#in defense of arya stark

[atopvisenyashill]

not to keep harping on but definitely the complaint i see that really sticks in my craw is that the only reason or the main reason robb planned to banish catelyn to seaguard was because of their argument over jon. it’s certainly a factor but they have spent the entire war arguing over every decision robb makes! ned tells robb “keep your mother in your council” but robb really does not! he has her there, yes, he lets her speak, yes, but oftentimes he will disregard her advice without any appeasement, misstep badly, and be worse off politically in the exact way she warned him of. she’s not the only person he blows off - he’s not exactly nice to edmure either, for example - but cat is right when she suspects there’s an element of “kings are not supposed to have mothers” and “wedded to his war" and she clocks this long before the argument over jon! robb tries to get rid of her at the beginning of a clash of kings when all cat has done is urge him to continue peaceful negotiations with the lannisters!

robb is angry because he’s in over his head and he knows it, and it's got very little to do with jon! robb is losing this war and his best friend was the son of a man who crowned himself and lost the war!! robb knows exactly what’s going to happen to the north if he loses and despite everything, he cannot seem to win despite being a near prodigy in battle tactics. and here his mother has been this whole time, fighting him on every front - just like the lords but he cant punish them for disagreeing can he? - and being so frustratingly right about more things than his lords, and now they’re picking at this wound in their family that has never been allowed to heal and a lot of resentment that both robb and catelyn are feeling at their general situation gets focused in on each other. this is such a tully thing too (pls remember these are canonically unpleasant people!) because look at lysa projecting years of resentment onto sansa, look at the entire cat, hoster, edmure situation, or even hoster & blackfish’s relationship. family is so important to them but in times of stress, “doing everything for family” becomes an anchor pulling them down, until the only thing left is to lash out at each other.

most of the lords are happy to let this nonsense play out! catelyn does not even have the privilege maege & dacey mormont do at being head of their own house - she’s just a wife, just a mother, just a first born daughter. when she disagrees, they don’t see an equal arguing with them, they see a woman sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong. they do not give a single solitary shit about like, ~the plight of bastards~ they just believe, like robb, that sansa is currently “tainted” by her marriage to a lannister and can’t be allowed to inherit, that arya is dead, that the boys are dead, that jeyne is not yet pregnant, and a bastard boy castle raised who looks like ned is better than no boy at all (see edric storm, addam of hull, and larence snow). these men have not spent the last fourteen years cooking in their resentment over this situation the way catelyn and robb have!

jon is a reason. but so is rickard karstark, jaime lannister, willem lannister, tion frey, renly baratheon, walder frey, and theon greyjoy. ned is a reason as well, and bran, sansa, rickon, arya, hoster, edmure, perhaps even lysa and sweetrobin. jon is the final straw but robb isn’t (only) sending catelyn away because of some righteous fury on his brother’s behalf! he’s sending her away because she is an easy, socially acceptable target for all his frustrations and failures and fears that he can project on, and punish, in a way he cannot punish his enemies, his lords, or himself.

and catelyn is as always very aware of the deeper motivations in her son’s mind, and resentful that she doesn’t have the power to push back; she’s just a mother, after all.

[nestvrn]

is it just me or did grrm really make all the powerful characters in asoiaf women? and yes, even though dany and cersei lost in the end of s8, which makes sansa the only woman with real power as the queen in the north, but let's just think who had more real power, had been successful and not for just one episode or season during the whole show?

[fromtheseventhhell]

From now on, every time I see a "let Arya be ugly 🥺" post I'm gonna make a "let Sansa be stupid" post. If we aren't allowed to point out what's written in the books then y'all don't get to write fanfiction about your faves, sorry. Since we all care about defending canon so bad, don't get upset when I point out that Arya has shown more intelligence across three chapters than Sansa has shown across five books.

[lady-0f-the-wood]

Disagree with the part that suggests that Cersei "just being there" is a factor in this topic, but definitely agree with everything else. Sansa and Arya are just normal girls who are at odds with one another.

listening to sansa i again and like. she and arya have the most normal sibling problems ever LMFAO. this series has fratricide and twincest and yet the most unhinged discourse exists about 11-year-old and 9-year-old sisters who are simply very different people and are (not so simply) contending with insane westerosi gender expectations. and cersei’s there! would YOU be normal to a sibling if cersei lannister were inflicted upon your developing personality? then killed your dog specifically to spite said sibling

[atopvisenyashill]

there's a really sad parallel theme running through arya and cat's stories and it's that both of them are considered to be Doing Womanhood Improperly and struggling at how to reconcile their own feelings with the expectations of the people around them...

cat spends her whole life with arguably more power than most women would have due to her atypical life; first, as heir presumptive of riverrun, then, as acting lady of riverrun, and finally, as ned's beloved wife. all of this gives her the freedom to do wild stuff like travel to KL in secret, take tyrion hostage (and outwit him at nearly every turn!), get involved in conspiracies and politics and help raise banners, to use her shrewd mind and her intellect in a way that challenges and excites her....but when ned dies, every single iota of power is stripped from her and handed to robb by law and there's nothing she can do to reign in her fifteen year old son who makes mistake after mistake and drowns out her voice because it conflicts with his....

and as she struggles through her complete loss of power, unable to decide for herself where her path will go, unable to give commands, unable to argue for the safety of her daughters, helplessly watching her father die, arya goes on her own journey that involves a complete loss of power. arya's womanhood is a constant threat looming over her head so she leans into her non conformity to save her own life and fears that her newfound strength and harshness will make her mother turn from her for Being A Lady Incorrectly, never knowing that her mother is so desperate to get her back that catelyn has decided she's through being a proper lady and starts arguing back, starts acting without asking, starts showing her resentment on her face and gets herself banished by her own son...

both of them spend all of the first two books struggling with their womanhood only to have a flashpoint of realizing they can simply stop following the rules because the rules are unfair - from arya's " I am a direwolf, and done with wooden teeth" to catelyn freeing jaime from the dungeons, they realize the Rules of Men will never help them, will never save them, and turn to their own intellect, their own grief, their own cunning and despair and violence, to do what the Rules of Men have never been able to do and that is to keep them as women safe.

And its with each other, I think, that they will only be able to lay down their despair and grief and find both peace and comfort in this new definition of womanhood that they've both carved out for themselves!

[fromtheseventhhell]

Sometimes I see people misinterpreting Arya's character and honestly, all it does is make me appreciate her that much more. George could've easily written her into as a basic archetype and instead, he gave us one of the most complex and well-developed characters in the series and I'm forever grateful for that 🫶🏾

[house-of-daenerys]

[thisonetimeinmeridian]

Yes, because they didn't bow down to her and immediately accept her rule despite her entire claim resting on her father, who tortured their grandfather and uncle to death, means they are the bad guys despite the story telling us differently as the person I rebloged this from stated so eloquently.

Anyways, sorry for responding to something so old

You either die a hero, or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain.

Guess which applies to these three?

[novaursa]

jaqen h’ghar x fem!stark!reader! there in harrenhal and she’s Aryas older sister. “if i do this thing, a girl must obey.” “a girl will obey.”

jaqen h’ghar is obsessed

A Game of Faces

- Summary: You meet your sister’s “friend” and he offers his help, for a price.

- Pairing: stark!reader/Jaqen H’ghar

- Note: The reader is Arya's older sister.

- Rating: Mild 13+

- Next part: name

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

The walls of Harrenhal loom dark and foreboding, each stone etched with the torments of those who have suffered within. You move silently through the damp corridors, eyes sharp and ears keen, every sense attuned to the danger that lurks in every corner of this cursed place. Arya is at your side, her small hand gripping yours, knuckles white with fear and anger. The men who captured you—those cruel soldiers in Lannister red—tore you from one nightmare and cast you into another.

Your sister’s “friend” Jaqen is never far from you. His presence is a mystery, his identity a mask more impenetrable than any helm. You’ve watched him from afar, seen the way he moves like a shadow slipping between torchlight. There is something unsettling in his eyes, a depth that swallows you whole when he looks your way.

One evening, you find yourself alone in the courtyard, watching the sun sink behind the jagged peaks of the mountains. Arya is with the other prisoners, her task for the day yet unfinished. You feel the weight of the castle pressing down on you, a suffocating presence that seeps into your bones.

