives will suffice for me. Lord Tywin's golden twins, as payment for Elia's children. The old lion, for Elia herself. And last of all the little king, for my father." "The boy has never wronged us."

but why justify elia sand specifically though? well-

Robb bristled at that. "The Westerlings are better blood than the Freys. They're an ancient line, descended from the First Men. The Kings of the Rock sometimes wed Westerlings before the Conquest, and there was another Jeyne Westerling who was queen to King Maegor three hundred years ago."

Arianne read the letter thrice, then rolled it up and tucked it back into her sleeve. A dragon has returned to Westeros, but not the dragon my father was expecting...Fire and blood was what Jon Connington (if indeed it was him) was offering as well. Or was it? "He comes with sellswords, but no dragons," Prince Doran had told her, the night the raven came… “Elia's son... I would weep for joy if some part of my sister had survived, but what proof do we have that this is Aegon?"

wild Elia Sand, a maid of ten-and-four.

Five yards from the gates Elia Sand came flying from the cloud of dust behind them to rush past both of them on her black filly. “Are you half horse, child?" Valena asked, laughing, in the yard. "Princess, did you bring a stable girl?" “I'm Elia," the girl announced. "Lady Lance."

Not even Lord Rickard's daughter could outrace him, and that one was half a horse herself.

When his fallen foes sought to ransom horse and armor, the Knight of the Laughing Tree spoke in a booming voice through his helm, saying, 'Teach your squires honor, that shall be ransom enough.' Once the defeated knights chastised their squires sharply, their horses and armor were returned. And so the little crannogman's prayer was answered.

"Rise. Tell me, who is Lyanna Mormont?" "One of Lady Maege's daughters, Sire. The youngest. She was named for my lord father's sister."

so two joust loving, sassy 14 year old girls are rolling up to A Targaryen Prince who is about to be TESTED by all his Promised Princeliness. Elia Sand, named after Elia, Rhaegar’s wife, and Lyanna, who has a living namesake in Lyanna Mormont. robb justifies his marriage to jeyne by saying kings have married westerlings before…and if elia and aegon elope like some other Unruly 14 Year Old/Targaryen Prince, he has the power to legitimize her, and this excuse could be used again.

As everyone decides what should be done about Bran’s marriage, Elia Sand is pressed forward - she’s around his age (only four years older), she has been legitimized (is perhaps even going by Elia Martell), she is, like jeyne westerling, a crownless little queen without a princely son or a living kingly husband. And as people start to grumble about her baseborn heritage, Arianne will point out that no one is expecting Bran to have children, and it’s merely symbolic - a way of giving Dorne a say in rebuilding Westeros, and if attempting to reunite what’s left of the kingdoms.

[undercoverpan]

A young boy opens his eyes, facing the ceiling. He does not recognise the room he is in, but doesn't panic.

Well, he would, but he can't. He can feel a vague sense of something in the back of his head, but he can't grasp it. Like running water slipping through his fingers. He could focus on it, but then his mind aches worse than his body. It feels like a bleeding wound, and the more he presses, the more blood and pus leaks out. It hurts, he doesn't like it. It's–, it's–,

"Scary?" 

A helpful voice responds from right next to him. There is a large creature, with blue skin and yellow eyes, sitting next to him. He has his large blue hands through his hair, running a hand through short, (short, short, short, why?) curly locks that just reached a bit past his shoulders. They are slightly matted, but the creature's fingers gently pull them apart. He is so patient with his hair, he wonders if they do this often.

He does not respond, but the creature takes this as confirmation. Unfocused brown eyes are still staring at the ceiling, no longer seeing anything. His head, it's in his lap, right? The rest of his body is curled on the cold floor, but he barely registers his form shivering.

"Miles? You've gotta talk to me, that's how this works."

Miles. Who's Miles? He twitches, tilting his head. Dull brown eyes shone lifelessly, but managed to hold a questioning gaze.

The creature huffs. "You're Miles, remember?"

