#brightroar

[westeroswisdom]

A missing Tywin sibling.

WinterIsComing.net has an article called Top 10 Valyrian steel swords from the Game of Thrones books.

Something that particularly caught my attention was the section on the Lannister Valyrian sword Brightroar.

The ancestral sword of House Lannister was the Valyrian steel blade called Brightroar. According to the World of Ice and Fire, the Kings of the Rock purchased Brightroar from the Valyrians a century before the Doom. It is said they paid enough gold to raise an army.

Not much is known about Brightroar except it was wielded by two prominent Lannister patriarchs. The first was Lancel IV Lannister, who used the sword to behead an ironborn king called Harrald Halfdrowned. The next was Tommen II Lannister, who wielded the blade when he sailed a massive fleet to plunder the ruins of Valyria.

Indeed, there was a previous Lancel and a previous Tommen.

Tommen, the fleet and Brightroar were all lost in this voyage, and generations of Lannisters attempting to recover the blade in vain. The most recent attempt was made by Tywin Lannister’s younger brother Gerion, who left Westeros in 291 to find the sword. By the time of the main books, Gerion had not returned yet and is presumed to be dead.

I was unaware that Tywin and Kevan had another brother. If there is ever a spinoff featuring Arya’s voyage around the world (PLEASE, I BEG!), having her encounter the long lost Gerion Lannister would be a great occurrence. If still alive, he’d be in his late 40s at the end of Season 8 of GoT.

Here is how UK artist Daniel Burgess at Art Station visualized Brightroar.

^^^ That’s actually just one view of Brightroar. The remaining ones are here – including a closeup of the pommel.

[marianne-zemo]

Ignore me, I’m just obsessed 🫡

not a request, I’m just fixating on Tywin Lannister <3 the timeline of this rather ignores canon, but as it is, Tywin is about 15 years older than !reader, Jaime and Cersei are about 8 years younger than !reader. Joanna died giving birth to the twins, so no Tyrion (sorry!), and there’s no Robert’s Rebellion, so no War of the Five Kings either. There’s allusion to a battle in the Capitol when Jaime and Cersei are toddlers, and i pretended this was to overthrow aerys in my head, though I gave zero details about it. Anyway, enjoy!

Edit: it’s nearly 6k words whoops

A Fool’s Errand

Tywin Lannister x fem!Reader

Loving Tywin Lannister was a fool’s errand, or so everyone said. But you, the sweet young daughter of the Warrior Lord Dumain, had never shied from a challenge yet. Not in our blood, your father would say. Warriors fight for what is right, and for what they want, my girl. And you wanted the Old Lion himself.

It had begun quite accidentally, and not even because of Lord Lannister, but his wife. She had hosted a tourney you’d gone to as a girl, and you thought her the most beautiful woman you’d ever seen (the portrait of your long dead mother non-withstanding). She had glided around the Rock, where the tourney was held, and her golden hair and dress had caught the eye of everyone, naturally.

The first day you’d followed her around, a girl of no more than eight having an easy time staying hidden in order to sate your curiosity. On the third day, Lady Joanna had spoken.

“Come out from there, my little shadow,” she hummed from her bench in the gardens. Shyly, you stepped out from behind an enormous pot and looked at your feet. Your father told you not to get in the way of anyone and to listen to your septa (who you’d managed to slip away from every day since your arrival). Your worry must’ve been evident, for she reached out a graceful hand and beckoned you closer. She must’ve tired easily from her round belly, which was too large to hold just one babe, you’d overheard your septa mention.

“You must be Lord Renhaal’s little girl,” her sweet voice said, pulling you from your childish musing.

“Yes, my lady,” you replied softly. She smiled, and you understood how people loved her instantly. You felt you’d do anything to keep her smiling at you.

“And what wonderful manners, forgetting all the spying, of course.” Though her words were chastisement, her face belied no displeasure.

“I wasn’t spying, my lady,” you defended, desperate to clear up the misunderstanding. “Father said, before we came here, that Lord Lannister was a serious man, and not to get in his way out of everyone here. And you’re so nice! I was only curious about what sort of lady would make a serious man happy… my lady.”

Drawing you closer so you were sat next to her on the bench, Lady Joanna began to impart knowledge you would never forget.

“My mother used to tell me that even the most stoic of men need a lady to love them. Because, little shadow, good women make good men better, and that makes a good man’s wife the best sort of woman. And I have always wanted to be the best I can.”

You nodded, understanding that love was important to men and women both, if what Lady Joanna was saying was true. Loving a man like Tywin Lannister was made to seem easy with this knowledge. And perhaps, that is where you’d gotten the lesson wrong.

“You will love a serious man one day, little lady.” The knowing glimmer in green eyes was lost on you.

“My little warrior,” your father started. Stood at the docks, twenty and one summers old, an accomplished archer and peerless sailor, you will always be your father’s little girl. “Do not be rash out there. I know you are excited and adventure is in our bones, but you surely cannot fault a father for worrying over his daughter.”

Smiling and stepping closer to him, his large body older but no less impressive, you reassure him that you were raised by the most battle-experienced man in the realm, and the most successful to boot. You would be fine, you told him, and he trusted your words enough to let you board your ship, one he’d had made just for you for your nameday two years earlier.

The Shadow Maiden was a fine ship made of Essosi ashwood, a dark, grey-stained wood with sails green as your family’s house colours, and a hooded maiden figurehead dark as the rest of the ship with golden accents in the dagger and map held in her hands. It was small, which meant fast, but solid from the heavier wood that comprised the ship. For where you were going, you’d be thankful for these qualities.

“There is no need to worry, father. I do not mean to break our streak of victories, and so I will not. I will return with what I seek, I assure you.”

“And you still won’t tell me what it is you endeavour to find?” You shake your head, eyes turning down lest he read your thoughts. “It hasn’t got anything to do with Lord Lannister, does it? I cannot force him to accept a marriage contract, even for all the treasure in the world, and neither can you, my dear.”

It was a sore topic of conversation, the two rejected marriage proposals that had been sent at your behest to Lord Lannister, one by raven and one by you in person. His wife had been gone for nearly a decade and a half, and somehow, in your limited interactions with the Old Lion, the late Lady Joanna’s words made more and more sense. You could see plain as day his desire to have his wife back, and though you ached to be able to give him this, the next best thing was you, yourself. A woman who understood and was understood by his late wife.

Shaking your thoughts away, you accept your father’s kiss upon your cheek and his tight embrace before embarking your ship, beginning the month long trip to Essos.

“My Lady,” you heard behind you. Turning to see Lord Kevan Lannister, you dipped into a perfect curtsy, and greeted him demurely. At twenty summers old, you were considered the fairest and most eligible of Westerosi nobility. Everyone could see this but Lord Lannister, whom you had come to convince a betrothal to. Lord Kevan was a gentleman, and a doting father and husband to his young son and pregnant wife.

“My Lord. What may I do for you?”

He frowned, the furrowing of brows a far cry from his usually pleasant expression.

“My Lady, I fear you will not be received well in your request. I only wish to impart some insight into my Lord brother, whom I know well, of course. He is not a kindly man, and nothing and no one could sway him once he’s made a decision. I only say this to warn you, but knowing your father, you are likely as determined as he in all things.”

Heart dropping but smile staying firm, you considered his words carefully before speaking.

“I am determined, yes, but mostly, your brother is the only man, save my father, who will do what needs to be done to carry on a legacy. Your brother has only one son, and I hear he is rather keen on the Knight’s Guild… And I confess, I do not wish him to be—“ lonely, was the word you would have used about anyone else, but to imply that would certainly offend, and that was the last thing you wanted to do. “—well, someone told me that even the most stoic of men need a lady, and I’m rather set on him. If he rejects me, I will graciously excuse myself and not bother him again. But I must try, or I’ll never forgive myself.”

Your skirts whispered as you slowly paced in the parlour you’d settled in. The gold was a bit much, you thought privately, but the large window overlooking the Sunset Sea was worth the ostentatiousness.

Lord Kevan looked at you for a long moment, as though he’d heard the words before himself, before nodding and offering his arm to escort you to Lord Lannister’s solar.

It had gone worse than you’d imagined, and you’d imagined the worst case scenario. The truth was, Tywin Lannister was not just serious. He was borderline cruel, sly as a fox and intimidating as his house’s sigil. He’d all but snarled at you when you finished your proposal.

“You wasted my time for that? I have already rejected your offer—twice now. I have better things to be doing,” he said, standing above you where you sat opposite him. “There is nothing marriageable to me about a slip of a woman who fancies herself a lady and an adventurer, a mere girl inexperienced in life and cavorting as though she is touched by the Maiden herself. Hear me now, girl,” he growled, green eyes spitting like wildfire, “even if you marched in here with Brightroar in your arms, I would not marry you.”

And of course, the sweet image of him even reluctantly agreeing and you supporting his lordship over his subjects for the rest of your days faded away like a dying sun. Face placid, hands steady and voice clear, you simply said, “that sounds like a challenge.” He didn’t have time to berate you for your insolence, for you were already out the door and making your way to your wheelhouse, insisting on leaving that instant.

The people of the Rock would no doubt think you a cowardess who tucked tail and ran in the face of the Lion’s roar. But they did not know you, did not know the sparkle in your eye was not tears, but determination.

Docking in Essos was made simpler by the permits your father had arranged for you, even if the dock master insisted you pay extra. Your men, men you’d known since they were capable of getting seasick still, had made promises to ensure your safety, but even twelve broad sailors were not enough to sway a man’s greed. It mattered little in the end, you would restock water and food as much as possible before circumnavigating the coast of Essos. Another sennight of sailing the coast, then a moon navigating open waters and finally, you’d made it to the ruins of Valyria.

The once great castle by the cliffside had mostly fallen into the sea, and the jagged protrusions of stone were less than ideal for a galleon, but your little ship was nimbler and sleeker than any hulking vessels that thought to shortcut through these waters.

“My Lady, we’re nearing the Ruins. Shall we anchor and rest through the night?” You agreed that was best, and though the anticipation thrummed through you all night, you were rested enough by dawn to begin what you’d spent over two months sailing for.

For two days you’d steered your ship through previously untraversable waters, before coming across what seemed yet another shipwreck. At first, it looked like every other one you’d passed: broken, rotted and empty. You’d nearly sailed right by it when you caught sight of a lioness figurehead.

In the history book that had found its way across Westeros to you (anonymously, though you suspected Lord Kevan would be the only one to have possession of such a tome) it said King Tommen of the Rock, First of His Name, had sailed the Vibrant Lionness named for his wife who had hair red as the setting sun. And here it was, you thought, anchoring and row-boating to the half-submerged wreckage. By the light of the midday sun, and your own willingness to get dirty (thank goodness you were among good men who wouldn’t think twice of you wearing breeches for the duration of the journey) you had begun searching for your boon.

And in what would’ve been the captain’s quarters, next to a curled up skeleton in rags, was a scabbard holding a sword. You held your breath, stepping cautiously to avoid the most rotten planks of wood on the uneven floor, before grabbing the sheath, and revealing Brightroar. The smile you wore as you rowed back to the Shadow Maiden was nothing short of radiant. Welcomed with a great cheer, you promised your men that weather and gods willing, you’d be home in six short weeks.

It was closer to being seven weeks, but finally being docked at the port by your father’s Keep, you were able to breathe. You’d done it. You’d retrieved what all of Westeros knew Tywin Lannister desired most. And though your heart panged, the desire to be his wife hardly diminishing even after being eviscerated by him, your pride won out. If anything, Lord Lannister would owe you a debt, even if you’d never collect on it.

“My girl!” your father roared as you disembarked the ship, arms wrapping around you and swinging you in a wide arc. It was nearing your nameday again, and he worried you wouldn’t be home in time to celebrate. “And dare I ask if you found what you were looking for?”

You smiled beatifically, and it was answer enough for you lord father. He insisted you stay for your nameday, which was a week after your return, and would go for a week at least. Being his only daughter, and one of only two surviving children of his, there would never be a year he didn’t revel in having you with him still.

During this fortnight, you’d learned that Jaime Lannister had in fact been selected by the Knight’s Guild as the youngest member in history, and would therefore not inherit his family’s seat. Jaime had been a sweet boy, and you’d doted on him on the many occasions you’d seen him in his childhood. Cersei, while a little cold at first, had followed her brother’s adoration of you after a time. You were happy to know Jaime was doing what he loved most, even if you felt a twinge of guilt at how it proved you right to the Old Lion after all.

Having made the arrangements with Lord Kevan (Lord Lannister would not even respond to any ravens from you, he’d mentioned in a letter once) to visit the Rock under the guise of the twins’ name day celebration, you set off once again to the far Westerlands.

Your skin had gotten some shades darker from the expedition to Valyria, and your hair had lightened at the ends slightly. You’d grown more lean, but stronger, your muscles toned as opposed to bulky, like your older brother’s. In short, you were more formidable in appearance than the last time you’d been to the Rock. Your dress, the same deep green as your family’s colour, flattered your waist and hips, the neckline revealing only the top of your collarbones and a small sliver of your shoulder with long, wide sleeves that fluttered around you as you walked up the steps and into the maw of the lion.

Most of Westeros had heard of your expedition and many at the Rock who’d travelled far and wide were certain you’d present Jaime and Cersei with a priceless gift. It was priceless, you thought, but not quite for the twins. For Jaime, you’d actually gotten a fine stallion, one bred by your father and brother personally some years ago, and for Cersei, a necklace of diamonds cut to appear as shards of sparking glass inlaid in Valyrian steel. You knew Cersei was jealous over the Valyrian steel dagger her brother had gotten some namedays ago, and thought this may be enough to settle that dissatisfaction she still carried.

Three days of celebration gave way to the dawn of the twins’ actual nameday, which would be the day you presented Jaime and Cersei their gifts, and a final gift for the House of Lannister as a whole.

A fine spread was laid out for everyone to break their fast, and per tradition (which began when the twins were much younger and far too impatient to wait until dinner to open gifts) presents were prepared to be opened during the feast. The gardens where the meal was held were expansive and bittersweet to sit in. They reminded you of the Golden Lady, who despite being noble of birth, had tended her own garden herself. Lord Lannister now paid a slew of gardeners to preserve it exactly as it had been left by its keeper.