“A girl looks troubled.”

The voice is smooth, with an accent that lilts like a melody. You turn, startled, to see Jaqen leaning against a stone column, his gaze fixed on you. His red-and-white hair glows in the dim light, a vivid slash against the drab surroundings.

“I am fine,” you lie, your voice steady but your heart hammering in your chest. There is something about him that makes you wary, though you cannot say why.

“A lie,” he says softly, as if amused. “A girl carries many burdens on her shoulders. Perhaps too many.”

You bristle at his words, but before you can respond, he steps closer, his movements fluid and graceful. There is a scent about him, something foreign and faintly sweet, like spices from lands you have never seen.

“You are Arya’s friend,” you say, more statement than question.

“A friend, yes.” He tilts his head, studying you with eyes that seem to pierce through all your defenses. “And perhaps a friend to you as well, if a girl wishes it.”

“I don’t need friends,” you reply sharply, your voice low. “I need to protect my sister and find a way out of this place.”

Jaqen’s smile is enigmatic, his eyes gleaming with something you can’t quite decipher. “A girl’s desire is a noble one. But sometimes, to protect, one must first obey.”

His words send a chill through you, and you take a step back, instinctively putting distance between you. He doesn’t follow, merely watches, his gaze never leaving your face.

“If I do this thing, a girl must obey,” he says quietly, his voice a whisper of silk and steel.

“What thing?” you ask, though you already sense the answer, a dark promise hanging in the air between you.

“A girl must say a name. And in return, a man will grant her wish. But a girl must obey.”

His words are simple, but the weight of them settles heavy in your chest. You know what he means—Arya has told you about his offer, the deaths he can deal with a whispered name. But you are not Arya, and you do not want to wield death like a blade in the dark.

“I don’t want anyone to die,” you say, your voice trembling despite your resolve. “I just want us to be free.”

Jaqen’s expression shifts, something softening in his gaze. He steps closer, and this time you do not move away. His hand, cool and gentle, reaches out to brush a lock of hair from your face.

“A girl’s wish is a pure one,” he murmurs. “But in this world, freedom comes at a price.”

You meet his eyes, feeling the pull of them like a tide. There is a power in this man, something dangerous and compelling, and it frightens you as much as it draws you in.

“What do you want from me?” you ask, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Jaqen’s smile returns, a shadow of itself, and his hand drops back to his side. “A man wants nothing. But a girl must remember: if a man does this thing, a girl will obey.”

The words hang between you like a vow, a binding promise sealed by the intensity of his gaze. You nod, unable to look away, and he inclines his head, satisfied.

“A girl will obey,” he repeats, as if to himself, before turning and walking away, his steps as silent as a ghost.

You watch him go, your heart a wild drum in your chest. You do not understand him, cannot fathom the depths of his motives, but you know one thing with a certainty that burns in your veins: Jaqen H’ghar is no ordinary man, and the game he plays is one of life and death. And you, caught in the web of his interest, are now a piece on the board.

When Arya returns to your side, her face smudged with dirt but her eyes alight with fierce determination, you pull her close, holding her tighter than before. You will find a way out of Harrenhal, you vow. You will keep her safe.

But as you look back at the shadowy figure disappearing into the castle’s depths, you cannot shake the feeling that your fate is now entwined with his, in ways you cannot yet see.

[sare11aa11eras]

I know I post intermittently abt the basketball AU of ASOIAF that lives in my head rent free but anyways the women’s college basketball season in the US just ended and I really do have some thoughts:

Sansa Stark 6’3” and kind of stacked she SHOULD be a post player but has never once driven to the basket in her LIFE. Somehow manages to make up for this in sheer volume of 3 pointers. Keeps getting compared to her mom who was the most terrifying power forward you ever saw in the Riverlands 20-something years ago despite the fact that there is almost nothing in common with their game styles.

Arya Stark, guard, has a really sweet mid-range game that everyone always forgets about but she’s got like 18 points in 28 min, makes about 5 steals a game. Unfortunately, gets in foul trouble. Keeps getting compared to Jon which drives her nuts.

Robb, went to the Westerosi National Basketball League at like 18, but before the championship game, the coach of an opposing team got a second coach to get players to deliberately injure him during a game. Somehow he got called for a technical foul on this. Ended his career in professional sports.

Dany, 5’6”, floor general and sharpshooter. Regularly beats defenders with more than half a foot on her to rebounds. Plays internationally full-time but her highlight reels still end up on Westerosi ESPN bc her family was at one point a dynasty in the basketball world. 90% of her instagram page is her with her three lizards.

Brienne is the Post Player’s Post Player— always boxes out, gets the rebound, blocks shots, drives etc, impeccable footwork. And then she also hits from distance and can guard. Cersei, the aging vet on the Lannisport Lions, wants her dead for once committing SEVEN blocks on her in a game when she was a rookie. Currently coached by Cat for the Riverlands Fighting Trout. There is a not insignificant fanbase of lesbians who want her to crush their heads with her thighs online but she is tragically into disgraced ex-Lions player Jaime Lannister who keeps bumming around the Riverlands for unclear reasons.

<insert that one post about Aeron Greyjoy as a basketball player here>

Jon Snow has been fouled out of games with technicals. He has never made a basket apart from a fast break layup or a free throw— except for like, two separate years??? where he got his team to the semifinals through a buzzer beater logo 3????? Somehow the undisputed defensive player of the year, the most universally loathed player in his conference, beloved by his own team, and a guy who once went viral for a video of him crying on his girlfriend after HER team lost while she just sort of patted his head.

[transrevolutions]

asoiaf modern au where agot takes place in the most dysfunctional secondary school ever. arya has an accommodation plan for her adhd that gives her permission to draw in class but cersei (who is the kind of teacher that hates having to follow inclusion policies) gets mad and throws away one of arya's wolf oc drawings except that particular drawing was actually sansa's and when sansa finds out she gets so pissed off that she dumps joffrey over it. joffrey gets cersei to try and get ned removed from his position of assistant principal even though he's basically running the school at that point because robert baratheon (the real principal) keeps getting drunk when he's supposed to be working.

jon joins an after-school self-defense/outdoor survival skills club and somehow ends up in a weird leadership role because he's one of the only ones who knows what he's doing. tyrion shows up sometimes to try and sell him shitty weed. arya is always begging him to let her come even though she's still under the age limit. daenerys is a transfer student who spends every single one of her classes doing wings of fire rp on scratch.mit.edu but still manages to get good grades so a bunch of the teachers hate her because they're convinced she's cheating.

robert baratheon gets fired after the school board gets an anonymous tip about his drinking on the clock. the anonymous tipper is actually cersei because she's mad that he won't let joffrey run for student council because he's gotten in trouble for bullying too much. when ned finds out about this cersei gets him fired too which makes arya mad so she makes jon teach her mma so she can beat up joffrey. catelyn gets so upset about ned getting fired that she convinces herself that tyrion was in on it bc he's cersei's sister despite the fact that cersei fully and actually hates his guts and tyrion wasn't even remotely involved because he was too busy trying to hide from jon's uncle benjen after he caught him trying to sell jon weed.

robb stark (low level admin position but everyone thinks he's just there bc nepotism which is actually sorta true) tries to get the rest of admin to band together to expose cersei but most of them don't give a fuck so he has to try and network with their longtime rival school to try and find allies. he also may or may not have introduced bran to the online furry community and he really really doesn't want ned or catelyn to find out. daenerys somehow manages to get a whole squad of jocks to basically be her personal bodyguards after she introduces them to wings of fire and they get hooked.

catelyn almost kicks jon out because she thinks he taught rickon to curse when actually rickon overheard sansa ranting about joffrey while on the phone with jeyne poole.

[baleriontheblackkitten]

A Game of Thrones - Eddard I

And so the king's court comes to Winterfell.

Ned knew many of the riders. There came Ser Jaime Lannister with hair as bright as beaten gold, and there Sandor Clegane with his terrible burned face. The tall boy beside him could only be the crown prince, and that stunted little man behind them was surely the Imp, Tyrion Lannister.

It's kind of funny re-reading this passage, but it makes sense that most Starks and Lannisters hardly know each other at all at this point. It's the first time visiting the North for many of these people. You really feel the sense of how distant Winterfell is from everywhere else - no one ever goes there from the South, and the Starks hardly leave it either. Ned and Robert haven't seen each other since Balon's rebellion.