The boy, 'Miles', frowns. He blinks once, twice, before narrowing his eyes. Still, his lips remain firmly pulled together.

"I'm Quaritch. I'm—-," he hesitates, "--I'm your dad, remember, Miles?" The creature leans over, and they look at each other. His hair is long compared to his, he noted. His eyebrows are pulled downward, and there's this emotion in his eyes that he cannot place. They stare silently.

'Quaritch' looked away, muttering something about Jesus Christ (is that also his 'dad'?) and that something was being taken too far. Strange. Was Quaritch always this strange?

"C'mon kid, you're telling me you have no idea who I am? Who you are?" He asked, and his tone shifted. Something about it stirs an emotion deep in him, one that hurts. He doesn't like it. It makes him feel small and useless, and he kind of is, at least in Quaritch's lap. He muttered even more, the hand in his hair holding onto him securely.

He has done something wrong, hasn't he? It's the only thing that can explain the, the shame that has crept upon him. How does he fix this? Can he fix this? Will he hurt him? What's going to happen?

The hand in his hair trails down to his face, gently cupping his cheek. "Don't worry about anything, kid. I'll talk to Ardmore, see if I can do anything."

Miles wants to ask who Ardmore is, but decides against it. He has a feeling that knowing won't do him any good. So he just focuses on the warm hands on his skin and lets himself drift.

_______

There's no way to tell time in this room. He still doesn't know where he is, but that's not bothering him. He knows time has passed since Quaritch was here, though. Pale legs are crossed on top of each other as he sits on the bare mattress in his room. The room is mostly empty, cold and grey. There is only the mattress and a thin blanket. The door leading in is heavy, and has a slot that they pass his food through.

He's already eaten today.

_______

There is a blue creature in the room. He doesn't know who or what it is (I don't know anything, I don't know anything, please pleaseplease), or what it wants. Its hands are on his shoulder, its mouth wide and stretched upwards, revealing sharp fangs. The eyes, a sharp yellow colour, look friendly. Is it friendly?

"Miles! C'mon kid, I'm taking you out!" It said, it's tail swishing back and forth. The boy blinked owlishly at it and the creature sagged.

"We've been over this. You're Miles. I'm Quaritch. I'm your dad." Quaritch said. It straightens itself and turns to walk away, it's arm pulling him along. Miles stops as the door opens, his breath hitching. He feels himself freeze and pull back. Quaritch runs a hand through his hair. It feels safe and warm.

He follows it--him? outside. The floor is just as cold, but the air is less stale. This room is no less new to him than the room he woke up in. It has more inside, tables and chairs and papers littered with symbols that hold no meaning to him. There are other figures in this room, wearing all white, watching him as he passes by. Their eyes make him uneasy. He clings to his dad, who barely reacts to the boy. 

"You'll need to switch your clothes if we're going outside." He remarked, and Miles looked down. He was wearing a blue gown, one that felt uncomfortable against his skin. He didn't know what the outside looked like, nor why he needed to change. He looked away from Quaritch. "Oh? You wanna stay in the dress?" Hesitantly, Miles nodded. It was the only thing left of the room he can now barely recall. It was comfort. (Wrongwrongwrong, these are not his clothes, where are his clothes.)

________

Time had passed again. He did not know where he was. There is a mask over his face, and he's holding a tall creatures hand. His hand is large and blue and engulfs him, but it feels safe and warm. There are large things around them. Some glowed when he touched them. Some were very sticky and smells odd. This room is strange. There are no walls nor ceilings, and the light stings his eyes and leaves odd shapes in his vision.

The creature watches and pulls him back. He wants to see this wall-less room more. It feels free and new. If everything before made him uneasy, then this room made him feel easy. They (whowhowho) said he couldn't breathe the air here, but he felt elated. He wanted to run and jump and climb everything he could!

Clumsily, he grabbed onto the little bits poking out on the….thing…., and pulled himself up. This felt easy, but not new. His body moved like it had a mind of its own, arms and legs pushing himself higher, higher, higher. The higher he got, the better he felt. This is not new! He knows this!