“We saved yours for last,” Jaime whispered beside you with a mischievous grin. You had not sat far from the Lannister family, mostly due to the Lord’s children’s fondness of you, to his chagrin. He hadn’t looked at you once, pointedly ignoring your entire side of the table, even with the guests he didn’t despise surrounding you on either side.

“Yours are always the best ones,” Cersei added with a secret grin. You laughed at that, and called your men to escort the war horse for Jaime into the gardens. A hush fell over the table as the great Arabian horse, golden of coat, trotted to you at your whistle. He was enormous, as horses bred by your family were known to be, but this horse looked large next to large horses.

“Every great knight needs a steed attuned to him, one that will fight as much for him as with him. He will never listen to another, never let himself be mounted by another. Only you, my lord,” you explain to Jaime as he marvels at the hulking beast.

“I’m honoured, my lady, to receive such a prestigious gift… I shall never fear battle with a mount like this.”

“And with your lion’s heart,” you added fondly, watching as Jaime, as near to manhood a boy can be, gently stroked the horse’s nose before letting it be led to the stables. You felt a heavy gaze on you then, but refused to look at the exact pair of green eyes that had settled on you. “And for the young lionness,” you announce, revealing the fine necklace, “jewellery and dresses are a lady’s armour, and there is no finer necklace than this in all the lands. Made of Valyrian steel, with shards of diamond, it will cut through anything should you use it right. It may save your life one day, my lady, though I shall pray that you never find need of it for that.”

Cersei’s eyes widened slightly, and she hesitated for nary a second before lifting her elaborate braid from her neck and turning for you to fasten it. With her dress of pale gold (so like the image of her mother now that she’d grown) the necklace looked like it was made with the dress in mind.

“Your gifts, as usual, delight my children,” a low voice intoned from the head of the table, the gardens, still silent enough for it, seemed to echo his voice. And once again, you are reminded of what a powerful man he is. Though you are not the lady he desires help from, you delight in his attention nonetheless.

“I have one more gift, if it pleases you, my Lord? I travelled very far to acquire this treasure, and there is no one in Westeros but you who could accept it.” A murmur slithered through the guests, and many eyes were now glued to you in interest, surely anticipating the revelation for the reason of your expedition on the sea they’d all heard about.

“You are most generous,” he said tonelessly, pure disinterest coating each syllable. You nodded gracefully, and with the lessons in ladyhood that had been drilled into you, you curtsied and glided to Ser Romnack, who held a slender, rectangular box engraved with lions with rubies for eyes and golden fangs. Walking back to where Lord Lannister sat upon a dais at a grand table perpendicular to the others, you presented him with the fine box, not looking at him but at the table.

He took it, and with little fanfare, flicked the latch of the box and swung the lid open. His brow furrowed, you noticed from your periphery, but it melted away as fast as it manifested. Instead, Lord Tywin Lannister wore a look of true surprise, his lips parted and eyes fixed on the contents of the box. He stands, looking deeply at you, though you do not look at him. From the box, he revealed Brightroar, the ancestral sword lost to the Lannisters for nearly three centuries. And now it was home, thanks to you.

The crowd’s reaction was far more animated, and almost at once people were clapping and cheering for you, to your embarrassment. You demurely wave away the cheers, accept the grateful embrace from Cersei and the gentlemanly way Jaime held your hand for a few long moments, then returned to your seat to finish the rest of the feast. Shortly after, festivities began again, and it was easy to slip away from the crowd, even if everyone seemed to be seeking you out.

You’d been to the Rock many times before, so finding your way to the parlour you favoured in your visits was possibly as easy with your eyes closed. The parlour with the wide window that overlooked the sea, that was rarely frequented, or so Lord Kevan had mentioned. You settled into a plush settee and began to mentally plan out your return home.

You had promised your father that once you returned from the Rock, you’d marry a lord or heir of his choosing, since he had given you two attempts of your own and you’d used them both on the Lord of the Keep you were in. Perhaps you could admit to a preference for blonds, though your father hardly seemed the type to care about a superficial detail like that.

“I have not known you to shy away from a celebration, especially if my children are involved.”

You hummed, not moving to stand or curtsy, fatigued and uncaring of the consequences therein. “Ah, but you do not know me, my Lord.”

“No,” he agreed, stood by the other side of the settee. “I know little about you, especially if I am to believe you retrieved Brightroar yourself.”

“I had twelve men with me. Men who I trust and who trust me with their lives. It rather makes impossible expeditions that much easier. Trusting them, that is.”

He was silent for a moment, then he spoke once more.

“I told you I would not marry you, even if you had Brightroar in your arms.”

Turning to glare at him, you stood. “I did not travel for four months across seas to find a way to marry you, Lord Lannister,” you said firmly. “Jaime will be the finest knight Westeros has seen in centuries, and he deserves to fight with his family’s sword, as my brother does, as my father and all his fathers before him did.”

He glared fiercely at you, wildfire eyes attempting to burn you with their scorching anger. You returned the glare with an ice cold one of your own, one you’d steadily become known for.

“I suppose you expect this Lannister to pay you the debt you are owed,” he said as though bored. Your glare broke, expression turning neutral.

“I want nothing from you that you are unwilling to give, Lord Lannister. And I’m a woman with enough dignity to bestow my companionship with a man who might appreciate it someday. So, no. I do not expect any repayment. Good day, my Lord.”

The door had barely opened before a large hand flew passed your shoulder to slam it shut.

“Do not walk away from me, girl.”

“I am no girl. I have sailed across the Sunset Sea, traversed the Ruins of Valyria and lived to tell the tale. And beside that, I have honoured the name Lannister by bringing back your greatest desire. I am no more a girl than you are a coward.”

And with that, you’d wrenched the door open and walked speedily to your apartments where your handmaidens awaited you. You told them to arrange for an early departure, and they began packing immediately, sensing your irritation.

It was early evening, and nearing the time of your departure when Jaime and Cersei made to visit. Cersei was, in private, far more emotional than she ever let on in public, and her anger and sadness at you leaving was plain to you. You’d seen her as a little sister when you were younger, but now you wondered if she’d viewed as more of an aunt, or a godsmother. Either way, your long embrace and promises to write were just enough to pacify her. Jaime was more stoic, you’d noticed, trying to be strong for his sister but also leaning into his impression of how a good man acts. It had made you smile, and a little teary, to see them so grown. You’d known them since they were babes, of course, and had even visited frequently for long intervals when they were barely walking while your father fought and won battles in the Capitol with Lord Lannister.

“Don’t fret, my little lions,” you said, holding Cersei again and cupping Jaime’s cheek in your spare palm. “There is nowhere in the world I would not travel to see you both. Even if my future husband forbids me.”

“Husband!?” Cersei shrieked, and strange panic in her eyes as she shared a look with Jaime.

“But I thought you were going to speak to father about a betrothal?” she asked.

“I have made two proposals to your Lord Father, and both were rejected, my darling.”

“But you brought Brightroar home,” Cersei argued. “He’ll marry you now if you ask him! He owes you a debt, and Lannisters—“

“—always pay their debts, I know, Cersei,” you sigh tiredly. “I do not want any man to marry me because he feels indebted to me.”

“But you’ve been dedicated to father forever!”

None of you noticed another visitor silently enter, too closely embraced and focussed on each other to pay attention.

“I will find another man to dedicate myself to, and I will bear him sons as is my duty. I could no sooner force your father’s hand than I could bring harm to either of you. That is what love makes of us at times…” you trailed off.

“What’s that, my Lady?” Jaime asked.

“Fools, darling. And I have been a fool twice already for him. I will not disgrace myself or my family by asking a third time.”

“No,” the Old Lion said from behind you all, causing the three of you to turn and face him. “You will not. Children, leave us.”

Cersei’s grip around your waist tightened in impertinence. “Are you going to upset her? She was upset when we got here,” she says boldly to her father. He glared at his daughter, and a battle of wills that had no clear winner began and ended in a few seconds.

“Off you go, little lions. I will be fine,” you said, shooing them gently, even if Cersei looked unconvinced. With a final glare to her father and a tug from her twin, the young lions were gone, the door closed, you and Lord Lannister alone once again.

“What did they speak of,” he asked bluntly.

“Which part, my Lord,” you ask as you gathered a ring from your bedside that you’d taken off that morning and forgotten to put back on. An emerald ring, once belonging to your mother, that rarely left your hand.

“You are not scheduled to depart for another three days hence.”

“A change in circumstances, I’m afraid,” you answer.

“And what changes are those,” he gritted through clenched teeth.

“It is past time I marry, my Lord. My Lord Father has allowed me my adventures, but I grow wearier every day of the spinster I am sure people think me to become.”

“The opinions of sheep matter not to lions,” he said, as though that explained everything.

“I am not a lion, my Lord.”

“Not yet,” he agreed.

You turned then, and looked at him. He had Brightroar fastened to his hip, and in the finery he wore for the celebrations, he made a striking image. Shoulders broad and chest puffed with the confidence of a Lord reunited with his family’s blade, you’d thought he never looked more handsome, though you knew better than to let the opinion show.

“I won’t marry one of your brothers, or a son of a vassal house. I am a lady of highest birth, and will find myself a husband fitting my status, my Lord,” you explained evenly, looking away to gather your shawl, the last of your personal effects in the room. You made to the door at that, and once again, Lord Lannister prevented you from leaving.

“That is twice you have walked away from me. The debt is repaid,” he purred beside your left ear. Goosebumps raised at his vicinity, and many questions at his comment. “Twice I have rejected you, and twice you have walked away from me. I have killed men for less. That debt is repaid.”

Thinking the interaction some sort of taunt, which he was not above in the slightest, you disregarded him and attempted to open the door with force. This time, however, he did lot let you walk out. He simply slammed the door again.

“Thrice, my Lady,” he said lowly. “And now you owe me a debt.”

A warrior’s daughter you may be, but even your heart could not protect itself from the cracks beginning to show. How foolish could you have been? It was a fool’s errand to love a man like Tywin Lannister, and gods, had you been a fool. You should never have followed the Lady Joanna around her own home. You’d known better even then, and you should not have sat with her, or listened to her, or decided to be a great lady like her. Why couldn’t you have just sat quietly at that tourney with your septa as you’d been told to? And you had risked your life and the lives of men you’d known all your life to give this man the only treasure he could not buy. All you’ve done, and only to owe him, as he said.

“Remove your hand, my Lord. I am leaving.”

“No. You owe me a debt and I intend to collect.”

“Then I suggest, my Lord,” you said cuttingly, “you allow me to return to my father so he can settle this perceived debt. Send him a raven with the sum of gold you don’t truly need, and let us be done here.”

He did not budge, and you felt the horrifying sting of frustrated tears burn your eyes.

“I’m afraid there is only one thing that could settle this debt. Your hand.”

Rage filled you.

“Then have the left,” you muttered angrily, turning and holding out your wrist. “Give your blade the blood of the hand that brought it back to you. That’s poetic, even for you.”

You expected to see that dark resolve you saw in your father’s eyes when he would sentence a man to death. That grim satisfaction and humanitarian dread combined. But his eyes were not angry, no wildfire spitting and flaring in his gaze. In fact, they rather resembled the rolling hills of lush green pastures and forests that surround the Rock. And for once, you noticed, his mouth was not held in a grim line, nor was his face set in stony dissatisfaction as it so often was. He looked softer, face relaxed and… almost open.

“I do not mean it quite so literally,” he said, bringing the hand by his side to gently hold the wrist you’d bared to him. It was the first time he had touched you, you realised.

And then his words untangled in your head and made a little more sense. Only, he could not mean to ask for your hand after rejecting it twice, could he?

“My late wife,” he began solemnly, “would say that a woman’s dedication is rarer than dragon eggs and infinitely more precious as well. She rejected my proposal to her twice, and on the third she agreed, because, she said, any man willing to make a fool of himself for her hand was a man she could be dedicated to.”

“I… I do not understand, my Lord,” you uttered quietly.

“I expected you to ask a third time, my lady. Expected you would return in a matter of weeks and insist on a betrothal. And I would have accepted then. But you did not,” he explained, voice low, meant to soothe rather than intimidate. “I was furious when I heard you’d left Westeros. I thought it was to sail east to find a husband, and had a mind to send a fleet after you. My brother insisted you’d return, and I trusted him. He was right.”

Mind working, you could only dumbly stare at him as he told a tale of how his twins had begged him to propose a betrothal to you when you’d been eight and ten, and how he knew you were not ready to be a wife, the call for adventure itching under your skin needed to be sated first. How he had rejected the first proposal easily, but the second one was much more difficult.

“I expected you to doggedly pursue your goals to be wedded to me as your father might’ve pursued his in battle, but for as similar as you are to him, you are not the same at all. And then I thought you would surely perish on your expedition, especially as the moons passed without word of your return. And now, here you are at my children’s nameday celebrations, the finest mount in the realm for my son, the finest jewels in the realm for my daughter, and my own greatest desire, second to one.”

You blinked, looking at him suspiciously, as though his brothers and guests might pour out of some alcove and laugh at your folly to half believe him.

“And the debt I owe you, my Lord? How is that to be paid.”

“I answered this already, my Lady. Your hand.”

“My hand.” You repeated.

“Since it is unlikely you will propose a betrothal with me a third time, I must insist upon it myself. It is the only way I shall consider the slight of walking away from the Lion of Casterly Rock repaid.”

He looked down at you, watching quietly for a turn in your expression, anything really. You were still as marble, and your hand felt as cold as it too. Then he saw it, that faint glimmer of hope that he’d seen in your gaze on at least two occasions prior. It was there again, barely, and tentatively. But it was there, and it was all he needed.

He swooped down to press a gentle kiss upon your soft mouth, holding himself back from kissing you as he wanted to. It took a short second for your brain to shut off and for your body to move as it wanted. You leaned forward into the kiss, bring your hand to his chest, the other still held in his large hand, thumb gently stroking over the pulse that sped up under the delicate skin.