Something's off about the timeline. In Cat's first chapter, Ned says, "It will be good to see the children. The youngest was still sucking at the Lannister woman’s teat the last time I saw him," and Cat states Tommen is seven years old. Now Ned muses that it's been nine years since he last saw Robert, at Balon's rebellion. Why would Ned see Cersei and baby Tommen without Robert? Considering the queen and the kids have been traveling on a giant wheelhouse that doesn't even fit the castle gate, trained by forty horses - I doubt Cersei is the kind of person who would travel much with an infant. Unless she'd be going to Casterly Rock to have baby Tommen meet his grandfather, but why would Ned go there?

I mean, it's doesn't matter. We're just in the exposition stage. The funniest in-story explanation is that Ned and Cat were just mixing up babies in their memories and it wasn't baby Tommen they saw but baby Myrcella, in that case the timeline would work since Myrcella would be of breastfeeding age nine years ago. I'll just accept that.

Anyway. Ned is taken aback by how much Robert has changed, no longer built like a warrior, but a fat man that smells of perfume instead of blood.

So many of Ned's memories are tied to the smell of blood. He remembers Robert as smelling of leather and blood, he remembers the room Lyanna died in as smelling of roses and blood. He's a man whose past is filled with the scent of blood, that he can still smell with his memory. It's easy to point the finger at Ned's mistakes, but this is a man traumatized to the seven hells and back who uses defensive mechanisms (like the rose-tinted glasses he looks at Robert through) that progressively crumble leaving him undefended.

(It's also interesting how wolves are often described as smelling blood, and the Starks who warg into wolves, Bran and Arya, often mention the smell of blood in their noses. Something about a circle of violence, blood spilled that calls for more blood and whose scent fills the nostrils of the younger generation.)

Speaking of Lyanna.

No sooner had those formalities of greeting been completed than the king had said to his host, “Take me down to your crypt, Eddard. I would pay my respects.” Ned loved him for that, for remembering her still after all these years. He called for a lantern. No other words were needed. The queen had begun to protest. They had been riding since dawn, everyone was tired and cold, surely they should refresh themselves first. The dead would wait. She had said no more than that; Robert had looked at her, and her twin brother Jaime had taken her quietly by the arm, and she had said no more.

The dead wolf girl will always matter more to Robert than his living wife, and it seems Cersei still minds that even after all these years. Jaime diffuses a potential nasty situation, which is a microcosm for Jaime's role in Robert and Cersei's marriage - keeping Cersei placated enough that the friction between her and Robert is reduced to a minimum. And yet it's not enough. (And pretty ironic, since Jaime's role in that marriage is both solving problems and creating bigger ones.)

"This king Ned scarcely recognized" Ned thinks of Robert, and that's the point, isn't it? Robert has changed physically, but he's still the same man he's always been. It's Ned that remembers him different - a better man than Robert has ever been - and will struggle with the realization.

“I was starting to think we would never reach Winterfell,” Robert complained as they descended. “In the south, the way they talk about my Seven Kingdoms, a man forgets that your part is as big as the other six combined.” “I trust you enjoyed the journey, Your Grace?” Robert snorted. “Bogs and forests and fields, and scarcely a decent inn north of the Neck. I’ve never seen such a vast emptiness. Where are all your people?” “Likely they were too shy to come out,” Ned jested. He could feel the chill coming up the stairs, a cold breath from deep within the earth. “Kings are a rare sight in the north.” Robert snorted. “More likely they were hiding under the snow. Snow, Ned!” The king put one hand on the wall to steady himself as they descended. “Late summer snows are common enough,” Ned said. “I hope they did not trouble you. They are usually mild.” “The Others take your mild snows,” Robert swore. “What will this place be like in winter? I shudder to think.” “The winters are hard,” Ned admitted. “But the Starks will endure. We always have.”

A very effective picture of the North in just a few lines! Although there's more to the North than the hard parts.

Robert's description of the South in summer is pretty poetic, I mean, if you ignore the misogyny in his description of women. Okay, it partly speaks of Robert's privilege as he can enjoy all the pleasures his land can offer. But I also think he's not that far from the truth when he says that everyone is "fat and drunk and rich". Obviously that's not true true, since peasants are still peasants and not rich, but the kingdom is enjoying a long period of peace and prosperity. They've been having a long summer. The only war since the Rebellion was fought in the Iron Islands, leaving the rest of the kingdom untouched. So Robert is, like, getting the right answer while using the wrong formula. Most people are not as weathy as he is, but there's good crops, food in abundance for everyone, and the economy of the kingdom is flourishing. Which makes it ever more heartbreaking when war breaks out and everything goes to hell. Winter is coming for the kingdom in horrific ways they don't realize yet.

It was always cold down here. Their footsteps rang off the stones and echoed in the vault overhead as they walked among the dead of House Stark. The Lords of Winterfell watched them pass. Their likenesses were carved into the stones that sealed the tombs. In long rows they sat, blind eyes staring out into eternal darkness, while great stone direwolves curled round their feet. The shifting shadows made the stone figures seem to stir as the living passed by. By ancient custom an iron longsword had been laid across the lap of each who had been Lord of Winterfell, to keep the vengeful spirits in their crypts. The oldest had long ago rusted away to nothing, leaving only a few red stains where the metal had rested on stone. Ned wondered if that meant those ghosts were free to roam the castle now. He hoped not. The first Lords of Winterfell had been men hard as the land they ruled. In the centuries before the Dragonlords came over the sea, they had sworn allegiance to no man, styling themselves the Kings in the North.

Actually, Ned, I think it's going to be a good thing that the ancient Kings of Winter are around. Just in case something passes by that the ancient Kings of Winter would be used to deal with. Just saying. I do wonder what will be the role of the dead in the crypts of Winterfell, but of one thing I'm sure: they won't be used as puppets by the Others. The ancient people of the North knew better than to leave their dead undefended. Like the Wall is inbued with defensive magic, I'm sure these tombs have a heavy dose of magic against the enemy. Maybe those swords were never supposed to protect the living from the dead in the crypts, but were supposed to be wielded by the "good" dead to protect the living from the "bad" dead, and in time that knowledge was lost.

Anyway, they are so very going to play a part, these ancient Starks whose eyes follow Ned and Robert as they pass. It's always meaningful when something that should not be sentient feels like it's watching. It usually means there is, in fact, something sentient watching. Maybe this is also [going to be] Bran, maybe not.

The crypt continued on into darkness ahead of them, but beyond this point the tombs were empty and unsealed; black holes waiting for their dead, waiting for him and his children. Ned did not like to think on that.

Something that seems creepy while they're alive - the tombs meant for them - turns out to be something desirable once they're dead. Ned's bones being prevented from reaching their supposed resting place, Robb's body defiled and desacrated, Cat's body (she might not be a Stark, but she becomes one during the war) being given a sacrilegious mockery of a Tully funeral - none of them can rest, they all haunt the kingdom and the narrative, in Cat's case she literally comes back to life as a revived corpse, but Ned and Robb also haunt the South. And of course, the absence of them in their place in Winterfell also creates a spiritual imbalance in Winterfell itself.

(Also, honestly, I find there's something sweet and comforting in the empty space in the marble of the family grave where my picture and name and the pictures and names of my loved ones will eventually be placed. It's inevitable that each of us will die, after all, and it's nice to know we'll be in the same place to rest together.)

The dead of House Stark will need to be put to rest before the end of the story. The fact that Ned's first chapter is set in the crypts... I see what you did there, George. Ned's journey will find its conclusion here.

There were three tombs, side by side. Lord Rickard Stark, Ned’s father, had a long, stern face. The stonemason had known him well. He sat with quiet dignity, stone fingers holding tight to the sword across his lap, but in life all swords had failed him. In two smaller sepulchres on either side were his children. Brandon had been twenty when he died, strangled by order of the Mad King Aerys Targaryen only a few short days before he was to wed Catelyn Tully of Riverrun. His father had been forced to watch him die. He was the true heir, the eldest, born to rule. Lyanna had only been sixteen, a child-woman of surpassing loveliness. Ned had loved her with all his heart. Robert had loved her even more. She was to have been his bride.