Though his breath ran ragged and his limbs ached, he breathed easily. He laughed; a happy, ugly sound that bounced in the room.

And then he fell. 

This was not new, but it was sudden. It frightened him. He barely registered the air whizzing past his ears, could only hear blood rushing to his head as the room tilted and rushed past him. He's going to hit the ground! It will hurt! He laughs again, grinning. 

He does not meet the ground. Instead, he lands in the arms of the blue creature. His blue face contorted, eyebrows pulling down frowning. Slowly, he matched the boy's expression, teeth baring themselves in sharp corners. "Having fun, kid?" He asked. The boy nodded vigorously, wrapping his arms around the others blue shoulders, his face against sharp collarbones. 

His chest starts to shake with laughter. And though he can't see, the creature looked at him fondly, his hold turning possessive. "Yeah? Falling's fun?" The boy's laughter quieted down. He pulls his head away from the shoulder to look up at the creature. His blue face is still smiling, but there's a snarl hidden in his expression. Aggression. 

"Don't. Don't go falling off of trees, alright?" He hissed, and the boy nodded. He felt shame. Like a child who'd just been caught doing something bad. 

The creature did not put him down. He spent the rest of the day in his tightening hold, catching glimpses of the room around him. He mourned the loss of feeling the ground beneath his feet, but it felt safe in the creature's arms. His body is warm, and the beating in his chest is grounding. The boy does not know how much time passes, but he knows the ceiling is darkening. The room comes alive, softly glowing. 

"It's gettin' dark, huh." The creature remarks. "Should head back." Violently, the boy shook his head. "Oh, wanna stay out here? In the cold, with the man eating animals?" He pushed, but the child frowned. This place is good. Kind. Not dangerous. He wants to stay here forever. He'll forget, if he leaves. But then again, he'll forget even if he stays.

_______

They're walking back when it happens. Something rustles in the bushes, and the creature stops. He gestures his head towards the noise and another blue creature (since when were there others?) approaches, a large weapon drawn. The one holding him looks around, then his ears twitch and his eyes widen. He shouts something, but the boy doesn't understand. 

Other blue creatures emerge from the trees (he'd told him that that's what they were called. Trees.), their weapons drawn. They are speaking, and the boy feels that he should know what they're saying. Instead, their voices just sound like noise. Strange noise, with sharp sounds. Swiftly, they shoot their weapon, and something long and sharp imbeds itself into the tree next to the other creature. It grazes him, leaving a small trail of red rushing down his cheek.

The reaction is practically instantaneous. The arms that wrapped around him grew unbearably tight; practically suffocating him. He is shouting something, loudly, and it makes the boy's ears ring. Suddenly, they are moving faster, away, away, away. The ground is a blur beneath him, and he's holding onto the creature for dear life. The other creatures, the fully clothed ones, were moving with them, turning back to shoot their weapons at the newcomers. The sound rings loud and clear in his ears, making him wince and turn, burying his face into his shoulder. 

They run for what seems like seconds. There is shouting, noise, loudloudloud. He hates it. His ears are ringing. If this keeps up, he'll get sick. He is abruptly thrown to the floor when something hits the one who held him. He scarmbles, the short fall leaving him disoriented. He digs his hand into the ground and tries to push himself up, but he feels a heavy weight on his back, pushing him down. There is something sharp at his neck, but the weight doesn't allow him to turn and look. He still struggles, though it is futile.

The noise–, the voice is sharp, sharper than the blade at his neck. They sound angry. Scary. He whimpers. 

With a rough push, he is flipped onto his back, and a strange sight greets him. The one threatening him is also large and blue, but wears very little clothing. He is holding something long and sharp, a spear, and pointing it right at his neck. He is saying something, but the boy can't understand. The creature repeats himself, but when it becomes clear that he can't understand, he huffs. Raising his hands, he brought his weapon down on his neck.