“You have not answered me, my Lady,” Lord Lannister said, pulling his mouth from yours to trail kisses across your cheek to your ear, nibbling gently on your lobe and halting any clever answer you might’ve been able to give.

“What?” you asked dazedly. Lord Lannister’s lips quirked at your ineloquent reply.

“Will you give me your hand?”

He pulled back to look you in the eyes, and now his lips were not touching you, you could think a little clearer.

“Only if you will give me yours.”

Predatory though it was, the Old Lion grinned at his victory.

[swordmaid]

tbh i still want to continue the jb mummy au i have ideas for it!!! but currently i am in an i want to draw my ocs kick

[venmondiese]

SUBTLE LOVE, DARING WORDS

masterlist ✧works in procress ✧ AO3

-ˋˏsummary: Aemond is in no hurry to take a wife, yet once he realizes that he doesn't value what he has until he might lose it, he takes action. (based on THIS request!)

✧Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Lannister!Reader.

✧word count: 3.1k

✧tags: fluff and comfort, aemond is BAD at feelings, reader doesn't really admit anything either, slight? slowburn?, overall fluffy!!, this is really vague about in which year happens, lol

The first time he met you it was in the library.

He had his mind on the whole commotion at court, the tournament which he had refused to entertain, much to his mother's dislike because of his position as a royal. To him, it seems like a foolery, as if he was willing to participate in making himself a fool such as Mushroom. 

When he came to the library, intending to search for a book to comfort himself, he found a lady leaning down one of the staircases, where there were lots of books stacked only for maesters, with him as an exception… but not a lady surely, less one that seemed to be looking for something below. He was astonished, for many reasons. 

He watched her big, puffy dress, in rich red velvet and gold details. It was definitely a Westerlands style, so he was more confused as to why she was in this part of the library, only for maesters, and… well, him. How did the guards allow her to enter? How did she do it so confidently, as if he couldn’t make her life hell for it?

“Ehem” he scoffs, as if trying to get her away. The least of his worries was having a lady on the forbidden library corner… for now. “Get out. You are in a forbidden part”

“I am aware” your voice comes from down the staircase you had even moved some books! That made him slightly… annoyed.  As you move your head out to see the prince above you, and you make a movement with your head as if doing a courtesy. “My prince”

He was not amused, at all. You had green eyes, and the most golden hair he had seen in ages. The small lions on your dress allowed him to know who you were: A Lannister. And he definitely never wanted to deal with any of your kin. 

“And I said-”

“My cat is down there” you say, as if he cared. 

“Okay. Take it out of here”

“I can’t” you say simply, watching him with a grin. “She seems to be in labour. I didn’t know she was pregnant at all…”

He has many questions, and he frowns at your reasoning. He would take the cat and throw it out himself if he had to. 

“It is your cat, just take it away”

“Well, my father gave her to me two weeks ago!” You make a face, almost whining about it. Of course he could know which Lannister is your father. “I didn’t know she was pregnant, and she is still getting used to me. She will scratch me, more if I get closer to her babies”

“A scratch won’t kill you”

“Just sit” you say softly, watching the cat and sitting on the ground to wait. “You can even keep one of the baby cats”

“My grandsire has brought enough cats already” Aemond says, walking to grab some wine for him and the lady. He wasn't impolite to be rude to a lady, much less one with your status and beauty. “They come to my bed when I am sleeping, and I wake up to cats in my chest”

“Well, I think they are cute” You say, taking the cup of wine, thanking him as you sip the wine. “Cats are felines, like lions. So I think having a cat is reasonable, better than a lion”

“Don’t you want one?”

“I have one back at home” you say shrugging, smiling widely. “He is called Brightroar”  

Of course you named it like the ancient weapon of Lannisters. “And this one?” 

“I wanted to call it Brightroar second, but it turned out to be a she. So she is just called Gemma” 

He can’t deny that he is amused, watching you being so nonchalant about it all, as if you owned the world. He raises an eyebrow as he has a slight smirk, as he sits near. 

“Gemma” he scoffs. “A very…”

“Lannister name” you say smugly. 

“Hm. I was going to say… common, perhaps” he adds.

“You would love for Lannisters to be commoners, my prince. Yet you seem to rely on our gold” you notice, raising one eyebrow. So you weren’t a silly lady, he realises, you had the wits.

“Hmm… Our gold seems a bit excessive, my lady. It is your father who is the head of your house” he reminds you, leaning back on his chair. 

You smile softly. He thinks you are Cerelle, probably. Mostly because you know Cerelle was still a kid and never been presented to the royal court.

“Mine or not, I still am more entitled to it.”

“I have a dragon.” He adds, as if this was a debate between you both. He was actually enjoying it. He had totally the wrong impression of you and he… was enjoying it. “The biggest dragon”

“Yeah, and?” 

“And I could burn your silly little castle” he shrugs, taking a dip of wine. 

“No, you could not” 

“I’m pretty sure I can”

“No, actually. I know you haven’t gone out of these four walls and this... city, my prince, but I remind you out of the kindness of my heart: Casterly Rock is literally… a rock” 

Aemond rolls his good eye, yet his smirk doesn’t leave his face. As if your cat was forgotten, he keeps on his point. 

“As if has stopped a dragon before” Aemond says simply. “Because I am as kind I shall remind you of Harrenhal, perhaps?” 

“And I shall remind you that Harrenhal is a castle made of rocks.” She shrugs softly. “Not exactly a rock. Casterly Rock is literally a castle inside a rock.”

“Some parts are out of it”

“Not the part where we keep our gold, not really”

Aemond squints his eye, and you look back at him. You amused him, looking like a defiant cat that got away with their mischief. It was fun to see, and he could hear the wails of your cat. You didn’t seem worried, neither was he. Perhaps that was the circle of life, and you knew your cat would manage. 

As you speak of such trivial matters, waiting for your cat to end her labours, he couldn’t help but admire your wits, as much as your beauty. Your velvet gown, of a strong red and some gold details did wonders with your appearance, and your brains only made you brighter. 

“What are you doing here?” It was Tyland Lannister, coming with a Maester behind, probably who sneaked your position in a forbidden library. “You know ladies can’t be here” 

“Father... My cat is giving birth” You say, frowning as if it was the most obvious thing. 

“My prince” Tyland makes a courtesy to him, a bit rigid and tense. You had heard how the prince would often terrorise your father, making him do the silliest things as if that amused him. Your uncle Jason often had a laugh about it. 

“I was not aware your daughter was…” Aemond says, turning his gaze to you “All grown up”

He knew about you, but your father talked about you as if you were a babe. You were practically his own age, for what he could tell.

“Yes, my little lion is certainly… grown” Tyland agrees, his hand on your hair as he spoke. “Come on; let’s not bother the prince…”

“It is not a bother” Aemond cuts him, serving himself more wine. “She is rather amusing”

“How dare you-!” You say, offended as you come to your defence.

“Sweetie” Your father tries to calm you, with a tense smile as if telling you to shut up.

“I am not a jester” 

“No one said you were” Aemond says, amused as he smirks. 

“You are such a…”

“Apologise” your father murmurs. 

“But fath-”

“You heard me”

“I am sorry, my prince” You say mockingly, and he smirks, even more amused.

Tyland seemed as if he was about to have a stroke, because he had enough things on his plate, and he didn’t need the prince making his life at the small council harder. 

Aemond sees Gemma, bringing her cats to show you how they were, all of them bloody, and squirmy, a bit pink and small. You petted them as you didn’t mind the blood.

“Come on. Servants will need to clean the blood” Tyland says, making a notion for you to stand up “Grab the kittens and let’s go”

“Ew, no. They are all bloody” You say frowning. “You take them” 

How lady-like. He thinks, as you didn't seem to mind the blood two seconds ago.

Even with your persistence, your father took the small and weak kittens, and your cat kept meowing at him as if he would kill him. 

“How did your cat even come here to give birth?” Your father asks as he tries to not get Gemma to kill him.

“I have no idea, father…” You say, and Aemond sees you standing up. 

He sees the pile of books in your hands, behind your back as you walk behind your father. You smart wench, he thinks, as you had just successfully stolen forbidden books by setting up your cat to give birth here. You even had him fooled. No one else notices, since your dress was puffy enough, and he noticed it by shamelessly trying to see your ass. 

You watch him, and press your index finger in your lips, as you walk behind your father and his complaints about your cat. 

“Do not bother the prince, darling” Tyland says once you get out of the library.

“I think he is quite handsome” you admit, when you know the prince won’t hear you. You father watches you shrug, walking forward him, not allowing him to see your hands. He sighs, as Gemma starts meowing loudly. 

While the rest of your interactions have been brief, he notices that you are more of a troublemaker than you let yourself look. You had that mischievous smirk always, arching your eyebrows in such a way when you had a plan. 

Yet, you were sweet. He notices how you play with your cousins, Cerelle, braiding her hair, and with Loreon, the small heir to Casterly Rock, a kid that enjoyed running around, and you often entertained his antics. 

“And there will be so many ladies, Aemond. In this time, we need alliances…” His mother says, as they walked through the castle. He hears the step of Cole behind them, guarding them, and probably hearing how his mother tried to make him a lovebird.

“It does not interest me”

“It doesn’t have to interest you. It is a matter of duty-”

“I won’t marry, mother.” Aemond shrugs, as if that was the way of his life. “Not yet. I have things ahead of me yet” 

“You inscribed on the tourney?” The queen inquires, curious. 

“No” he says shrugging, slyly trying to seek for you in the royal box, to no avail. “I am not in a hurry.”

He greeted noble ladies, of course. As he was seated on the royal box, bored and waiting, he could see girl after girl doing courtesy and smiling in a flirty way to him. It did not amuse him, and he was polite enough, almost rude. 

“She is trying really hard, you know” A voice joins his thoughts. It is you, sitting by the empty chair by his side, where Aegon is supposed to be, but he never is on time.

“Who isn’t?” He rolls his eye.

“I didn’t know you were so in demand. High valued. Sought after” you list, as you fan yourself as it was indeed a hot day. 

“Very amusing” He murmurs.

“Come on, my prince. There must be a lady who catches your attention.” 

“I am not blind” he says, rolling his good eye. “Of course there are women I find beautiful”

“Oh my... Having feelings now, congratulations, the Seven indeed are capable of the most... unthinkable miracles”

“You just woke up being so funny” he says, looking at you, raising his eyebrow, yet the small way his lips curved allowed you to know he was amused.

“I am always funny, my prince” you say watching the crowd get settled, squinting your eyes due to the sun. “My cats are good, thanks for asking. Gemma is quite the mother, even if she tried to eat one of them.”

"How... vivid." He says, raising his eyebrows in slight disgust.

"I saved them. Since they are four, I named them: Elia, Joy, Alyssa and Teora"

"And what if one of those silly cats was to be a male?" he asks, as if seeing a flaw in your cat-naming thing.

"Pff, none of them will be. I know it. And if they are, I won't change the names"

He remains quiet, surprised by how bold and petulant you could be. It was amusing to him, and he enjoyed talking to you more than he cared to admit.

“You stole from the library.” he reminds you.

“I have no idea what you are about” you say, still looking at the crowd, smiling softly. The red of your dress made your gold hair bright even more. “Ladies do not read such matters”

“Yeah, right. You are unlike any lady”

“Quite the contrary” you finally turn to see him “I am just like any other lady” you says, smiling. "It just happens that I am friends with the prince, so I am allowed to speak freely"

"Who said..." He says, opening his mouth and turning his face to you, a bit impressed by your silliness "How come you think... you suppose that we are friends?"

"Since you have neither sneaked about the time at the library, or told me to shut up and leave you alone, it is a logical conclusion, if we have in mind your previous reputation to anyone else." You say smiling. "And do not worry, if you do not consider me as such, doesn't matter, because I do and I appreciate you even if you hate me"

"You are..." He scoffs, grinning like a fool "Unbelievable"

"I know. One of my many charms. That and being a matchmaker. I love it. It is wonderful to make couples at court, and more if they end up together, being all happy and..."

“Huh.” He hums, thinking of how odd you were. “Talking about the wonders of a married life”

“I didn’t say that. I merely stated that… marriage isn’t the worst. I intend to find a husband very soon as well. I would very much like to be a wife”

“I shall pray for the poor soul who calls you wife” He murmurs as he looks at the field below, where the knights were preparing, yet you hear his grumbles. 

“And I shall pray to see prince Aemond besotted for a lady” you say teasingly, standing up, not before doing a small courtesy and leave to sit by your father, who had just arrived, frowning a bit as to why you were with prince Aemond.

The tournament does not bore him at all. He is very into the way the fight develops, and he takes mental notes when he sees some weaknesses in the participants. He regrets, just a bit, not joining, because he thinks he could have won. 

He sees you, on the seats below him, jumping in excitement as the fight develops. You are into it very much, clapping and screaming as any commoner does outside the royal box. It was improper, but it was… cute. 

He can see the rest, clapping politely, not overly excited yet proper for the occasion. You were unlike the rest, yet at the same time, you were just like any lady. It amazed him, and he did not understand.

He soon realises that he is not the only one that has you in mind, when the winner of the tournament comes closer to the stands, riding triumphantly in circles while the audience cheers him on, the crown of the Queen of Love and Beauty on his lance.

“The Winner, Ser Dale Dondarrion shall find his Queen of Love and Beauty”

He hesitates for some moments, he thinks he shall name his niece Jaehaera to win the favour of the royal house, like his ancestor once did to little princess Daenerys at the early reign of King Jaehaerys. 

Yet his smile faints when he sees that the queen of beauty’s laurel falls into your lap. 

“Lady Lannister, I hope I am deserving of dedicating my victory for you, and shall your reign be full of joy, even if lasting one night”

You take the wreath of flowers, almost jumping in sight and squealing some thanks as Tyland accommodates the crown onto your braided hair. Your crowning came with an ovation full of applause, from the box and from the commoners… but him. 

It was an odd feeling, stirring something in him, as he watches your cheeks pink from the compliments of all, and most of all; having a suitor. Being named queen of love and beauty was not anything like a dull compliment of court merely because it was proper. It was being publicly courted, and often something many ladies wished, because there was no better feeling than being shown off to everyone. 