Both Ned and Robert had their lives uprooted by the deaths of the two Stark siblings. Ned took Brandon's place as Lord of Winterfell and as Catelyn's husband. Robert, well. Ironically he takes the place that was supposed to be Rhaegar's and marries the woman Rhaegar was supposed to marry originally. But Ned embraces his unexpected role and quickly grows to love his wife, Robert just despises the responsibilities of the throne and Cersei.

The fact that Ned was not supposed to rule Winterfell... It makes you wonder if this is ultimately the reason Ned is so unequipped to deal with the court and eventually loses the game of thrones. He was not raised to be Lord of Winterfell, he was raised to run some holdfast for his older brother (like he tells Bran he'll do for Robb - I see what you did there, George). Catelyn, on the other hand, was raised almost like a firstborn son for years since her father was afraid he'd never get a son. And it's Catelyn that almost makes it - she insist they hurry to eat under the Frey's roof, so that the rules of hospitality will keep them safe. She plays the game well... it's just that the other side breaks the rules of the game. You can't blame her for that.

Anyway, let's not get too ahead of ourselves. If "by ancient custom an iron longsword had been laid across the lap of each who had been Lord of Winterfell, to keep the vengeful spirits in their crypts" then it means that Brandon and Lyanna don't have one. Maybe Brandon was given one anyway, since he was meant to be Lord of Winterfell. But Lyanna surely hasn't been given a sword. I don't know if that means anything metaphysically, but metaphorically her ghost is haunting the two men visiting her grave for sure.

I love how Robert dislikes her resting place arrangement, unable to understand what it means to a Stark. Robert never understood anything about Lyanna, and I am convinced that it was her choice to go with Rhaegar instead of marrying Robert, that she purposely did it to avoid marrying Robert.

Speaking of Rhaegar... in the previous chapter, Dany thinks of Rhaegar's death as something Rhaegar did "for the woman he loved". Now Robert and Ned obviously think of Rhaegar's death as punishment for harming Lyanna... The truth is probably in the middle, alright. Rhaegar was not the perfect man Viserys has described him to Dany, but he was not the man Robert thinks of him.

Rhaegar is still a mystery we're given clues to here and there in the books. Personally I think his tragedy was the weight of prophecy on him - at some point he must have realized that the "ice and fire" part of "the song of ice and fire" did not refer to "our side (fire) and the enemy (ice)" but "Stark and Targaryen" (as in the "Pact of Ice and Fire" established during the Dance of the Dragons), which must have made him think of his marriage to ~more fire~ (a Martell i.e. the sun) the wrong choice, because the prince who was promised could not be fire+fire but fire+ice. And then he possibly met a Stark girl who was very determined to create her own path instead of marrying the man her father had promised her to... and the rest is history.

“In my dreams, I kill him every night,” Robert admitted. “A thousand deaths will still be less than he deserves.” There was nothing Ned could say to that.

Ned is fucking thinking about keeping a certain boy as far away from Robert's eyes as possible for the entirety of Robert's visit.

They start talking about Jon Arryn's death, which happened so fast and unexpectedly, not suspicious at all.

“Catelyn fears for her sister. How does Lysa bear her grief?” Robert’s mouth gave a bitter twist. “Not well, in truth,” he admitted. “I think losing Jon has driven the woman mad, Ned. She has taken the boy back to the Eyrie. Against my wishes. I had hoped to foster him with Tywin Lannister at Casterly Rock. Jon had no brothers, no other sons. Was I supposed to leave him to be raised by women?” Ned would sooner entrust a child to a pit viper than to Lord Tywin, but he left his doubts unspoken.

Ned is so funny.

(Also, Robert is so misogynistic, seven hells, why do you think the girl ran off with some other guy, Robert?)

“The boy is my namesake, did you know that? Robert Arryn. I am sworn to protect him. How can I do that if his mother steals him away?”

I have some thoughts about namesakes. Ned named his eldest ~sons~ after Robert and Jon Arryn, and only the youngest sons after his brother and father. His daughters are also given Stark names. That leads me to believe that Jon actually has been given a name by Lyanna, that Jon is just a cover Ned finds to make the baby believable as his son. Because the boy named after Robert dies, and the boy named after Jon Arryn... also dies. It seems only fitting that Jon is eventually reborn with a different name. The Stark children who have been given non-Stark names cannot survive, only the ones carrying Stark names can survive.

"But Marghe, Rickon has a Stark name and there's no way he survives the story," you might say. Okay, maybe it's not a universal truth for all Stark children and more of a "you doomed those two boys by naming him after your Rebellion companions" thing. Or maybe Rickon survives after all. Fingers crossed.

“I have more concern for my nephew’s welfare than I do for Lannister pride,” Ned declared. “That is because you do not sleep with a Lannister.” Robert laughed, the sound rattling among the tombs and bouncing from the vaulted ceiling.

Here it is, the crux of the troubles soon to happen. Robert's priority is preventing his wife from ~nagging at him, and that's going to get Sansa's direwolf dead, Sansa's trust in Ned broken, and everything that follows.

And then Robert gets to the reason he went to visit Ned in person. Gods, he is so selfish. He hates being king because it's annoying and tedious to him. He says he hates being surrounded by liars and flatterers and he wants someone who's gonna tell him the truth to his face - but he won't listen to Ned anyway, so. (Makes you really appreciate Stannis actually listening to Davos, uh. Damn it Robert, Stannis should have been your new Hand, you just didn't pick him because you find him annoying!) He knows that Ned will hate the job, but he wants him to do it regardless.

Robert groaned with good-humored impatience. “If I wanted to honor you, I’d let you retire. I am planning to make you run the kingdom and fight the wars while I eat and drink and wench myself into an early grave.” He slapped his gut and grinned. “You know the saying, about the king and his Hand?” Ned knew the saying. “What the king dreams,” he said, “the Hand builds.” “I bedded a fishmaid once who told me the lowborn have a choicer way to put it. The king eats, they say, and the Hand takes the shit.” He threw back his head and roared his laughter. The echoes rang through the darkness, and all around them the dead of Winterfell seemed to watch with cold and disapproving eyes.

Robert also complains Ned is too serious, to which Ned responds with his own brand of humor:

“They say it grows so cold up here in winter that a man’s laughter freezes in his throat and chokes him to death,” Ned said evenly. “Perhaps that is why the Starks have so little humor.”

Re-reading the chapter, Ned keeps joking, but it's a kind of deadpan humor Robert doesn't really get.

Now comes a bit that makes me go mmm.

“You helped me win this damnable throne, now help me hold it. We were meant to rule together. If Lyanna had lived, we should have been brothers, bound by blood as well as affection. Well, it is not too late. I have a son. You have a daughter. My Joff and your Sansa shall join our houses, as Lyanna and I might once have done.”

Did he really love Lyanna, or was he in love with the idea of becoming ~brothers~ with Ned? Did Ned possibly encourage their father to betroth Lyanna to Robert, blinded by the enthusiasm of becoming brothers with Robert, not realizing that Lyanna would not be happy with him at all, and inadvertantly sending everything to hell?

There's also another layer to this - Robert wanted to "rule together" with Ned. He basically wanted Ned to be his queen. Making him Hand of the King basically makes him his queen. (See also Davos as Stannis' truest queen.)

I think that Robert and Ned's affection (obsession? inability to see each other as they truly are but seeing a fictional version of each other instead?) for each other destroyed Lyanna first, and Sansa later.

For a moment Eddard Stark was filled with a terrible sense of foreboding. This was his place, here in the north. He looked at the stone figures all around them, breathed deep in the chill silence of the crypt. He could feel the eyes of the dead. They were all listening, he knew. And winter was coming.

So tragic when the characters themselves see the foreshadowing but cannot but walk to their doom anyway...

[polysucks]

Sandor Clegane and Jorah Mormont: Broken Men and the Paths to Redemption An analysis of how Sandor Clegane and Jorah Mormont’s treatment of Daenarys Stormborn and the Stark sisters reveals their overlapping sense of duty and morality

An Essay by Polysocial

Word count: 1,849 Time to read: 6 - 15 min CW for the usual asoiaf themes, the defense of Sandor Clegane and the depiction of Jorah Mormont as a fuckin groomer. Also the victimization of the underage women in ASOIAF. Also bad jokes. and I repeat myself alot. i have no beta im just a loser with a word processing program, a liberal american education, and too much time on my hands. You've been warned.