The boy was scared, but like almost all his feelings, the sensation was like wrapping himself in a ratty, old blanket. He knew it provided warmth in the past, provided comfort and familiarity. But now it was worn out and torn, a reminder of what it used to be. What it used to give. His fear was all consuming, but it felt like he'd already been consumed by it, a long time ago. 

(If it were 2 years ago, when his mind was still his, he'd cry with relief and fear. He'd been found, but not saved.)

The spear never meets his neck. Instead, he watches as the creature is tackled by another. He makes quick work of the one who tried to kill him, thin lines of blood splattering across the mask that lets him breathe. The sounds the two were making made his head spin. All sharp and aggressive, teeth bared, gurgling on his own blood. After their short struggle, the victorious one aproaches him. He kneels down, reaching his hand towards him, and the boy cowers and whimpers, trying to push himself away. The creature frowns.

"Miles?" He says, and the boy is confused. Who is–, "You. You're Miles. I'm Quaritch, I'm your dad." He says solemnly. His dad picks him up easily, but Miles is tense. He cannot keep his distance in the others arms. Quaritch holds him close to his face, gently checking him over for injuries. He can feel his knees sting, and now that he thinks about it, his hands are shaking. He is clammy and sweaty and wants to leave. He wants to be safe. This room is not safe, it is dangerous, it is scary. 

(Please, Eywa, let him stay here. Let him die here. Let him rot here. But please, do not send him back there.) 

He clings to Quaritch hashly, nails digging into his skin, when another approaches. This one is dressed like his dad, but different. Quaritch seemed to notice his weary grip, because he turned around sharply, before relaxing. "That's just Wainfleet, kid. He's safe."

Safe. He's safe. He won't hurt him? Is Quaritch safe?

He looks at the body of the creature who attacked him, now laying lifelessly on the ground. A large slash laid across his throat, blood running from the injury like a river. His chest felt tight, and he felt like he knew that man. Had seen him before. He can't remember. Can't remember. Can't remember. Won't remember.

What?

______

He wakes up inside a room. He is sitting on a chair, metal digging into him uncomfortably. There are restraints, binding him tightly. There is panic running through him. He knows why he is here. He can't remember, but he knows.

His chest had wrapped itself into tight coils, so he was struggling to breathe. He is still shaking, he noted. He is clammy, sweaty, and breathing heavily. 

He knows this. He knows this.

He is afraid.

_______

A young boy wakes up in a room. He tastes blood and his skin is burning. The room is cold and hard, but he is resting against something warm. The boy feels his throat is too dry and torn to even try to speak, so he settles for a pathetic, questioning moan.

"You back with me, son?"

He tries to turn, but he cannot. The slightest movement hurts him. It feels like his nerves are on fire.

His hands, rubbed raw and bloody, are gently clasped in another's hold. They look tiny in the others blue hands.

"Yeah, that was…uh…a long session, huh? Thought you'd be used to it by now, but ya scream just as loud every time."

The son can tell it's meant to be a joke; a casual remark, but he can also hear the grimace in the man's voice. The gritted teeth. His tightening hold. He is upset. Why?

His wounds sting. The son sucks in a sharp breath through clenched teeth. It hurts. His hands, they hurt. The large man behind him seems to take notice, as his hold loosens, barely. He breathes, uneven, but more easily. It hurts less. Insignificantly less, but less is something.

The boy notices a hand through his hair. It is warm and gentle, and massages softly into his scalp. 

He doesn't know his own name, nor the person behind him. He does not panic, though.

The end

For now?

I actually don't know if i want this to have multiple parts or not all i know is that there is a tortured boy w daddy issues and i love him i want to tuck him into bed mwah mwah

[crypticcatalys]

I should have known that something bad was going to happen when Neteyam reminded me of Tsu'tey.