He was quiet the rest of the day. Humming when ladies talked to him, in hopes to gain his attention and be courted; when Aegon mocked him; when Helaena placed one of her bugs in his lap, which Maelor ended up squeezing on his grip; when his mother presented him a lady of a high castle with expensive clothes and a sweet behaviour, pure, and devoted. He paid little attention to it all.

It was when your reign was coming to an end that he asks for Tyland to come to the empty throne room. He was watching the throne, carefully inspecting it, as he calculated of his next words. He was being irrational, clearly driven by his emotions and desperation rather than the logically he usually had. 

“My prince” 

Tyland was no stranger to the formalities of court, yet he never let himself be intimidated by lords that tried to impose themselves. He was the second son, yet he had established a name for himself and earned respect in his position; there was nothing for him to feel belittled about

Yet intimidation comes natural with prince Aemond around. 

He has the impression that his one eye is wide open, and the smirk that naturally was on his lip was one of amusement in the suffering of the rest. Always stoic, never doing things out of impulsivity... Which was even worse. His hands behind his back, as he remained as still as a statue.

It did not frighten him, but he knew Aemond was as cold as unforgiving. And slicing his head won’t make the prince feel regret.

“Lord Tyland” Aemond greets him softly. 

A silence follows, as Tyland feels his hand sweating slightly. “An idea for the small council?” He tries to guess. “I am sure it can wait, my prince, I should be with my daughter, since it’s her day…”

“Exactly. That’s what I wanted to speak about”

Tyland is a smart man, and he quickly realises the problem.

“I know she can be presumptuous and slightly spoiled, my prince” He starts, feeling Aemond’s eye on him as he turns to face him. “She takes the title too seriously, when it isn’t, Mushroom was just hyping her up, and she is just still a girl, and I apologise on her behalf for trying to impose herself as Queen, when her reign only lasts for a day, and she really is…”

“I want to marry her” Aemond tells Tyland simply. “Her reign shall not end. She can be a princess.”

Lannisters usually aren’t left speechless. They had never been known for their silence, yet here he is, silent.

“Ser Dondarrion made the same proposal hours earlier, my prince, and I…”

“And you will allow your daughter to marry a Ser instead of a prince? I have already told you. I want to be her husband” He insists, his tone not certainly soft as he loses patience. His soul craves you. He needs to be yours. He can’t let you go away. “She is smart and she has the wits. She is spoiled, and she loves to have her way. She is kind, sweet, and funny. And I want to be her husband and give her anything she asks for. Is that so hard to get?”

What wakes up Queen Alicent is her son with a stoic expression, not even entering her rooms to speak.

“I was wrong” He says simply “I shall marry Lady Lannister, mother. I am in a hurry. So I ask you to prepare the wedding. Good night and Seven blessings”

Almost a year later is when your father comes closer to your chambers once again, seeing how your ladies in waiting do a courtesy out of politeness, and he watches prince Aemond at your door, waiting for him.

“Came as fast as I could…”

“Hm” Aemond says, as he walks toward the open doors.

Tyland could have his distance with Prince Aemond, but he couldn’t deny how good a husband he was. He wasn’t a man of many emotions, in his perspective, yet he was a devoted husband. He danced as many times you wanted in the ceremony, sighing every time you made him stand up from his seat. He didn’t wear the eye patch on your wedding, just as you requested.

“That is the worst idea ever, darling” He said to you, and you rolled your eyes. 

“Well, he will have to if he wants to marry me”

And so he did. When you wanted to travel to Volantis, he arranged it all. When you wanted for him to meet Brightroar, he took Vhagar and rode into the Westerlands with you. 

“Was it all well?”

“Everyone in the castle heard a lion roar” Aemond says walking past the maesters. 

You seemed so little, in Tyland’s eyes, all sweaty and tired, like the time you got so sick he was afraid you would die. He had brought the very best maesters he could find, just to assure you were safe. 

“It is a girl” It’s the first thing you say to your father, smiling a bit. “A healthy baby”

Tyland leans, to kiss your forehead, as you extend your babe to him. It was a small thing, yet chubby and all pink still. She had small, silver hair, very thin, but present. He could see the little gold spot, as if gold hair would grow on some of her hair. It was indeed curious, and yet he couldn’t think she was anything but perfect.

“A bit squirmy” He comments, as the baby yawns, opening her mouth as she whines slightly. 

As he tries to coo the small thing, he watches how Aegon sits by your side, at the edge of the bed, passing his hand behind your shoulders to caress your shoulder. You lean against him a bit, and say.

“It is a pain to breastfeed, why didn’t you tell me?”

He chuckles a bit awkwardly, he had never gotten used to your bluntness and honesty. “I never knew anything about that”

“Well, it is. I thought babies knew how to do it, but she takes a long time” You say, looking up at Aemond.

“She is still very little, my love” Aemond reminds you. 

“I know, but what if I am doing it wrongly? Mothers usually know those things, and I find myself clueless. Aunt Joanna says it comes naturally, but she has successfully raised kids who have survived childhood.” You say, looking at Aemond. “So has your mother. How comes I don’t know?”

“Because you are a mother from little more than a day.” Aemond reminds you “And they had help. So you do. You have me, of course. You have wet nurses, maids, maesters, and my own mother and of course, you have the brightest mind. We’ll do”

“Did you know Aemond cried, father?” You tell him, and he finally looks away from his little granddaughter. 

He blinks, a bit confused, watching the prince. “Oh, did he?” 

“Yeah, it was rather cute” Aemond rolls his eye amused, as your hand was on his knee. 

“It’s the only natural response.” Tyland says, his finger caressing the skin of the sleeping babe, who squirmed a bit at the feeling, like a cat. “She is delightful. Have you named her?”

Aemond looks at you, amused, expecting you to answer the question. You had the smug grin on your face, and nodded. “We had a deal. If she had golden hair, she would have a Targaryen name. If she had silver hair, she would have a Lannister name”

“And?”

“Well, she is rather… peculiar. She had silver hair, but you can see how some gold hair has grown too? It is the oddest of things, but the Maesters said it was natural. You know how cats have different hair colours?”

“Don’t compare her to a cat” Tyland makes a face, softly rocking her in his arms.

“She has both silver and gold.” Aemond says, as if reminding you to keep on trail. 

“Ah, yes. Since it’s most silver, we agreed on something that you will find the brightest things, father.” You look at your husband and then your father. “Gaemma. It’s a bit… weird to say it, but with time it shall be delightful”

Tyland looks at you, and he blinks. “Like your cat?”

“Well, thanks to her I and Aemond met.” You remind him. “She deserves some credit” You add.

“I like it” he murmurs. “Don’t make your mama lose her mind” He says, as the baby yawn, extending her arms. 

“She will, after all she is her mother’s daughter” Aemond says, taking her back, and he adds “You should have seen how loud she wailed once she came.”

“I am here, world. Hear me roar” you say, as if trying to translate Gaemma’s cries. You smile widely, and Tyland knows that even if you were always going to be his little girl, you were in the best hands, and that Aemond adored the ground you walked on. Even if you name their child after your cat. 

[adarkandmagicalforest]

i misspelled lannister oh no now tywin has to take me out back and -

[daenystheedreamer]

my brain has been altered by maegor aerea girldad. maegor targaryen im not the step-dad im the dad who stepped up and it’s about his niece-wife’s autistic boygirl. she’s like i wanna go to valyria and see the burning smouldering demon realm we spawned at. and he’s like sick make sure to pick up brightroar if you see it the iron throne’s not pointy enough

[stormcloudrising]

The Secret Song of Florian and Jonquil Part 10: The Shrouded Lord and a Mermaid's UnKiss

December 24, 2023

Shrouded Lord_AI Generated Image by Nuevoimg_123rf

I ended last chapter with an excerpt from 1 Peter that referenced Christ as the Living Stone and proposed that George was using the legend of the Shrouded Lord in the book to mirror the biblical one. And as I discussed previously, the myth of the Shrouded Lord is in the story to inform upon Jon’s resurrection.  So, with that said, let’s jump right back in to talk about Jon Snow, the Living Stone and the kiss of life coming his way.

JON, THE SHROUDED LORD AKA, THE LIVING STONE

The sound of a kiss is not so loud as that of a cannon, but its echo lasts a great deal longer. —Oliver Wendell Holmes

We first hear mention of the Shrouded Lord in A Dance with Dragon where after the urging of Illyrio, Tyrion boards the Shy Maid to travel to Volantis with Griff and Faegon. While travelling on the Rhoyne, Haldon and Duck regal Yollo (Tyrion) with dark tales of the legendary pirates in the area.

Haldon gave him a thin smile. "If we should encounter the Lady Korra on Hag's Teeth, you may soon be lacking other parts as well. Korra the Cruel, they call her. Her ship is crewed by beautiful young maids who geld every male they capture." This time Duck laughed, and Haldon said, "What a droll little fellow you are, Yollo. They say that the Shrouded Lord will grant a boon to any man who can make him laugh. Perhaps His Grey Grace will choose you to ornament his stony court." Duck glanced at his companion uneasily. "It's not good to jape of that one, not when we're so near the Rhoyne. He hears." "Wisdom from a duck," said Haldon. "I beg your pardon, Yollo. You need not look so pale, I was only playing with you. The Prince of Sorrows does not bestow his grey kiss lightly." His grey kiss. The thought made his flesh crawl. Death had lost its terror for Tyrion Lannister, but greyscale was another matter. The Shrouded Lord is just a legend, he told himself, no more real than the ghost of Lann the Clever that some claim haunts Casterly Rock. Even so, he held his tongue. — A Dance with Dragons - Tyrion III

Four important things are revealed to us with the first mention of this mysterious figure. First, we find out that The Shrouded Lord is a Stone Man who lives in the Sorrows. Stone men are of course those in the last stages of greyscale who live in area of the Rhoyne where a thousand years previously, Garin is said to have called down the curse on the dragon lords of old.

Secondly, Tyrion associates him with Lann the Clever, the ancient ancestor of the Lannisters from the Age of Heroes who was said to have winkle Casterly Rock from the Casterlys with only his wits. Martin is usually implying something when he mentions these ancient figures in the text, and I have a couple of ideas why he had Tyrion think of Lann at this moment. One, I will write an essay on at another time, but the second reason is because I think his plan was to have Tyrion meet The Shrouded Lord, and it would have been Gerion, his missing uncle who disappeared when he went looking for the lost Lannister Valyrian sword, Brightroar.

George did write a chapter where Tyrion met The Shrouded Lord but decided not to include it in the books. Here is what he said about the discarded chapter.

“It’s a swell, spook, evocative chapter, but you won’t read it in Dance. It took me down a road I decided I did not want to travel, so I went back and ripped it out. So, unless I change my mind again, it’s going the way of the draft of Lord of the Rings where Tolkien has Frodo, Sam Merry and Pippin reach the Prancing Pony and meet a weatherbeaten old hobbit ranger named “Trotter.” —George R R Martin

The popular fandom reason for the deletion of the chapter is that there was too much magic in the scene. I think that this is a good take and quite possibly part of the reason for the deletion. George’s writing is centered on the character and the magic is secondary. There will be a big input of magic in the story, but that will be towards the end, and so the chapter with The Shrouded Lord might have been a bit too early.

All of this makes sense but only up to a point because there have been heavily magical scenes in the story already such as the birthing of Dany’s dragons, and her visit to the HOTU. Also, in ADWD, George gave us three magical scenes…Varamyr's attempt to body jump Thistle; Arya’s introduction to the magical faces of the Faceless Men; and Bran’s first visit inside the weirwood net.

That’s a lot of magical scenes in one book and so maybe George thought that Tyrion’s encounter with The Shrouded Lord was one too many. I tend to think that the true reason the chapter was pulled is because George felt it revealed too much about Jon’s resurrection, and he wasn’t ready to show his hand yet. There is also the fact that if Tyrion did meet The Shrouded Lord, Martin would have had to give him greyscale. This is something he may have been planning to do but decided against and chose to give it to Jon Con instead.

The third interesting thing we find out is that The Shrouded Lord will grant a boon to all who will make him laugh. This is important symbolism as it has to do with why there are as many fools appearing throughout the books as they are whor*s. I’m not going to go into the explanation about fools here as this chapter is already extremely long. However, I will again direct you to Crowfood’s Daughter excellent video essay on the subject.

Finally, we find out that the mysterious figure of the Sorrows is known by three names. In addition to The Shrouded Lord, he is also called His Grey Grace and The Prince of Sorrows. It just so happens that I can show you how all these names apply to Jon. His Grey Grace is obvious as he quite likely will be considered a king…at least for a while. I’ve also showed you last chapter why Jon's symbolic color is grey; and if he does get greyscale like I’ve proposed, part of him will have the grey scaly stone like scars of the disease.

So, what about the other two names. Well let’s start first with The Shrouded Lord.

Generally, when I see a representation of The Shrouded Lord in a video or featured in an essay, it’s of the standard fantasy image of a man in shadow wearing a grey cowl like those worn by monks…similar to the one I used for the header image of this essay. But here’s the thing. Yes, a cowl can be loosely considered a shroud but it would be at the bottom of the list of synonyms.

A shroud is more properly defined as, “a length of cloth or enveloping garment in which a dead person is wrapped for burial.” And the most famous one in all history is the Shroud of Turin, purportedly, the burial cloth of Jesus that is said to have his face imprinted or ingrained in it.

Shroud of Turin, Public Domain

Understanding this meaning of shroud as a burial cloth, one can immediately see that the Shrouded Lord is quite possibly dead. Of course, as there is no cure for greyscale once it has reached the point that you are considered a stone man, it may just be symbolism. Also, as he is given the title Lord, one can also extrapolated and say that he is considered the ruler of the dead…a kind of Hades like figure. Or maybe even, regarding the story…a Night’s King like personage.

As he’s using the word shroud, that’s so closely identified with Jesus, one can also assume that George might want the reader to associate this mysterious figure from the Sorrows with his own created Christ like figure…one Jon Snow.