Sandor Clegane and Jorah Mormont are two men defined by their flaws, shaped by their circumstances, and searching for atonement for two extremely different reasons. Though their lives and choices are distinctly different, both wrestle with their own personal definitions of loyalty, self-worth, and the complexities of their relationships with the women they intend to protect. Their opposing paths shed quite a bit of light on the nuances of obligation, devotion, and the struggle to find meaning in a world that often seems devoid of it and the goreghe does an excellent job exploring the vast array of tones and shades in the beauty and the beast trope he is so evidently fond of.

Sandor Clegane: The Hound’s Bitter Sense of Duty

The Hound is a man defined by violence not only by his own design as a defense mechanism but also perpetuated by how he is treated before he even has a chance to open his mouth. From a young age, he was conditioned to believe his intrinsic value as a person lay in his ability to serve others through the only thing he knows holds worth in providing—brutality and violence. The Clegane family name, elevated to nobility through merciless service to the Lannisters, set the foundation for Sandor’s cynical worldview. His scars—both physical and emotional—are a demonstration of his brother Gregor’s cruelty and the dehumanizing system they are forced to exist in that values strength over compassion.

Though Sandor rejects the concept of honor (especially when it pertains to him), deeming it a hollow façade for the selfishness of the powerful (I mean, he’s got a point), his actions often contradict his words. His protectiveness toward Sansa and Arya Stark respectively and independently exposes a deeply buried and guarded sense of morality. He serves neither out of duty nor personal gain (It could be argued that he “kidnapped” Arya and took her to the Twins for personal gain, but I ain’t going there rn) but because he recognizes their vulnerability and sees in them a reflection of the innocence he never had the chance to love and cherish before it was ripped from him. This reluctant politesse, however, clashes with his belief in his own worthlessness, creating a tragic tension within his character.

Sandor’s relationship with Arya starkly demonstrates this complexity. Though he often threatens her with violence, his bark is worse than his bite [beat for applause]. His threats serve as a disguise, a way to maintain control and protect Arya in a dangerous world. The threats he does act on, however, such as knocking her unconscious during the Red Wedding, are harsh but motivated by a twisted sense of care. Sandor views himself as a necessary evil, someone who must act as a shield against greater horrors (one that was never offered to him), even if Arya herself resists his help. His dynamic with Arya mirrors his own self-perception: gruff and crude on the surface, but marked by an underlying love and genteel that he cannot fully suppress—no matter how hard he tries.

Jorah Mormont: Privilege and Self-Inflicted Exile

Jorah Mormont’s life is a stark contrast to Sandor’s [dodges tomatoes]. Born into privilege as the heir to Bear Island of the north, Jorah squandered the opportunities granted to him. His downfall—selling poachers into slavery to fund an extravagant lifestyle—was a choice born of greed and desperation, not necessity. Unlike Sandor, who was forced into servitude by circumstance, Jorah’s exile and subsequent loyalty to Daenerys Targaryen are the consequences of his own failures and choices he made with personal goals in mind.

At first, Jorah’s service to Daenerys is self-serving, a way to reclaim the honor he lost (it’s not even about his family name either like bro ur dad is so disappointed in you and here u go worshipping a fuckin pregnant teenager--). Yet as his love [crowd boos] for her grows, his devotion becomes what he considers selfless, albeit still flawed. His betrayal when he serves as a spy for King Robert emphasizes the infirmity of his moral compass. Jorah’s love [crowd starts waving pitchforks] for Daenerys is both his greatest strength and his greatest weakness, blinding him to the boundaries of their relationship and leading him to undermine her independence and strength in significant ways. Where Sandor sees himself as unworthy of redemption, Jorah clings to the hope that his obsession with displaying loyalty will earn him forgiveness and worthiness.

The Lens of Obsession: Jorah’s Idealization vs. Sandor’s Humanity

Okay hear me out another reason Jorah Mormont and Sandor Clegane are two sides of the same sword [Limp Bizkit – Break Stuff plays ominously from a JBL pill speaker in the crowd] in how they perceive and treat the women in their lives. Jorah’s devotion to Daenerys Targaryen is tinged with an unsettling obsession that often prioritizes her physical beauty over her strength and accomplishments. While Jorah admires Daenerys’s power, he punctuates his observations about her with a fixation on her body and appearance. He deifies her, placing her on a pedestal as though she is more goddess than human— this idealization showcases his incapability to see her as a whole person. (I mean, you could argue that he doesn’t see a single woman as a whole person. He talked mad shit about his wife who died in labor, and then his bitch wife who left him bc she didn’t like the north and bc he only liked her for her tits in the first place). His love for Daenerys, while (one can argue) is genuine, is also possessive, defined by his desire to be the one who protects and supports her—whether or not she wants or needs that from him.

Jorah’s fixation on Daenerys’s beauty exposes the imbalance in their dynamic. While she emerges as a formidable leader, determined to reclaim her birthright and liberate the oppressed (yas queen slay the masters go off), Jorah’s gaze often reduces her to an object of adoration and lust. This dynamic is further complicated by Daenerys’s repeated rejection of his advances. (I mean I can say a whole lot about dany’s sexuality and how she lets her most trusted hand maidens finger her to completion but wont return the Old Man’s advances. AS SHE SHOULD!!!!!! She deserves that. At least ur handmaidens love you girly. And they give a fuck about your pleasure, bc we all know Jorah would just hit it and quit it I bet he doesn’t even know women can have orgasms what a loser) She values him as an advisor and ally but does not reciprocate his romantic (AHEM! Sexual!) feelings. Jorah’s inability to fully accept this boundary leads to moments where his actions undercut her autonomy, as he seeks to align her decisions with his own desires.

In stark contrast (THIS IS MY TED TALK I WILL REPEAT PUNS IF I WANT!!!!), Sandor Clegane never idealizes or deifies Sansa or Arya Stark. He treats them as vulnerable young people in need of protection, not objects of desire or symbols of purity. Even when drunk and speaking bluntly about Sansa’s coming of age, Sandor’s observation is neither predatory nor obsessive.

“You look almost a woman… face, teats, and you’re taller, too, almost… ah, you’re still a stupid little bird, aren’t you?” – Sandor, ACOK: Sansa II

Sansa, from her own perspective, notes that Sandor’s demeanor, though rough, is not threatening. Despite his intimidating presence and harsh words, he is surprisingly gentle with her, displaying a rare restraint that compares dramatically with the violent world around them.

Sandor’s treatment of Sansa and Arya reflects a vital difference in how he views not only women, but the people around him. He sees them as human beings, shaped by their circumstances and vulnerabilities, rather than as ideals to be worshipped or possessed. For Sandor, Sansa represents innocence and a longing for the kindness he never experienced, while Arya embodies resilience and defiance. He respects their autonomy, even as he takes on the role of their protector. Unlike Jorah, who seeks validation and redemption through Daenerys’s love, Sandor does not expect gratitude or recognition from the Stark girls, nor does he ever once make that claim. His acts of protection stem from a sense of morality, not a need to earn their approval or affection.

Jorah’s idealization of Daenerys ultimately reflects his own insecurities and selfish desires. (UNHAND THE UNDERAGE GIRL!!!!) Sandor does not see himself as a hero, and he does not attempt to force his guidance upon the Stark girls. His loyalty is unspoken, and his protectiveness is practical rather than symbolic.

Ultimately, the difference lies in perspective: Jorah loves an idea of Daenerys that is inseparable from her beauty and his longing for her, while Sandor simply recognizes the humanity of Sansa and Arya. Where Jorah seeks to possess, Sandor seeks only to ensure survival.

Parallels: Redemption Through Relationships

Despite their differences, both men find paths to salvation through their relationships with Sansa, Arya, and Daenerys. For Sandor, protecting Sansa and Arya offers a chance to defy the cruelty of the world that shaped him. His actions reveal a taste of honor he claims to disdain, even as he refuses to believe in his own worth. For Jorah, serving Daenerys becomes a way to atone for his past mistakes, his love [Fred Durst is hyping the crowd up for my subsequent ass kicking] for her driving him to act in ways that he considers selfless, but are clear to the readers (though probably not to dany, as all we see of Jorah is from her perspective) is objectively self-serving.