[breescorned]

I don’t ever want to hear about Jake being the savior of Avatar 2. Tuh! Not when Neytiri took out an entire ship almost by herself, not when she ain’t miss not one damn shot the entire movie. In this movie and the first she was the main one shooting bitches outta the sky!!!! It’s not like she had unlimited arrows either so, that meant she shot you in yo mf chest and took that shit right back out to kill your friend wit!!!! If I was Spider I would’ve jumped ship cuz she wasn’t gonna catch me 😰

Honorable mention to ma girl Kiri… she had me scared for a sec but she got in the field too

[realisticmermaid]

[iceywolf24]

THEON TWOW SAMPLE CHAPTER SPOILERS.

I can't be sure but I think it is kind of being set up that Bran will be involved with the battle in the ice.

First his presence is felt in the chapter even outside of the ravens

She has to understand. She is my sister. He never wanted to do any harm to Bran or Rickon. Reek made him kill those boys, not him Reek but the other one. "I am no kinslayer," he insisted. He told her how he bedded down with Ramsay’s bitches, warned her that Winterfell was full of ghosts. "The swords were gone. Four, I think, or five. I don’t recall. The stone kings are angry." He was shaking by then, trembling like an autumn leaf. "The heart tree knew my name. The old gods. Theon, I heard them whisper. There was no wind but the leaves were moving. Theon, they said. My name is Theon." It was good to say the name. The more he said it, the less like he was to forget.

How Theon didn't kill Bran and Rickon, how Bran communicated with Theon using the heart tree.

While the talk about the Stone Kings being angry comes from Theon not knowing that Bran and the others took the swords, it might be teasing Bran's anger at what's been done to Winterfell, it's people especially Theon and Jeyne.

The maester mopped sweat from his brow with his sleeve. "N-not entirely, Your Grace. Most, yes. Some few can be taught to fly between two castles. Such birds are greatly prized. And once in a very great while, we find a raven who can learn the names of three or four or five castles, and fly to each upon command. Birds as clever as that come along only once in a hundred years.

Stannis gestured at the black birds in the cages. "These two are not so clever, I presume."

Wouldn't be so sure of that Stannis, also nice comparison with how there are rare special ravens and how special greenseers are.

King Stannis ignored the jibe. "Boys" was all he said, disgusted. "Boys will not hold Lord Bolton long." "Not long," Theon agreed. "Not long at all." "Not long," cried the raven from its cage.

"The ground?" said Theon. "What ground? Here? This misbegotten tower? This wretched little village? You have no high ground here, no walls to hide beyond, no natural defenses." “Yet.” "Yet," both ravens screamed in unison. Then one quorked, and the other muttered, "Tree, tree, tree."

Interesting how the ravens interrupt when Stannis say boys can't do much and how they have no natural defenses yet. I wonder who's been described as a green boy and has power over nature

"Answer me. If we were to loose these birds, would they return to the Dreadfort?" The king leaned forward. "Or might they fly for Winterfell instead?"

And suddenly there came a wild thumping, as the maester’s ravens hopped and flapped inside their cages, their black feathers flying as they beat against the bars with loud and raucous caws. "The tree," one squawked, "the tree, the tree," whilst the second screamed only, "Theon, Theon, Theon."

Bran is likely trying to communicate with the weirwood. It isn't easy to speak through weirwoods, but Bran can actually say his own words even if it's slow and limited and not just repeat like he has to do with ravens.

He might communicate to Stannis that he wants to use ravens to show paths to catch the Boltons by surprise. Stannis bringing up the ravens knowing the way to castles might be hinting at this.

"Men like to know their god is with them when they go to battle." "Not all your men worship the same god."

"You northmen brought these snows upon us," insisted Corliss Penny. "You and your demon trees."

Plus it's been set up that the old gods belief is strong with the mountain clansmen, if they see Bran helping them with the power of the old gods, it will surely boost their morale while discouraging the Bolton army seeing the old gods working against them.

They might get paranoid that they're being punished by the gods for breaking guest right at the red wedding.

Plus the r'hllor followers seeing the old gods help might shake up their beliefs as well.

Battles had been fought at Winterfell before, but never one without a Stark on one side or the other - Jon VII ADWD

Also this.