You’re probably saying, interesting analogy, but it doesn’t mean that The Shrouded Lord is meant to tell us about Jon’s resurrection or even has anything to do with him. And to that I say, it gets better. I missed it the first time I read the book but when I re-read A Dance with Dragons several years ago, something hit me when I reached the chapters where The Shrouded Lord is mentioned. In making the association with the Shroud of Turin, my mind immediately wondered whether George was symbolically associating The Shrouded Lord with Christ.

Having already recognized that he had set Jon up as the Christ like figure in the books who would be resurrected, I then considered the strong possibility that he was trying to tell us something about Jon’s resurrection, but I wasn’t immediately sure what the connection could be. The fact that the Shrouded Lord was a stone man and thus had greyscale; and Shireen who for some inexplicable reason, Martin also gave greyscale and then place at the Wall where she was in contact with Jon, told me that I was on to something, but again, what did it mean? And then the memories of my years of Sunday school and sitting in too many Episcopalian church services to remember kicked in and I knew the answer. I remembered.

Christ, the Living Stone!

Jesus was prophesized to be the Living Stone. Here we get the first reference in Isaiah 28:16

16 So this is what the Sovereign Lord says: “See, I lay a stone in Zion, a tested stone,     a precious cornerstone for a sure foundation; the one who relies on it     will never be stricken with panic.

And then again in the Psalms 118:22.

The stone the builders rejected     has become the cornerstone; 23 the Lord has done this,     and it is marvelous in our eyes.

And here in 1 Peter, we get the full prophecy.

4 As you come to him, the living Stone—rejected by humans but chosen by God and precious to him— 5 you also, like living stones, are being built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood, offering spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ. 6 For in Scripture it says: “See, I lay a stone in Zion,     a chosen and precious cornerstone, and the one who trusts in him     will never be put to shame.” 7 Now to you who believe, this stone is precious. But to those who do not believe, “The stone the builders rejected     has become the cornerstone,” 8 and, “A stone that causes people to stumble     and a rock that makes them fall.” They stumble because they disobey the message—which is also what they were destined for. 9 But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s special possession, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light.  10 Once you were not a people, but now you are the people of God; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy. —1 Peter 2:4-10 NIV

This is the answer to the question that many in the fandom have pondered. Why did George make greyscale a part of the story? A plague is understandable. After all, his story takes place in a Middle Ages type setting when plagues were prevalent, but why one that turned its victims into living stones.

Now we know! Jesus was the Living Stone who died and was resurrected to save man. In ASOIAF, Jon is the Christ like figure who will die and be resurrected to be the savior of man. And thus, he needed to have living stone symbolism. He needed to be a living Stone and thus, George needed a way to turn him into a stone man.

In the bible, Jesus as the Living Stone is symbolic, but George made it literal for his story. This is why he invented greyscale; gave it to Shireen; and placed her at the Wall.

We now see how two of the three monikers assigned to the mysterious figure known as The Shrouded Lord can be directly connected to Jon Snow, our in-world risen Christ. He is His Grey Grace, and he is The Shrouded Lord. What about the third…the Prince of Sorrows? As George is also using it as a sobriquet for his in-world figure, it must also be connected to Jesus. Let’s look again at the Book of Isaiah for the answer.

2 For he shall grow up before him as a tender plant, and as a root out of a dry ground: he hath no form nor comeliness; and when we shall see him, there is no beauty that we should desire him. 3 He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief: and we hid as it were our faces from him; he was despised, and we esteemed him not. 4 Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. 5 But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed. 6 All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all. —Isaiah 53:2-6 KJV

This passage reminds me a bit of the tale Old Nan told Bran about the Night's King and how all records of him were destroyed and his very name forbidden; and later how Ygritte told Jon that Snow was an evil name. I would say the two are related.

Isaiah saying that Christ was not comely in our eyes also reminds me of Sansa saying that Florian was homely. The bible verse also shows us that Christ was known as a man of sorrows. Not quite the same wording as Prince of Sorrows, but then again, Jesus is also called Prince several times in other books of the bible, and Jon is quite possibly a prince in the books.

13 The God of Abraham, and of Isaac, and of Jacob, the God of our fathers, hath glorified his Son Jesus; whom ye delivered up, and denied him in the presence of Pilate, when he was determined to let him go. 14 But ye denied the Holy One and the Just, and desired a murderer to be granted unto you; 15 And killed the Prince of life, whom God hath raised from the dead; whereof we are witnesses. —ACTS 3 13-15

_____

5 And from Jesus Christ, who is the faithful witness, and the first begotten of the dead, and the prince of the kings of the earth. Unto him that loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood. —REVELATIONS 1:5

And of course, he is known as the Prince of Peace. Now that we see how the three monikers connect to both Jesus and Jon, what about Jon’s resurrection? Might the myth of The Shrouded Lord give us some idea about his resurrection? Yes. Yes, it does, because there just so happens to be a resurrection portion of the myth that symbolically plays out with Tyrion, Sansa’s motley attire husband.

The legend of The Shrouded Lord first appears in A Dance with Dragon, the same book where Jon is killed. We first read about Garin and the curse he called down on the dragon lords of old and how the ruins of Chroyane turned into the Sorrows in TWOIAF, which was published two years after ADWD.

Lomas Longstrider wrote of the drowned ruins of Chroyane, its foul fogs and waters, and the fact that wayward travelers infected with greyscale now haunt the ruins—a hazard for those who travel the river beneath the broken span of the Bridge of Dream.

However, that was not the first time the name Garin appeared in the text. It first appeared in A Feast for Crows and is the name of one of Arianne’s childhood friends who participated in her attempt to crown Myrcella queen. After their plot is rooted out by Doran, Garin is initially sent to Ghaston Grey.

During her next bath, she spoke of her imprisoned friends, especially Garin. "He's the one I fear for most," she confided to the serving girl. "The orphans are free spirits, they live to wander. Garin needs sunshine and fresh air. If they lock him away in some dank stone cell, how will he survive? He will not last a year at Ghaston Grey." —A Feast for Crows, Princess in the Tower

According to Arianne, “Ghaston Grey was a crumbling old castle perched on a rock in the Sea of Dorne, a drear and dreadful prison where the vilest of criminals were sent to rot and die.” Sea of Dorne is filled with so much symbolic implications with the potential use of two homonyms on George’s part, Sea of Dawn or even See of Dawn, but that’s a discussion for another day. The name is also likely another homage on George’s part to his favorite fairy tale, Beauty and the Beast, as Gaston, Belle’s proverbial suitor falls to his death in the sea below during his fight with the Beast.

Ghaston Grey does sounds like the perfect symbolic prison to send a prisoner named after the ancient Rhoynar prince who called down the greyscale plague upon the dragon lords. Garin is an Orphan of the Greenblood, the descendants of Nymeria and the Rhoynar who decided to remain on the rivers and not settle on Dornish land. And so, it makes symbolic sense that he was imprisoned in the “sea.” I mentioned Garin because originally, A Feast for Crows and A Dance with Dragons was one gigantic book before it was split into two by the publisher. And so, events in the two books are basically taking place around the same time. This shows that when George introduced the myth of The Shrouded Lord in the book where Jon dies, he was already thinking of Garin and the Rhoynar.

My regular readers probably think it’s boring the number of times I repeat in my essays that George is always consistent in his use of symbolism. I repeat it often because with the depth of symbolism built into the story, it’s amazing that he never drops the ball. And because I felt strongly that Florian and Jonquil were the ancient Night’s King and Corpse Queen, and Jon and Sansa their modern-day counterpart, when I figured how The Shrouded Lord connected to Jon and his resurrection, I was stumped by Florian’s motley armor.

I knew it had to be important because when the Tyrion drowning scene played out in the Sorrows, where he played the role of the Jon/Shrouded Lord character, he was wearing motley clothing. But I was stumped at what Motley might have to do with the Shrouded Lord and stone. That is, until I recently watched one of Crowfood’s Daughter ironborn videos and discovered that she had figured out the answer. Motley represented stone.

You can watch the video, Bless Him with Stone here, but what Amanda figured out is how motley is connected to stone. Motley as we are shown in the text is how the costumes of fools are described, and by connecting this to the real-world Harlequin fool from medieval history, Amanda hit on something interesting.

She discovered that there is a real-world disease called, Harlequin Ichthyosis, that’s very like greyscale. Also called fish scale disease, it got its name from the Greek word, ichthys, which translate as fish.

Harlequin Ichthyosis

With this discovery and the connection to motley and fools in mind, Amanda soon discovered in the text that George compares the scars from Shireen’s greyscale to Patchface’s motley costume.

Grand Maester Pycelle gaped at him, aghast. "Surely you do not mean to suggest that Lady Selyse would bring a fool into her bed?" "You'd have to be a fool to want to bed Selyse Florent," said Littlefinger. "Doubtless Patchface reminded her of Stannis. And the best lies contain within them nuggets of truth, enough to give a listener pause. As it happens, this fool is utterly devoted to the girl and follows her everywhere. They even look somewhat alike. Shireen has a mottled, half-frozen face as well." Pycelle was lost. "But that is from the greyscale that near killed her as a babe, poor thing." — A Clash of Kings - Tyrion III

Mottle as Amanda’s research also showed is from the 17th century and is a back formation of motley. From there, it was then easy for her to make the connection to Florian the Fool.

This morning the puppeteers were doing the tale of Florian and Jonquil. The fat Dornishwoman was working Florian in his armor made of motley, while the tall girl held Jonquil's strings. "You are no knight," she was saying as the puppet's mouth moved up and down. "I know you. You are Florian the Fool." "I am, my lady," the other puppet answered, kneeling. "As great a fool as ever lived, and as great a knight as well." —The Hedge Knight

___

"You hope to buy your way back into her favor by presenting her with me. An ill-considered scheme, I'd say. One might even say an act of drunken desperation. Perhaps if I were Jaime … but Jaime killed her father, I only killed my own. You think Daenerys will execute me and pardon you, but the reverse is just as likely. Maybe you should hop up on that pig, Ser Jorah. Put on a suit of iron motley, like Florian the—" —A Dance with Dragons, Tyrion IX

If George wants us to consider greyscale and motley in the same terms, then does that mean that Sansa’s favorite knight did not wear a motley suit of armor, but rather had greyscale. As soon as I got to this point in Amanda’s video, I knew that I had my answer about how stone connected to Florian, because it had to be if Jon, the modern-day Florian was The Shrouded Lord of the story. Eureka!

One thing I discovered in my research, which Amanda didn’t mention and so I’m not sure if she is aware is that there is a condition very similar to Ichthyosis called Livedo reticularis but more commonly known as mottled skin. It’s not as deadly or life threatening as Ichthyosis, but it does look somewhat similar.

Mottled Skin

Mottled skin causes a bluish-red, lace-like patter under the skin. Also known as Livedo reticularis, this condition happens when deoxygenated blood pools beneath the skin’s surface. This condition has many causes, including cold exposure and chronic medical conditions. —Cleveland Clinic

You can see from the picture below how similar it is to Ichthyosis. You know who else I wondered about when I read this description for mottled skin, Cold Hands. I wonder what his face and the rest of his skin looks like under his hood and cloak. But that’s a theory for another day.

One other thing Amanda’s video showed is that when you pull up mermaids on the wiki, you get a “see also” reference to Ichthyosis. It is called the fish scale disease and so that makes sense, but consistent symbolism people. Symbolism.

A MERMAID'S UNKISS

Now that we’ve discussed The Shrouded Lord, and how his myth is in the story to tell us about Jon’s resurrection as the symbolic risen Christ, let’s finally get to that resurrection and how Sansa will be smacked dab in the middle of it, something I’ve proposed for years.

Melisandre is what I like to call a shiny apple. George’s way of hiding the truth in plain sight. Because Thoros, another Red Priest brought Beric back, the fandom assumes Mel will do the same for Jon…especially as they went that route in the show.

Don’t get me wrong, she’s at the Wall because she has a role to play but it won’t consciously or unconsciously be about bringing Jon back. Although when it happens, other characters will think it was her, and she’ll likely take the credit, but it won’t be her. Mel is at the Wall to burn Shireen which will in some magical way, result in Jon getting greyscale.

I have a broad idea of how it will play out, which I will get into at the end. Mel won’t bring Jon back because what the tale of The Shrouded Lord tells us is that the return of the fiery dragon lord will be a cold one.

I have been saying for years that Jon and Sansa are the modern Florian and Jonquil and that George is telling their story through their interactions with other characters who act as stand-ins for each. In the case of Jon, Ygritte, the lover of songs, and Val, the non-maiden who Jon rejects when she looks like an icy, white hair ice queen, but thinks is loveliest thing he’s seen in a long while when she comes out of the trees of the haunted forest with her hair looking like dark honey and Ghost at her side.

As I pointed out in The Evolution of Val an essay I wrote several years ago, dark honey is dark brown in color with red highlights. A color very similar to the chestnut Sansa has been dying her hair as she hides out in the Vale. But she’s running out of dye and her red hair is symbolically beginning to peek out.

In Sansa’s arc, the role of Jon is being played by the Sandor Cleghane, the Hound. This is the angry Jon that will return with his wolf Ghost now literally a part of him. Jon will be savage like the Hound. This is why Sandor is given the Hound moniker. It’s to suggest a wolf hound…aka Jon.

Sandor’s burnt face also is there to foreshadow Jon’s face being burnt and likely where the greyscale will enter his dead body as I speculated above. This will likely happen in his funeral pyre. In Deep Geek has a great video about something like this happening. You can watch it here. Jon’s face being burnt at some point was also foreshadowed during his first meeting with Ygritte in the chapter that mirrors Sansa and Sandor on top of the Red Keep during the fiery battle of the Blackwater.

It all seemed to happen in a heartbeat. Afterward Jon could admire the courage of the wildling who reached first for his horn instead of his blade. He got it to his lips, but before he could sound it Stonesnake knocked the horn aside with a swipe of his shortsword. Jon's man leapt to his feet, thrusting at his face with a burning brand. He could feel the heat of the flames as he flinched back. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the sleeper stirring, and knew he must finish his man quick. When the brand swung again, he bulled into it, swinging the bastard sword with both hands. —A Clash of Kings, Jon VI

Sansa calmed the Hounds spirit when she sang him The Mother’s Hymn. And just as she tempered the Hound, she will do the same for beastly Jon, like Belle did to the Beast in George’s favorite fairy tale.