Yet, their redemptive arcs are far from straightforward. Sandor’s rough treatment of Arya and his constant growling threats mask a reluctant kindness, while Jorah’s devotion to Daenerys often borders on possessiveness, revealing his inability to fully respect her independence. Both men are broken, their flaws and virtues intertwined, but their journeys show that even the most damaged individuals can find moments of greatness. (which if you have talked to me at alllllllll in dms you will know that this is like. My overarching opinion about this series and how the geurge depicts humanity through flawed characters as a moral and ethical grey area. There is no “good vs evil” there is no black and white thinking.)

Conclusion: The Trained Dog and the Devoted Bear

Sandor Clegane and Jorah Mormont embody the complexity of loyalty and redemption in a world rife with moral ambiguity. Sandor, the trained dog, snarls and snaps but ultimately protects those he cares for, his actions speaking louder than his words. Jorah, the devoted bear, offers his unwavering loyalty to Daenerys, though his love often blinds him to the ways he undermines her autonomy. Both men, shaped by their pasts, find meaning and redemption through their relationships, even if those opportunities remain incomplete. In the end, their stories remind us that even in the darkest corners of the human soul, there is a capacity for change and a longing for something better.

[nogoodsheepstealing-greatgrandma]

Oh I am so down for this discussion but damn this is going to be a long one! I'm sorry though I've got to say, while I find Sansa Stans irritating and I despise Dany Antis, I really don’t understand these kinds of readings of Sansa. I feel as though the baggage of the fandom wars and the show weighs over most of it, which is frustrating for me as someone who loves Daenerys, Sansa and Arya and would love to gush over each of their stories without having to compensate for all the baggage. (not directed at you, sorry, just a general thing I find in fandom)

First off, Sansa does introspect, think, connect dots and proactively try to figure things out. I could list every moment that she does, but I’m already dangerously procrastinating a thesis here (what am I doing with my life) and this post gives a decent overview. Sansa is very intelligent considering her age and situation when she is given the opportunity, and her story has been a lot about her growth in intelligence. She is introduced to us as a naïve bratty tween, but she grows. Again, she isn’t growing into a leader like Dany or Jon, and I make no claims that she is the most intelligent or empathetic. If GRRM was actually writing a competition, sure Dany would win. And Arya is definitely more insightful and open-minded at a much younger age, though I do take her struggle to fit in as a contributing factor here (though I have to stress, considering contributing factors does not equate to downplaying Arya’s intelligence – which needs a whole post of its own to gush over).

Arya is an outsider, and gets an outsiders perspective that better enables her to empathise with outsiders. Sansa is relatively privileged compared to Arya because she is able to fit in to what society expects of her, which gives her less cause to question it until she is given a very harsh reality check (similar to Catelyn, who only really starts to question the patriarchal logic of society a tiny tiny wee bit once she loses authority to her teenaged son). And even then Sansa's bubble remains confined to the nobility. Which is a useful political skill – not to go down the ‘save the world with soft power and lemon cakes’ route but there is power in being able to navigate and exploit the sympathies and interests of a court – it is certainly one of the ways that Petyr accumulates power. In an ideal world, I can see it complimenting Arya’s vast emotional intelligence and ability to bond with the smallfolk. Ned was likely foreshadowing something here:

You may be as different as the sun and the moon, but the same blood flows through both your hearts. You need her, as she needs you…" 

Second, I don’t agree that the books are in favour of children in positions of power – more they explore the tragedy of it. Robb is a capable commander who does the best he can, but he makes mistakes because he is only a boy. Jon and Daenerys both display exceptional intellect and leadership skills and leave so many adults in the dust – but they make mistakes. And they deserve the right to be children, but the adults and circumstances around them let them down. Jon should have been able to be a child in winterfell with his siblings, not packed off to the Wall to appease Catelyn and forced to deal with the likes of Alliser Thorne and Bowen Marsh. Daenerys should have been able to have her house with the red door and be protected, not sold as a child bride and then have to put up with pedophiles and slavers. They rise to the occasion, but it isn’t right, it wears them down, and that’s the point.

And they are again exceptional cases – a world that crowns and marries children leads to a world where Joffrey sits the throne, where adults pass any decree they want by having baby Tommen play with the royal seal like a toy, where Sansa gets married to Tyrion, where Dany gets married to Drogo, where Arya wearing the bolton sigil could get her killed, where Podrick gets sentenced to death by Lady Stoneheart. Boys get murdered as child soldiers and girls get raped and die young in childbirth. The violence of this world against children who are failed by adults is the point.

So with that in mind, I will view Sansa through the lens that she is 12, in the tweenage hell years, and place no higher expectations on her. If you wish to view her as an adult, go nuts I guess. Personally one of the many things I love about GRRM's writing is his ability to write exceptionally realistic child characters and allows them to be as frustrating and even unlikeable as real children are. Kids can be gullible and bratty and mean-spirited and selfish and at the same time they are also empathetic and mature and insightful and brave. Kids, and people, are contradictory messes and GRRM writes them well.

Thirdly, see Ned utterly failing to make the danger they are in clear.

"Syrio says we have time for one last lesson before we take ship this evening," she said. "Can I, Father? All my things are packed."

"A short lesson, and make certain you leave yourself time to bathe and change. I want you ready to leave by midday, is that understood?"

"By midday," Arya said.

Sansa looked up from her food. "If she can have a dancing lesson, why won't you let me say farewell to Prince Joffrey?"

"I would gladly go with her, Lord Eddard," Septa Mordane offered. "There would be no question of her missing the ship."

"It would not be wise for you to go to Joffrey right now, Sansa. I'm sorry."

Sansa's eyes filled with tears. "But why?"

"Sansa, your lord father knows best," Septa Mordane said. "You are not to question his decisions."

If Arya has time for a dancing lesson, it can’t be that urgent. If Septa Mordane is offering to take her to say goodbye to Joffrey, it can’t be that urgent. Ned never explicitly tells Arya or Sansa or the ADULT woman he has charged with looking after them that they are in danger from the Lannisters. ‘It would not be wise’ is not the same as saying ‘we are at war and they will kill us’. Sansa is simply told that it is not her place to question her father, and she isn’t given a straight answer.

Fourth, you’ve pointed out the context that should have given her a hint, but the 12-year-old isn’t seeing the context as clearly as you the reader are. She doesn’t know that there is a war brewing between her father and the royal family. After all, it was the Kingslayer who attacked her father and his men. Everyone knows how Evil and Treacherous the Kingslayer is. But The Queen is Married to The King who is friends with Father, and Father is Good and of course the Royal Family is Good and we must be Loyal. It’s easier to imagine the end of the world than it is to imagine the end of capitalism the monarchy/patriarchy.

Yes, Sansa is witness to Cersei ordering Lady dead, to Joffrey wounding Mycah and to Joffrey being Joffrey. But it takes months until Ned tells her ‘this match with Joffrey was a terrible mistake’. It’s not as though he turns around and takes them home then and there. The world that Sansa has been raised to believe in moves on, and Sansa must move on with it. She’s been taught all her life that the highest goal and means of happiness she can attain is to marry a prince and that she will leave her family behind to join his – it is a normal reaction to make excuses for your perceived reality rather than to question your reality when you still have to live in that reality. But the grief and fear has to go somewhere and it goes to poor Arya – the world must be working as expected and it would have done if she didn’t ruin it. It’s easier to lash out at your little sister than it is to imagine the end of capitalism the monarchy/patriarchy.

Again, what kind of book do you think GRRM is writing? One where we’re just reading the point of view of a self-interested brat, or one where we’re reading the point of view of a child who clings to her reality as it comes crashing down until she can no longer deny it? Which is more interesting? Why would GRRM write such a boring character as one of his main POVs?

As for the situation with Maester Coleman, I think if he did put his foot down and override a 12-year-old (a very easy thing to do) and explicitly say ‘any more of this will kill him’, then Sansa probably would defer to his professional opinion! Just hang-wringing and easily relenting (against a 12-year-old…) doesn’t get the urgency across. ‘It does not leave the flesh’ doesn’t mean anything to a 12-year-old with no medical education. It is not obvious that ‘it does not leave the flesh’ means it is damaging to his health (the fact that we're even debating this kind of proves that its not obvious). Heck without any elaboration he could be saying it will make Robert put on weight. Arya is the one we see being given an education on medicines and poisons, not Sansa. Yes Littlefinger has used rapidly-killing poison before that Sansa is aware of - but that's not the same as being able to twig that the Maester is being slowly pressured into misusing medicine. As for Coleman’s competency, the other Vale lords describe him as less experienced and suggest one of their own maesters would provide better care for Robin.