In, Do Direwolves dream of the Weirwood Net, I discussed and showed the textural evidence that suggests the bond mates of House Stark can access the weirwood net. This is important because I believe that when Jon called out to Ghost upon his death, their spirits merged, and Ghost took them into the weirwoods, and it is here that he will encounter Sansa and she will give him the kiss of life. There is a magical component that of course has yet to be revealed by the author, but textural clues suggests that this is what will happen. So, let’s now discussed those clues.

Sansa, like many other characters is an unreliable narrator. One of the biggest pieces of evidence to support this is the infamous UnKiss, as the fandom calls the kiss, she remembers sharing with the Hound.

Alla had a lovely voice, and when coaxed would play the woodharp and sing songs of chivalry and lost loves. Megga couldn't sing, but she was mad to be kissed. She and Alla played a kissing game sometimes, she confessed, but it wasn't the same as kissing a man, much less a king. Sansa wondered what Megga would think about kissing the Hound, as she had. He'd come to her the night of the battle stinking of wine and blood. He kissed me and threatened to kill me, and made me sing him a song. —A Storm of Swords, Sansa II

The kiss Sansa remembers, never happened. We the reader watch the scene play out on the page and we know there was no kiss between her and the Hound. She thinks of the kiss that never happened for a second time later in the book when having a conversation with Myranda.

She thought of Tyrion, and of the Hound and how he'd kissed her, and gave a nod. "That must have been dreadful, my lady. Him dying. There, I mean, whilst . . . whilst he was . . ." — A Feast for Crows - Alayne II

Why is Sansa remembering a kiss that never happened? A fan asked GRRM via email back in 2002, and this was his response.

“Well, not every inconsistency is a mistake, actually. Some are quite intentional. File this one under “unreliable narrator” and feel free to ponder its meaning.” —So Spake Martin

Some in the fandom has taken Sansa’s memory of the kiss that never happened as Sansa having romantic feelings for the Hound. However, I don't think that's it. Yes, Martin, has admitted that he has played with this aspect, but I feel confident it’s not because he intended any romance between the two.

Why do I say that Martin is not going to write Sansa having romantic feelings for the Hound? Because one of the core themes of the story is the evil practice of marrying girls before they are even of age to men old enough to be their fathers and often their grandfathers. Sandor Cleghane is old enough to be Sansa’s father being just a few years younger than Ned. Plus, Sandor assaulted and terrorized Sansa. George is not going to turn around now at the end of the story and create a romance between a child and a grown man who terrorized her.

Also, and this is important, we are shown on the page and told in the text that Sansa prefers boys her age. There is Joffrey before he showed himself to be a monster; Loras, the fake Rhaegar stand-in; and Waymar Royce, the Jon stand-in. And if that is not sufficient evidence, Sansa in her own words tells us that she prefers men close to her age.

"I suppose," Sansa said doubtfully. Beric Dondarrion was handsome enough, but he was awfully old, almost twenty-two; the Knight of Flowers would have been much better. Of course, Jeyne had been in love with Lord Beric ever since she had first glimpsed him in the lists. Sansa thought she was being silly; Jeyne was only a steward's daughter, after all, and no matter how much she mooned after him, Lord Beric would never look at someone so far beneath him, even if she hadn't been half his age. —A Game of Thrones, Sansa III

Jeyne has a crush on Beric, who is almost 22. Sansa who is 12 at the time, the same age she is when the UnKiss with the Hound supposedly took place, thinks Beric is too old, and that Loras, the Knight of Flowers who is 16 and just 4 years older than her would be much better. At the start of the story, Sandor Cleghane is 28. Why would Sansa have romantic feelings for him when she thought that Beric who is 6 years younger than the Hound was too old. Makes no sense. George is showing us that Sansa’s interest lies in boys her age.

However, GRRM has admitted that he’s been playing with the idea of something romantic between Sansa and Sandor, and so one must ask why? I think the answer is because Sandor is a stand-in for Jon, and what Sansa is remembering is not a kiss between her and Sandor but rather one between her and Jon.

In the chapter 8, I discussed why mermaids and dragonflies are symbolic sea dragons and how George has positioned Sansa as representing both. I also covered why Nagga, the sea dragon the Grey King slew was his mermaid wife and how that meant that Elenei, the mermaid wife of Durran Godsgrief should also be considered a sea dragon. However in the Durran/Elenei legend, the mermaid wife likely save her mate from drowning by giving him the kiss of life.

Then I discussed why sea dragons and mermaids represent the missing female greenseers of the story and why Nissa Nissa/Corpse Queen/Grey King’s mermaid wife was the first sea dragon and the first greenseer who was female. All of this led me to revisiting the textural clues that point to Sansa being the mermaid/sea dragon of the story and the missing female greenseer.

Legends say that mermaids or sirens as they are sometimes called often lure sailors to their death via drowning.

"A touch of fear will not be out of place, Alayne. You've seen a fearful thing. Nestor will be moved." Petyr studied her eyes, as if seeing them for the first time. "You have your mother's eyes. Honest eyes, and innocent. Blue as a sunlit sea. When you are a little older, many a man will drown in those eyes." Sansa did not know what to say to that. —A Feast for Crows, Sansa I

However, sometimes they will be a savior as in the case of the Little Mermaid, and Elenei saving Durran.

And now let’s look at what Sansa being a greenseer and the UnKiss might have to do with the resurrection of Jon Snow, the Shrouded Lord of Living Stone.

“We are made of blood and bone, in the image of the Father and the Mother,” said Septa Lemore. “Make no vainglorious boasts, I beg you. Pride is a grievous sin. The stone men were proud as well, and the Shrouded Lord was proudest of them all.” The heat from the glowing coals brought a flush to Tyrion’s face. “Is there a Shrouded Lord? Or is he just some tale?” “The Shrouded Lord has ruled these mists since Garin’s day,” said Yandry. “Some say that he himself is Garin, risen from his watery grave.” “The dead do not rise,” insisted Haldon Halfmaester, “and no man lives a thousand years. Yes, there is a Shrouded Lord. There have been a score of them. When one dies another takes his place. This one is a corsair from the Basilisk Islands who believed the Rhoyne would offer richer pickings than the Summer Sea.” “Aye, I’ve heard that too,” said Duck, “but there’s another tale I like better. The one that says he’s not like t’other stone men, that he started as a statue till a grey woman came out of the fog and kissed him with lips as cold as ice.” A Dance with Dragons, Tyrion V

In one of the myths told to Tyrion about The Shrouded Lord, he is said to have started as a stone statue until a cold kiss from a grey woman awakened or one might say, resurrected him. And as I’ve shown, the legend of the Shrouded Lord in only in the story to tell us about Jon’s resurrection. Thus, Jon’s resurrection should also involve a cold kiss from a woman in grey.

As we see from Melisandre’s vision, there is a mysterious girl in grey destined to connect with Jon. Sansa is this girl in grey. George has also inexplicably written a mysterious kiss into Sansa’s arc that supposedly never took place. I proposed that this kiss, or UnKiss as the fandom likes to call it is the one that will be tied to Jon’s resurrection, and it takes place in the weirwood net where Sansa will temper the savaged Jon and like Elenei did with Durran, save him from drowning in the green sea.

As we’re dealing with the weirwoods where time is circular, the kiss may have already happened, or Sansa could be seeing a future event. Nonetheless, the fact that she has memory of it is another clue that she is a greenseer. However, because she’s traumatized and the kiss is between her and her “brother” whose face is likely burnt, making him look more like the Hound, she has confused his identity in her mind.

I said above that George loves religious myths, but do you want to know what else he loves…fairy tales. And there are abundant references to such tales throughout the text.

Many essays have been written by others in the fandom about this topic, but the two I want to talk about here are Beauty and the Beast, and The Little Mermaid because those two are heavily prevalent in Sansa’s arc and in the resurrection of The Shrouded Lord…especially the mermaid linkage.

The original Little Mermaid by Hans Christian Andersen’s is very different from the Disney version so beloved by children, and George has merged the two in his version of the story. In Andersen’s version, mermaids live for hundreds of years and if the Little Mermaid (in the story, she is not given a name) is able to gain the love of the human prince, she will be fated to live out her days as a human. She will have a shorter life span but will gain a human soul. In ASOIAF, George gives us this tale of the fair Elenei.

The songs said that Storm's End had been raised in ancient days by Durran, the first Storm King, who had won the love of the fair Elenei, daughter of the sea god and the goddess of the wind. On the night of their wedding, Elenei had yielded her maidenhood to a mortal's love and thus doomed herself to a mortal's death, and her grieving parents had unleashed their wrath and sent the winds and waters to batter down Durran's hold. His friends and brothers and wedding guests were crushed beneath collapsing walls or blown out to sea, but Elenei sheltered Durran within her arms so he took no harm, and when the dawn came at last he declared war upon the gods and vowed to rebuild. —A Clash of Kings, Catelyn III

By the way, as I discussed in my Of Sansa Stark and Alayne Stone series, Elenei is a variant of Alayne, the name Sansa is hiding out under in the Vale as the daughter of the Merlin(g) King.

In both Andersen’s and George’s version of the tale, the mermaid saves the man from drowning. The mermaid also saves a man from drowning in the Disney version, but there is also the added detail of a kiss. While the sea witch, named Ursula in the Disney version mandates that the little mermaid must gain the prince’s love in the Andersen tale, the cartoon changes it to a kiss.

Martin has woven a life-giving kiss into his story as well with the tale of Elenei, the ironborn’s kiss of life, and even that of the R’hllorist cult with Thoros life giving the kiss to Beric and him in turn passing it on to Cat. And as we see, George has also woven it into the legend of The Shrouded Lord.

“Aye, I’ve heard that too,” said Duck, “but there’s another tale I like better. The one that says he’s not like t’other stone men, that he started as a statue till a grey woman came out of the fog and kissed him with lips as cold as ice.”

Did you notice Martin’s play on words there? The Shrouded Lord is not like the “Other” stone men.

Unsurprisingly, a stone statue is also a key element in both the Andersen original, and the Disney version of The Little Mermaid. In the original, the little mermaid finds the statue before she rescues the prince from drowning. It’s her first experience with anything from the human world and so, the statue becomes a prize possession. When she later rescues the prince, she realizes that he looks just like her statue, and this is part of what precipitates her falling for him.

On the other hand, in the Disney version, she finds the statue after she rescues the prince and it becomes a sign for her that she should follow him to the human world and this precipitates her visit to Ursula the sea witch.

We see that George has heavily built the tale of the Little Mermaid into his sea dragon and Shrouded Lord myths. So, what does all of this have to do with Jon’s resurrection, Sansa, and The Shrouded Lord?

Funnily enough, the very next Tyrion chapter after we first hear about The Shrouded Lord, the Shy Maid finally makes it to the Sorrows and is attacked by the Stone Men, leading to the near-death drowning experience of Sansa’s motley dressed husband and the answer to the question is provided. Let’s look at this chapter.

Chroyane_by Philip Straub_The World of Ice and Fire

“The Shy Maid moved through the fog like a blind man groping his way down an unfamiliar hall. Septa Lemore was praying. The mists muffled the sound of her voice, making it seem small and hushed. Griff paced the deck, mail clinking softly beneath his wolfskin cloak.” —A Dance with Dragon, Tyrion V

Make note that Griff , *Jon* Connington is wearing a wolfskin cloak, marking him as a symbolic wolf in the scene. This next excerpt is pretty long, but it is needed so that one can see all the symbolism and order of events playing out.

“Just saying a thing does not make it true. Who better to raise Prince Rhaegar’s infant son than Prince Rhaegar’s dear friend Jon Connington, once Lord of Griffin’s Roost and Hand of the King?” “Be quiet.” Griff’s voice was uneasy. On the larboard side of the boat, a huge stone hand was visible just below the water. Two fingers broke the surface. How many of those are there? Tyrion wondered. A trickle of moisture ran down his spine and made him shudder. The Sorrows drifted by them. Peering through the mists, he glimpsed a broken spire, a headless hero, an ancient tree torn from the ground and upended, its huge roots twisting through the roof and windows of a broken dome. Why does all of this seem so familiar?” “Straight on, a tilted stairway of pale marble rose up out of the dark water in a graceful spiral, ending abruptly ten feet above their heads. No, thought Tyrion, that is not possible. “Ahead.” Lemore’s voice was shivery. “A light.” All of them looked. All of them saw it. “Kingfisher,” said Griff. “Her, or some other like her.” But he drew his sword again. No one said a word. The Shy Maid moved with the current. Her sail had not been raised since she first entered the Sorrows. She had no way to move but with the river. Duck stood squinting, clutching his pole with both hands. After a time even Yandry stopped pushing. Every eye was on the distant light. As they grew closer, it turned into two lights. Then three. “The Bridge of Dream,” said Tyrion. “Inconceivable,” said Haldon Halfmaester. “We’ve left the bridge behind. Rivers only run one way.” “Mother Rhoyne runs how she will,” murmured Yandry. “Seven save us,” said Lemore. Up ahead, the stone men on the span began to wail. A few were pointing down at them. “Haldon, get the prince below,” commanded Griff.”

The large stone hand is like the symbolic hand of God hearing Tyrion’s words and passing judgment because just as they pass it, things get a bit crazy as some type of magic kicks in. Rivers only run one way except for in ASOIAF. Even their dialogue as they pass the bridge again is the same, but with differences.

The leap had shattered one of his legs, and a jagged piece of pale bone jutted out through the rotted cloth of his breeches and the grey meat beneath. The broken bone was speckled with brown blood, but still he lurched forward, reaching for Young Griff. His hand was grey and stiff, but blood oozed between his knuckles as he tried to close his fingers to grasp. The boy stood staring, as still as if he too were made of stone. His hand was on his sword hilt, but he seemed to have forgotten why. Tyrion kicked the lad’s leg out from under him and leapt over him when he fell, thrusting his torch into the stone man’s face to send him stumbling backwards on his shattered leg, flailing at the flames with stiff grey hands. —A Dance with Dragons, Tyrion V

Again, the hint of a man getting his face burnt. Tyrion knocked Young Griff down to protect him, but the stone man gets away and goes for the boy again.

“Stand aside!” someone shouted, far away, and another voice said, “The prince! Protect the boy!” The stone man staggered forward, his hands outstretched and grasping. Tyrion drove a shoulder into him. It felt like slamming into a castle wall, but this castle stood upon a shattered leg. The stone man went over backwards, grabbing hold of Tyrion as he fell. They hit the river with a towering splash, and Mother Rhoyne swallowed up the two of them. As he’s dragged to the bottom of the river by the stone man, Tyrion thinks, “there are worse ways to die than drowning.” And then we get this ending passage. I’ll haunt the Seven Kingdoms, he thought, sinking deeper. They would not love me living, so let them dread me dead. When he opened his mouth to curse them all, black water filled his lungs, and the dark closed in around him.

Tyrion, Sansa's motley wearing husband almost drowns in the green sea, and as it happens, he thinks of haunting the Seven Kingdoms as a dead man. I wonder what or better yet, who that might be foreshadowing?

When next we see Tyrion, he’s waking up and remembers dreaming of getting a grey kiss from the Shrouded Lord.

“He dreamt of his lord father and the Shrouded Lord. He dreamt that they were one and the same, and when his father wrapped stone arms around him and bent to give him his grey kiss, he woke with his mouth dry and rusty with the taste of blood and his heart hammering in his chest. “Our dead dwarf has returned to us,” Haldon said. “Tyrion shook his head to clear away the webs of dream. The Sorrows. I was lost in the Sorrows. “I am not dead.” —A Dance with Dragons, Tyrion VI

He then comments on his surroundings and we get this passage.

He was on the Shy Maid, Tyrion saw, under a scratchy blanket that smelled of vinegar. The Sorrows are behind us. It was just a dream I dreamed as I was drowning. “Why do I stink of vinegar?”

Why does he smell of vinegar? This bit is extremely important, and I will tell you why shortly. It’s George and his bloody consistent symbolism and another clue that he’s playing with the idea of Jon as Christ, the Living Stone.

Tyrion discovers that he was pulled from the river by Jon Con, and Septa Lemore then saved him. It was likely her kiss of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation that he mixed up with one from the Shrouded Lord in his dream.

“Lemore has been washing you with it. Some say it helps prevent the greyscale. I am inclined to doubt that, but there was no harm in trying. It was Lemore who forced the water from your lungs after Griff had pulled you up. You were as cold as ice, and your lips were blue. Yandry said we ought to throw you back, but the lad forbade it.” —A Dance with Dragon, Tyrion VI

As Crowfood’s Daughter stated in her video, Septa Lemore is a bit of an exhibitionist who likes to bathe naked in the river in sight of all…kind of like a mermaid; and Jonquil and her sisters when Florian viewed them in the Maiden Pool. Tyrion enjoyed watching Septa Lemore a few times. Thus, she is the symbolic mermaid stand-in for Sansa who gives Tyrion, the stand-in for the Shrouded Lord/Jon the icy kiss to bring him back to life. The fact that Tyrion is Sansa’s husband just completes the symbolism.

Tyrion and Griff are both stand-ins for Jon in the Sorrows scene. We've talked about Tyrion, but let's also look at what happens to Jon Con after he goes into the sorrows to rescue the little Lannister?

The symbolic wolf in the scene who just happens to have the same name as Jon Snow, is the one to get greyscale, the disease which turns one into a stone man.

If my theory that The Shrouded Lord’s purpose in the story is to tell us about Jon’s resurrection, then Jon Con is not just a symbolic wolf in the scene, but also a symbolic dragon. He was also closest to Jon's father Rhaegar as Tyrion mentions. So, it makes perfect sense that he’s the one to get greyscale in the waters where Garin called down a curse on the dragon lords of old.

As we are talking about Garin’s curse, Tyrion’s fall into the Sorrows may have proven that he’s not a Targaryen, because if he was, I think that he would have gotten greyscale. There is something magical about the Sorrows. The stone men ignored the Shy Maid as it travel through the Sorrows, and the pole boat had almost made it out the foggy landscape when Tyrion started talking about knowing that Young Griff was Rhaegar’s son, and the next thing you know, boat seem to be back where it started and they were again passing The Bridge of Dreams and this time, they were attacked by the stone men.

This plays into my theory that the story is about circular time and events are repeating but with differences…almost like different timelines. However, what I want to point out here is that on their second trip through the Sorrows when the stone men attacked, if you read the passage, they went right for Young Griff. It’s almost as if something heard Tyrion’s story and realized that there was someone with dragon blood on the boat.

So, about that vinegar. After all the evidence that shows how the description of the Shrouded Lord echoes that of the risen Christ, would you still be surprised if I tell you that vinegar also plays a part in Christ’s crucifixion?

In each of the 4 Gospels, Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, it is stated that the soldiers at the crucifixion offered Jesus sour wine when he said he was thirsty. Sour wine is vinegar. In fact, in one of the gospels, it is said that Jesus is given sour wine to drink while the others refer to it as vinegar because that is basically what sour wine is…vinegar.

they gave Him sour wine mingled with gall to drink. But when He had tasted it, He would not drink. —Matthew 27:34 KJV

36 “And one ran and filled a spunge full of vinegar, and put it on a reed, and gave him to drink, saying, Let alone; let us see whether Elias will come to take him down.” 37 With a loud cry, Jesus breathed his last. —Mark 15:36-37 KJV

36 The soldiers also came up and mocked him. They offered him wine vinegar 37 and said, “If you are the king of the Jews, save yourself.”— Luke 23:36

28 Later, knowing that everything had now been finished, and so that Scripture would be fulfilled, Jesus said, “I am thirsty.” 29 A jar of wine vinegar was there, so they soaked a sponge in it, put the sponge on a stalk of the hyssop plant, and lifted it to Jesus’ lips. 30 When he had received the drink, Jesus said, “It is finished.” With that, he bowed his head and gave up his spirit. — John 19:28

Sour wine was the only type of wine that soldiers would have had available to them. For this reason, some biblical scholars have argued that as it was the only thing they had to give, it was meant as a succor and not an insult. Others have argued the opposite. The reference to vinegar is not only in the 4 gospels. It is also referenced in Psalms 69.

The Psalms are part of the Old Testament and were written by King David. However, modern biblical scholars have argued that there were other writers of these group of songs. Psalms 69 is a lament, and as it is part of the Old Testament while the Gospels and the life of Christ are distilled in the New Testament, it is also seen as a prophecy of the suffering of Christ, and this is why it is associated with his crucifixion. In the Episcopalian Church, it is recited during Good Friday services, the day of Christ’s crucifixion.

It is too long for me to include, but I do want to post a few lines. You can read the full Psalms here.

1 Save me, O God; for the waters are come in unto my soul.

 2 I sink in deep mire, where there is no standing: I am come into deep waters, where the floods overflow me.

14 Deliver me out of the mire, and let me not sink: let me be delivered from them that hate me, and out of the deep waters.

15 Let not the waterflood overflow me, neither let the deep swallow me up, and let not the pit shut her mouth upon me.

21 They gave me also gall for my meat; and in my thirst they gave me vinegar to drink.

As you can see, in the Psalm that is believed to prophesize the coming of Jesus to save us from our sins, water is used to foreshadow drowning. Although in the Psalms, the drowning is more spiritual in nature. On the other hand, in George’s tale, water is used to symbolize drowning in the green sea/weirwood net, which is what will be happening to Jon as his spirit resides in Ghost and he’s taken into the weirwood net.

It's Sansa, whose symbolic color like Jon, is grey because she is a daughter of House Stark; and thus, is wearing that color in Melisandre’s vision; and who happens to have red Night’s Queen hair, who will save Jon from drowning.

In part 3 of this series, I discussed the textural evidence that suggests the corpse queen was a redhead. However, a non-textural but still important clue to back up this idea is that in western art, mermaids are traditionally featured as redheads. There is no reference to hair color in the Andersen tale, but Disney’s famous Ariel is a redhead.

A Mermaid by John William Waterhouse

Let’s now recap the Tyrion chapters set in and around the Sorrows that occur in ADWD, the book where Jon Snow is killed and his spirit merges with his wolf and goes into the weirwood net as foreshadowed in the Varamyr prologue. We get several chapters that both foreshadows Jon’s resurrection and that he will get greyscale that turns one into a stone like figure.

First, we get the story of the leader of the stone men, The Shrouded Lord that echoes that of the real world risen Christ who was called the Living Stone.  Jon Snow is symbolically set up as the Christ like figure in ASOIAF.

There is also Jon Con, who just happens to have the same name as Jon Snow; and who just happens to be wearing a wolfskin cloak before he goes into the Sorrows; being the one to get greyscale…a disease that turns one into a stone man.

And we have Sansa, who George has strongly set up as a symbolic mermaid/sea dragon and who I argue is the missing female greenseer in the story associated with a mysterious kiss that has already happened; or possibly is still to occur. A kiss that she remembers happening with the Hound, but all evidence points to there not being anything of a romantic nature between them. There is also the fact that Sandor’s story mirrors Jon and he’s set up as the Jon stand-in in Sansa’s arc.

We have the tale of the Shrouded Lord starting out as a stone statue and being given life by the kiss from a grey woman who had lips as cold as ice. This woman’s cold lips and her grey color can’t help but make one think of the corpse/night’s queen. And further to the grey woman who kisses the Shrouded Lord, in the same book, we hear of Melisandre’s vision of a mysterious girl wearing Stark colors and coming to Jon at the Wall.

There is also all the mermaid symbolism in the text of them rescuing a drowning male, and how this symbolically plays out with Septa Lemore saving Tyrion in the scene where he acts as the stand-in for the Shrouded Lord. A scene that also echoes that of Christ’s crucifixion and resurrection with the use of vinegar.

I could go into detail of how Sansa’s interaction with Dontos, the stand-in for Florian in her arc also symbolically mirrors that of a mermaid saving a man from drowning, but this chapter is already overlong. As a result, I will again suggest that you watch Crowfood’s Daughter video, The Grey King’s Mermaid Wife for more details.

Now that I’ve discussed all the clues that suggest Sansa will have a role to play in Jon’s resurrection as well as why the Shrouded Lord is a stand-in for Jon, you might wonder how I think his return will play out.

Well, I think that Melisandre will have a role to play in the events, but she won’t be fully responsible for his return. With her, it will be more of an accident. I think that the kiss between Sansa and Jon will take place out of time in the weirwood net, and it will in some way, magically push Jon back into his body, but he will bring some of Ghost’s savage nature with him.

On the Melisandre angle, I think that she will burn Jon. She keeps asking R’hllor to show her Stannis but all she sees is Snow. She’s seeing Jon both literally and symbolically. Her vision includes a lot of snow which has begun to fall, but as we know, and saw in the TV show, ashes can also look like snow, and that’s what Mels is seeing around Jon.

Stannis tells Justin Massey that rumor may reach them that he is dead. Will that be true or not is not the subject for now, but I think that it’s possible that Melisandre may entertain this idea when she continues to be unable to see him in the fire, and even with his death, she continues to see Jon Snow in the flames.

Maybe this will lead her to recognizes that snow can sometimes look like ashes and then she comes to the realization that she should burn Jon. The Nights Watch and Wildings who will join to dispatch those who kill Jon would want to burn his body in either case to prevent it turning into a wight.

And this is where the prophecy of waking dragons from stones will come in. As far as Melisandre is concern, that hasn’t yet happened, and so in her quest to help the missing Stannis, she may see the burning of Jon as the way to make it so. She asks for Azor Ahai, but the flames keep showing her Jon Snow. Yes, Jon is dead, but maybe she thinks the R’hllor is telling her that the burning of his body will still lead to Azor Ahai, who she believes is Stannis.

Also, while she doesn’t know about Jon’s connection to Rhaegar and that he also has Targaryen blood, the Starks come from a long line of ancient kings and his brother was recently crowned king. Thus, to her, Jon also has king’s blood. But she needs two kings to wake the dragon, and that’s where Shireen comes in.

Shireen is not a king, but she is Stannis heir and has king’s blood. And so, Melisandre has her two kings to wake a dragon. Jon Snow and Shireen. It won’t be very difficult for Mels to convince Selyse to burn her daughter to the cause…especially if it will help Stannis. The queen is a devout fanatic. Does Melisandre think she will be waking a real dragon from stone? Possibly, but who knows. The point is that she’s doing it because she thinks it will help Stannis.

The interesting thing is that the Wildings and the remaining Nights Watch brothers won’t do anything to stop it. The Wildings will be the ones primarily in charge, and as we see from Val, they already think that Shireen should not be alive because of her greyscale. So, they won’t stop Melisandre from burning her.

Where will all of this take place? Radio Westeros has a great theory that Jon’s pyre will be in the weirwood grove of nine where he and Sam said their vows. It’s a great theory and makes a lot of sense, and so, I wouldn’t rule it out. However, I also wouldn’t rule out Jon’s pyre being at the Nightfort.

As I’ve said throughout this series, Jon and Sansa will be this timeline’s version of the Night’s King and corpse queen. As these two ancient figures are so associated with the Nightfort, it seems like Jon’s resurrection should take place there, but I don’t know what reason Melisandre would have to take the body there to burn…unless Castle Black is destroyed.

Shireen and Jon will burn in the same pyre or ones next to each other and while Jon’s body will be frozen initially, the heat will melt it and open the wounds given to him by his murder. And the greyscale ashes from Shireen will enter the wounds, giving him greyscale just as he’s being pushed back into his body and awakens. And, we have the dragon waking from stone.

While the details maybe different, I think that the ideas behind what some will call a hairbrained theory is sound when you consider that Jon must get greyscale if he is to become the Shrouded Lord and personify the Living Stone that was Jesus. The wine at the Wall is even called sour and so I would not be surprised to see that playing a part in his resurrection as well. Maybe Jon’s brothers will have a toast to him and throw some sour wine on his pyre.