Also, you are the reader, you have followed Littlefinger’s plots from a reader’s perspective, you have information from other POVs, you are also not 12. You can connect dots that Sansa can’t.

Now why does Sansa trust Petyr Baelish? Short answer: grooming. Remember how long it took till Dany sent Jorah away, what it took for her to finally do so, how she still misses him and hears his voice? Why, after all she knows he did? Could it be that he is the only parental figure she’s had since Willem Darry and she’s had a lifetime of being abused by Viserys and never had anyone protecting her? Could it be that she’s just kid and she’s vulnerable? A child who does not have all the information and context you have, and can’t put the book down and walk away from the situation she is stuck in. She also doesn’t get to absorb the information from the comfort of someone reading a book – she has fear and confusion and trauma to contend with. And we can see she has dealt with trauma by re-writing memories before - like the way she misremembers the night Sandor almost raped and murdered her. GRRM has said in interviews that the 'unkiss' and Sansa's faulty memory will be important.

"You will see, in A STORM OF SWORDS and later volumes, that Sansa remembers the Hound kissing her the night he came to her bedroom... but if you look at the scene, he never does. That will eventually mean something, but just now it's a subtle touch, something most of the readers may not even pick up on"

And Sansa does still think introspectively and critically with regards to Littlefinger! But trauma affects our ability to recollect, and she has an adult who is grooming her to be dependent on him, who is manipulating her into complicity, who creates uncertainty and then offers a reassuring illusion of safety if she throws in her lot with him:

"My lord, if . . . if Marillion tells what truly . . ."

"If he lies, you mean?"

"Lies? Yes . . . if he lies, if it is my tale against his, and Lord Nestor looks in my eyes and sees how scared I am . . ."

"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.

This is very clearly a scared kid being manipulated. Also what a creep.

Robert is only a sick little boy, she thought, Lord Nestor is a man grown, stern and suspicious. Robert was not strong and had to be protected, even from the truth. "Some lies are love," Petyr had assured her. She reminded him of that. "When we lied to Lord Robert, that was just to spare him," she said.

"And this lie may spare us. Else you and I must leave the Eyrie by the same door Lysa used." Petyr picked up his quill again. "We shall serve him lies and Arbor gold, and he'll drink them down and ask for more, I promise you."

See the threat here? See how Littlefinger reminds Sansa that her survival is tied to her backing him up, how he grooms her into lying?

He is serving me lies as well, Sansa realized. They were comforting lies, though, and she thought them kindly meant. A lie is not so bad if it is kindly meant. If only she believed them . . .

The things her aunt had said just before she fell still troubled Sansa greatly. "Ravings," Petyr called them. "My wife was mad, you saw that for yourself." And so she had. All I did was build a snow castle, and she meant to push me out the Moon Door. Petyr saved me. He loved my mother well, and...

And her? How could she doubt it? He had saved her.

And he puts her into a situation where she has to feel grateful, and she accepts it, because the alternative is to accept the terrifying reality that she is in the hands of a monster with no way out.

He saved Alayne, his daughter, a voice within her whispered. But she was Sansa too . . . and sometimes it seemed to her that the Lord Protector was two people as well. He was Petyr, her protector, warm and funny and gentle . . . but he was also Littlefinger, the lord she'd known at King's Landing, smiling slyly and stroking his beard as he whispered in Queen Cersei's ear. And Littlefinger was no friend of hers. When Joff had her beaten, the Imp defended her, not Littlefinger. When the mob sought to rape her, the Hound carried her to safety, not Littlefinger. When the Lannisters wed her to Tyrion against her will, Ser Garlan the Gallant gave her comfort, not Littlefinger. Littlefinger never lifted so much as his little finger for her.

Except to get me out. He did that for me. I thought it was Ser Dontos, my poor old drunken Florian, but it was Petyr all the while. Littlefinger was only a mask he had to wear. Only sometimes Sansa found it hard to tell where the man ended and the mask began. Littlefinger and Lord Petyr looked so very much alike. She would have fled them both, perhaps, but there was nowhere for her to go. Winterfell was burned and desolate, Bran and Rickon dead and cold. Robb had been betrayed and murdered at the Twins, along with their lady mother. Tyrion had been put to death for killing Joffrey, and if she ever returned to King's Landing the queen would have her head as well. The aunt she'd hoped would keep her safe had tried to murder her instead. Her uncle Edmure was a captive of the Freys, while her great-uncle the Blackfish was under siege at Riverrun. I have no place but here, Sansa thought miserably, and no true friend but Petyr.

This is a kid who is trapped, who is comforting herself with lies out of fear. She is being introspective, but her access to information and ability to process is limited by manipulation and trauma.

That night the dead man sang "The Day They Hanged Black Robin," "The Mother's Tears," and "The Rains of Castamere." Then he stopped for a while, but just as Sansa began to drift off he started to play again. He sang "Six Sorrows," "Fallen Leaves," and "Alysanne." Such sad songs, she thought. When she closed her eyes she could see him in his sky cell, huddled in a corner away from the cold black sky, crouched beneath a fur with his woodharp cradled against his chest. I must not pity him, she told herself. He was vain and cruel, and soon he will be dead. She could not save him. And why should she want to? Marillion tried to rape her, and Petyr had saved her life not once but twice. Some lies you have to tell. Lies had been all that kept her alive in King's Landing. If she had not lied to Joffrey, his Kingsguard would have beat her bloody.

Ah, look how she kindly lies to herself Robert.

That was a lie, though kindly meant. The only woman Petyr ever loved was Sansa's murdered mother. He had confessed as much to Lady Lysa just before he pushed her out the Moon Door. She was mad and dangerous. She murdered her own lord husband, and would have murdered me if Petyr had not come along to save me.

Robert did not need to know that, though. He was only a sick little boy who'd loved his mother.

Lying is a survival mechanism.

You are Alayne, and you must be Alayne all the time." He put two fingers on her left breast. "Even here. In your heart. Can you do that? Can you be my daughter in your heart?"

"I . . ." I do not know, my lord, she almost said, but that was not what he wanted to hear. Lies and Arbor gold, she thought. "I am Alayne, Father. Who else would I be?"

Lord Littlefinger kissed her cheek. "With my wits and Cat's beauty, the world will be yours, sweetling. Now off to bed."

Telling a kid how special they are is grooming 101. You can either see this as leading to a tragedy where Sansa never escapes Littlefinger, or escapes but becomes like him in the process, or she defeats him. But either way it is very clear that GRRM is writing a tale of a child being groomed. Or he is being very boring and writing a story about a dumb dumb or selfish murder-child and all this is just for page-wasting decoration.

Also caring for Robert the Lord isn’t necessarily the same as not caring for Robert the boy. Of course, caring for Robert the boy should come first, but this is a fucked up world where caring for politics over children is the norm, and Sansa isn’t immune to it. No one is. Catelyn says she should have sent Robb home from the war since he is still a minor and assume the regency as Ned had wanted until he’s old enough – but she knows she can’t because then the lords will never respect Robb again:

She saw anger in his eyes at that, but it was gone as quick as it came, and suddenly he was a boy again. "I know," he said, abashed. "Are you … are you sending me back to Winterfell?" Catelyn sighed. "I should. You ought never have left. Yet I dare not, not now. You have come too far. Someday these lords will look to you as their liege. If I pack you off now, like a child being sent to bed without his supper, they will remember, and laugh about it in their cups. The day will come when you need them to respect you, even fear you a little. Laughter is poison to fear. I will not do that to you, much as I might wish to keep you safe." "You have my thanks, Mother," he said, his relief obvious beneath the formality.

This isn’t a world that puts the wellbeing of children as children first. True I doubt Littlefinger gives Sansa these instructions out of care for Robert's long-term interests - but Sansa doesn't know that. And her alternative is risking Robert having a shaking fit and falling off the mountain, which is generally considered bad for your health. And just because Sansa is sometimes rude about Robert (guess what, she’s still a tween, and being a child-parent to a kid who keeps trying to breastfeed doesn’t always bring out the best in people) doesn’t mean she doesn’t care for his wellbeing. ‘If the gods are good and he lives’ isn’t the thought of someone who doesn’t care.