The other boys gathered round the eight who had been named, laughing and cursing and offering congratulations. Halder smacked Toad on the butt with the flat of his sword and shouted, "Toad, of the Night's Watch!" Yelling that a black brother needed a horse, Pyp leapt onto Grenn's shoulders, and they tumbled to the ground, rolling and punching and hooting. Dareon dashed inside the armory and returned with a skin of sour red. As they passed the wine from hand to hand, grinning like fools, Jon noticed Samwell Tarly standing by himself beneath a bare dead tree in the corner of the yard. Jon offered him the skin. "A swallow of wine?" Sam shook his head. "No thank you, Jon." —A Game of Thrones, Jon V

Note how Sam who is no longer at the wall and wasn’t there for the mutiny and so won’t be there for Jon’s resurrection is written as separate from Jon and the other boys in the scene. Martin and his consistency.

So to recap, in the same book that Jon Snow, the Christ like figure of the story is murdered, and path to resurrection foreshadowed in the Varamyr prologue, George also gives us the myth of The Shrouded Lord, a stone statues that is brought to life by the cold kiss of a grey woman... a legend which mirrors the resurrection of real world Jesus.

George also places Shireen, the child who carries the greyscale disease that causes men to turn to stone at the Wall next to dragon blooded Jon. ln in the same book, Melisandre also get's a vision of a mysterious girl in grey traveling through the snow to Jon...a girl that strong clues suggests is Sansa. All of these elements that mirror the Shrouded Lord legend coalescing around Jon Snow. Happenstance? I say no.

As we wind things down, let’s revisit the question of why George wrote greyscale into his story? Well, as I’ve just shown, he did it so that Jon, the Jesus like figure in the story can mirror the real world risen Christ as the Living Stone. However, on a deeper philosophical level, I think that he wrote greyscale into his tale to show that organize religion…especially one with a deify figure at the head can be a plague upon the people.

George questions things…especially dogma, knowing that there are often no answers to the universal questions we all ask. While he may no longer believes the religious teachings he was taught in his youth, they have had a major influence on him and his writings. He loves the lore of the Christian faith and various world religions, and that’s why his stories are filled with so much mythology.

Nonetheless, he also recognizes that much evil has been done in the name of religion since the first such organization showed its face upon the world thousands of years ago. It doesn’t matter what the religion has been. Evil has been done in its name. This is because organize religion otherizes people. It creates an us versus them dichotomy.  And if you are not part of the us, then you must be “other,” with all that it implies.

You don’t belong. Your beliefs are wrong. You’re a sinner…etc. This theme about the evilness at the heart of organize religion and the deification of individuals is at the core of ASOIAF. I think it’s what D&D attempted to capture in their ham-fisted way on the show with Dany. Worshiping glorified God-like figures is never a good thing.

However, as I’ve stated, there is a dichotomy to the idea because to be human is to be part of a group…to be part of a community where we recognize each other’s wants and need; where we protect and provide for each other. But to paraphrase Hamlet, here’s the rub, because being part of a group always without fail leads to some form of organize religion. And so, what do you do!

Well, we’ve come to the end of this chapter, and we’re getting closer to the end of the series…probably only another couple of chapters. Next time, we are going to go to some dark places as I show you why what happened to Sansa on the show is not out of the realms of possibility in the books. Not with Ramsay of course; and it may not be physical in nature, but more mental…like what Varamyr attempted with Thistle. However, I do think that dark days are ahead for Sansa before she sees the dawn. I can’t tell you when the next chapter will be here because I must psych myself up to go to that dark place and write it. I also have a lot upcoming in the New Year, and so it might not be for several months, but it will be come.

So what does everyone think of the theory that Jon is the Shrouded; Sansa the girl in grey; and the Unkiss tied to Jon's resurrectin.

All comments welcome. Until next time.

ETA on 12/26 to fix a few typos and grammatical errors and also to add the two recap paragraphs.

ETA 9/6/24 to fix a couple of additional typos and add a couple of highlight to passages.

[gulnarsultan]

When Modern Reader was accepted into the Lannister House, the Casterly Rock is beaming with love and joy and you can feel warmth coming from the Lannister family and Modern Reader. There are rumours about that and of course that brought attention to Kevan, Genna and Gerion Lannister (Tywin’s siblings). And of course they wanted to meet Modern Reader because they are curious about her. When they meet her, then they realised why Tywin and Joanna accepted her and why they are adoring her. Modern Reader would have tea with Joanna and Genna Lannister.

Modern Reader: Thank you, Lady Genna.☺️

Yandere platonic Genna Lannister: Your welcome, dear. Please, you can call me aunt Genna.🥰

Modern Reader: All right aunt Genna.😁

And later Genna would tell Joanna that Modern Reader is so adorable and Joanna would agree with her.

Tywin and Kevan would deal with some problems concerning with Westerlands, and Modern Reader suggests a solution, which sounds good.

Yandere platonic Kevan: Brother, why you didn’t tell us about your daughter? She’s smart despite being young.

Yandere platonic Tywin being proud of his child: You didn’t ask. I agree with you. My daughter is smart.

Yandere platonic Gerion Lannister (before he disappears of looking for Valyrian Lannister sword Brightroar) spends time with Modern Reader telling jokes and you can hear a laughter from outside. And I think Modern Reader would ask uncle Gerion not to go looking for Brightroar because it’s dangerous and she doesn’t want him to be gone (dead or go missing).

Of course Tywin and Joanna are happy that they accepted Modern Reader as well as Cersei and Jaime. So one day they decided to make a family portrait of House Lannister and everyone were there, Tyrion wasn’t born yet. Modern Reader was standing close to her parents and siblings. When the family portrait was finished, everyone enjoyed it.

Meanwhile Modern Reader is standing out among Lannisters. It’s NOTICEABLE how Modern Reader looks DIFFERENT from Lannisters. And Modern Reader also notices it, but all Yandere platonic Lannisters (Tywin, Joanna, Kevan, Genna, Gerion, Cersei, Jaime) tell “Y/N, you are Lannister and you always be a Lannister no matter what.” ☺️🥰😌🥰😉😊😊 (Modern Reader is about to cry with happy tears 🥹)

But of course there would be those who would say that Modern Reader is NOT a Lannister, saying “The lions have a cat, not a cub.”- which means as an insult. But Modern Reader doesn’t care, well because you shouldn’t mess with a cat, especially with a wild cat.

All Lannisters love your reader and treat them as family. The Reader is the Lannisters' secret guardian angel. Honestly, I don't know who would want to deal with such an angry cat.😅

[racefortheironthrone]

how do you think a poor house like Mormont got a Valyrian steel sword?

So the Mormont sword is interesting, because it was acquired five hundred years ago, which is pretty recent by Westerosi standards and only a hundred years before the Doom of Valyria.

So what was happening in Westeros around that time? Well, to me the most relevant date in question would seem to be the founding of Dragonstone about a hundred years prior as the westernmost outpost of the Valyrian Empire. This outpost most likely functioned primarily as a trading entrepot, and we know that the Valyrians liked to trade Valyrian steel for gold and silver.

While Valyrian steel was still ruinously expensive, it is noticeable that after Dragonstone is established, a whole bunch of Houses suddenly acquire Valyrian steel swords: the Mormonts get Longclaw 500 years ago, the Tarlys get Heartsbane 500 years ago, the Lannisters get Brightroar around 500 years ago, etc. My guess is that the arrival of Valyrian traders lowered the price of Valyrian steel to the point where more Houses could afford it.

[daenysthedreamer101]

House Lannister of Casterly Rock

House words - "Hear me roar"

House colors - Crimson and Gold

House sigil - A golden lion on a field of crimson

Region - Westerlands

Culture - Andal

Language - Common tongue

Religion - Faith of the Seven

Seat - Casterly Rock

Ancestral weapon - Brightroar

Their unofficial house words, equally well known are "a Lannister always pays his debts"

[waitingforsecretsouls]

Encouraging people to check out reddit user Genghis/Kazoo’s asoiaf meta. Even if you end up not agreeing with some stuff, it offers interesting new perspectives (compared to popular/accepted fandom opinion on the issues in question) and certainly revitalized my interest in the asoiaf lore, so you might find it thought-provoking or just plain fun nonetheless! Some of my favourites include:

1. Mance Rayder woke the Others on purpose, to gain personal power and further the interests of an Asshai'i conspiracy . What it says on the tin, an alternate perspective on Mance and the Others both that fits GRRM’s stated goals for the series as well as its themes far more than the popular ‘everyone vs the (maybe not completely evil) Others’.

2. The Stallion's Revenge: How Mirri Maz Durr Ruined Everything. If you have strong Mirri opinions the title might sound a bit inflammatory, but basically the meta deals with the true nature of Azor Ahai and the way Mirris well-intentioned but ultimately utilitarian prevention of his incarnation in Rhaego led to a far worse alternative, because prophecy in asoiaf cannot ever be useful except in hindsight (and no, it does not involve Dany as Azor Ahai or the ‘Great Darkness’).

3. The Grey King = the Pearl Emperor = the first Hightower: Decrypting the mythology of the Grey King, GEOTD, Oldtown, and the Seven . Connecting some dots in the Dawn Age lore between the Great Empire of the Dawn, the Ironborn, and the Hightowers/Oldtown, all highly relevant for the series plot-thread regarding...the Ironborn, Azor Ahai Reborn and Oldtown.

4. Invasion from the Deeps, Part 2: Beyond the Eldritch Apocalypse. Similar in flavour to the above in that it examines the Dawn Age history of the Ironborn and why the connection to some sort of fishy precursor race or a sort of ‘Deep Ones’ is misguided, particularly regarding the series endgame.

5. The Jade Compendium and why Lightbringer is a genuine goddamned superweapon . What exactly is the deal with Lightbringer and why is it so dangerous? Hint: It’s because it’s not three adolescent dragons. You’ll wish it was as tame as that.

6. Brightroar, the Black Bazaars, and a Big Boom: A New Theory on Who Sold the Lannisters Their Sword and Blew Up Valyria. An investigation into one of the most consequential events in asoiaf history, with a side dish of explanation as to the above-mentioned ‘Asshai’i conspiray’.

6.5 Lightbringer "went critical" and caused the Doom of Valyria. With an    addendum of Lightbringers potential involvement.

7. How Sam the Slayer is being forged by the narrative into the ultimate weapon against Euron. Predictions regarding Sam and the Reach and Euron. Or: Why the Reach is doomed to become part of Sams tragic backstory (...2!) and fuel for his at the least significant contribution to Euron’s defeat in the series climax.

8. Ten reasons nobody should trust the Azor Ahai prophecy. Arguably a bit ‘basic’ after all that, but a valuable little summary nonetheless, since it’s far from  the universally agreed upon perspective (despite the fact that GRRM is not subtle about it).

9. The Bloodstone Emperor and Azor Ahai both sound eerily similar to Ineluki the Storm King from Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn. More Azor Ahai ‘lore’. If you’ve read some or all of the previous theories you’ll probably already have seen it come up, but here’s a salient collection of their parallels.

10. Euron is definitely Azor Ahai reborn. I had to put it on the list, despite the fact that it will have appeared in multiple of the theories listed above. I just love the core-concept of it. So. much. ’Euron’ endgame material for real.

11. No, the Five Forts aren't the Wall of Essos. Another deconstruction of a widespread fanon and it’s implication for the series endgame.

12. Qarth is the Gnostic false Eden, and Highgarden an imitation thereof. The First Men originated in Qarth. Moving away from my beloved Ironborn, an interesting theory about the origin of the First Men!

[swordmaid]

bc I was watching the mummy earlier, jb the mummy au with archeologist brienne who’s studying the ruins of old valyria and adventurer jaime who’s looking for the ancient house lannister’s ancestral sword brightroar as well as trying to find out how gerion disappeared

[thaliajoy-blog]

Asoiaf ladies + Swords project is drafted 😘

- Catelyn + Widow's Wail // Stoneheart + Ice

- Sansa + Oathkeeper

- Melisandre + the false Lightbringer (we'll call it Illumination, cause it's how it's called in the french translation)

- Brienne + the Just Maid, another mythical sword gifted once to a hero by the Maiden

- Daenerys + the real Lightbringer

- Cersei + Brightroar, the lost Lannister Valyrian blade

- Gilly + Heartsbane, the Tarly Valyrian blade

- Asha + the Harlaw Valyrian blade Nightfall (and maybe the Drumm Valyrian Blade, Red Rain)

- Malora Hightower + the Valyrian blade Vigilance

plus the only non-current timeline ladies on the list :

- Lady Sharis Footly + Orphan-Maker, a Valyrian blade wielded by ser Jon Roxton

- Rhaena of Pentos + Lady Forlorn, the Corbray Valyrian blade

[istumpysk]

What's your favourite Valyrian sword name?

Lady Forlorn, and it's not even close.

Brightroar is the absolute worst.

[claudiatherelentless]

Brightroar / Ice / Oathkeeper & Widows Wail are like a microcosm of the Lannister Legacy.

Brightroar was legitimately their ancestral Valyrian Steel Blade. It was made for them and everything, but it was lost doing something stupid and vainglorious. So then they Stole another family's Ancestral Blade and made it their own.

Except it didn't quite work. The stolen steel wouldnt take the Lannister Colors, just like The Rock has never had the Lannister Name.

I have no doubt that Somehow Oathkeeper and Widows Wail will wind up in the hands of The Starks once again and I do believe that the Lannisters will lose Casterly Rock somehow....

[freeusemuses]

The golden lion: Leon Lannister

Name: Leonidas Lannister

Age: 26

Height: 6'8

Hair color: Golden blonde

Eye color: Blue

Leonidas, who prefers to be addressed as "Leon", is the son of Geryon Lannister. The brother of Tywin who vanished while in pursuit of the missing Valryian steel sword: Brightroar.

In truth, Geryon found the greatsword in the ruins of Valerya. But he refused to return to Westeros. Instead, choosing to raise his son in the Free Cities. It was only when Geryon passed, that Leon returned to Westeros, Brightroar in his possession. And with it, the claim to Casterly Rock.

Leon is a man of honor. More befitting of House Stark than the shrewd backstabbing men that House Lannister had become. He has no time or patients for dishonorable men, nor their tactics. And as such, holds his uncle Tywin, and his cousin Cercei in contempt.