As for the maester trying to tell Sansa that it’s the feasts/events that are causing seizures… what is she meant to do about it? Sansa doesn’t control Littlefinger. Just because Littlefinger is giving her the illusion of authority and saying ‘you tell the maester I said this while I’m gone like a good girl’ doesn’t mean she has the power to override him.  

I would also add that in a world with medieval medicine and medieval child mortality rates even among the nobility – ‘when Robert dies’ isn’t quite the red flag it is in our world. Everyone in the Vale calls Harry the Heir. Some might be suspicious, but not many will question it if LR dies young. If LR does die, I think all the context will hit Sansa like a brick and she will start to make the connections. Maybe, hopefully, she’ll start to make the connections early enough to save LR’s life. Or maybe, insidiously, Littlefinger has manipulated her into such complicity that she’s too scared to sound the alarm and ask for help, because what experience does she have of adults helping her anyway? Ever since her father died, her experience has been of adults using and failing her. The most responsible an adult has been was Tyrion when he graciously agreed not to rape his child bride. She’s the perfect victim for grooming, and the deeper she gets pulled in the harder it is to get out. Heck, maybe Harry will be a way out! Maybe TWOW will see Sansa starting to get allies on her own terms, from Harry to Myranda Royce to Mya Stone. Or maybe it will be a very dark and tragic story where she doesn’t escape, maybe it will be an anti-hero or even villain origin story. But it will be, undoubtedly, a story of a child being groomed. To be clear, not the story of the most suffering female character to ever suffer, I'm not going that far. But cut this poor kid some slack.

If Sansa is hoping that SR is going to live long enough to marry, why is Sansa trying to marry Harry? Why are humans illogical and inconsistent and flawed? Why do we lie to ourselves and hope for the best and avoid hard truths? Why do we play along when we are trapped in situations with no way out? Why are children vulnerable to grooming? Is it because they’re selfish?

Either you can read Sansa as incredibly dense or incredibly selfish. Or you can read her as a kid being groomed who acts like a kid, and hopefully has a chance.

At the risk of sounding extremely cliché in a Book Sansa post:

All color had fled the world outside. It was a place of whites and blacks and greys. White towers and white snow and white statues, black shadows and black trees, the dark grey sky above. A pure world, Sansa thought. I do not belong here. Yet she stepped out all the same.

@nogoodsheepstealing-greatgrandma 

I didn’t want to derail or hijack your Dany post, so decided to make a separate post to what I think is an interesting discussion. 

Keep reading

[writeshite]

Puppy Love

Summary:

“One would think you’ve become besotten with me, Lord Stark,” you quip, circling each other at a slow pace. “I would agree.” His arm moves up, and you meet it, wrists side by side, “dragons are a rare sight in the North; anyone would be enamored.” You chuckle, “I should say the same; wolves are equally as captivating."

Pairings:

Robb Stark x Male Reader

Tags:

Targaryen Reader | Fluff | Smitten Robb Stark

Words: 2122

Author's Note:

I have not actually watched the show or read the books fully 👉🏾👈🏾 I know things, but most of my knowledge is sporadic and random; it'll be like 60% accurate, I think....in my defense, I want dragons, and I also want Robb Stark, so like what else am I supposed to do 💀. Also, sorry if the High Valyrian in here is shit; I'm very behind in my Duolingo course.

“The dragons have taken back the Iron Throne.”

Robb didn’t quite know how to react to the news; his battle had been for the North, and the workings of the other kingdoms and their squabbles had never immensely mattered to him as much as he knew they should. The ball had been his mother’s suggestion, correction insistence, “As king, you should set an example and get ahead of the other kingdoms.” 

The Targarayens arrive on dragon back - each on a separate one - the beasts shake the ground when they land, thunderous roars echoing into the skies. Her Majesty, Daenerys Targaryen, is poised, expression calm as she descends her dragon; another figure follows behind her - the Queen's Hand Missandei - the other dragon rider, steals more of Robb’s attention. Expression perhaps more joyful, you appear rather ill-equipped for the weather, furs less than satisfactory in Robb’s opinion. Your attire appears snow-touched, with little color - a touch of red on the collar of your coat - and dragon detailing on the lapels. Your silver locks are platted back in a simplistic rider’s style, held together by an intricate golden band.

Your company trails behind, arriving just moments later. Robb is accompanied by his mother, Sansa, and Arya, the latter of the three stares in awe at the dragons. Robb picks up a bit of conversation as you approach them, dying down when you come to stand in front of them; the words are of another tongue - High Valyrian, he thinks. “Your grace,” he greets, “welcome to Winterfell.”

“Thank you, Lord Stark,” she gestured to one side, “you know of my wife and hand, Missandei,” Robb nods, and she gestures to you, “and my cousin.” 

“A pleasure,” you greet him.

Robb had yet to follow etiquette, and in the spirit of that, he responds to your greeting and awaiting handshake with a kiss - placed on the back of your hand. Your skin trembles in the cold, cool to the touch; he rubs his thumb along it in an effort to create some heat. The purple of your eyes was entrancing, deep pools that drew his gaze easily. His mother’s cough draws him back; her disapproving and mildly irritated glance is counteracted by Sansa and Arya’s amused ones. The servants lead you to your temporary quarters, and Robb’s linger on your retreating form; his mother’s lecture drifts elsewhere in his mind, barely settling before it’s tossed aside by the glee of seeing you once more at the welcoming banquet.

Winterfell was colder than you expected. 

The invitation had seen no hurried response - with the rebuilding of King’s Landing, a new Dragon’s Pit, and many other matters - coming to Winterfell had primarily been driven by the need for a break. You rode on Morghon, Daenerys, and Missandei rode on Drogon, with Rhaegal and Viserion following and a company of Dothraki followed from the ground. The cool weather had been the first thing you’d noted, the second being the admittedly attractive King in the North. He donned a thick fur cape overtop his attire, a ringlet crown surmounted by iron spikes, and three wolves at the central front.

“Dubāzma,” you shrug at Daenerys’ warning tone; you hadn’t done anything; you simply glanced at the man.

You counter such, “Eman gaomagon daorun, ivestragon zirȳla Missandei.” 

Missandei shakes her head, amusement in her tone, “Iā bughegon isse suvion iēdar kostilus,” she jests.

You shake your head, and the conversation breaks off as Lord Stark welcomes you to Winterfell. Daenerys responds with light introductions for both Missandei, then you.

“A pleasure,” you say once introduced, hand held out, ready for a handshake. Lord Stark does something far different. Taking your hand, he turns it over and lays a peck on the back of it, causing Lady Stark’s eyes to grow wide in surprise and his sisters’ expressions to morph into grins.

“The pleasure is all mine,” he replies, eyes locked on yours as he does so. His hand remains with yours for seconds longer, thumb caressing the skin, and when her ladyship breaks the brief haze with a cough, he leaves behind a phantom warmth.

The temporary chambers are cozy, readily warm, and stocked with furs; you set your luggage by the bed and don’t dwell too long on them - furs, a bed, fire, and comfort - as the welcome banquet requires far more attention. You replace your traveling coat with one more suitable for festivities - dark with gold embroidery and light fur trimming on the bottom. You exit the room to find Lord Stark’s figure leaning against the wall opposite, and a smile lights his face at the sight of you.

“Have you come to escort me, Lord Stark?” you inquire.

“If you’d allow it,” he responds with a hint of hope. You chuckle and nod, drawing out a broader smile on his face. The hall is not as far off as you’d imagined; light chatter filters through the open doors as people mill into the open-spaced hall. Far from the entrance sits a horizontally set long table - the Starks on the right, Taragrayens on the left - the other tables line the sides, leaving the middle empty. 

“Lord Robb of House Stark, King in the North, Lord of Winterfell…” the announcer declares, drawing attention to you both; he announces you next, “...of House Targaryen….” It had been your idea to drop your name of Velaryon, “...Dragonheart of Old Valyria, and Prince of The Ashes.” The latter of the titles stood more as a slight mockery, with your old life on the remnants of Old Valyria, those that had spotted you and Morghon had called you that in whispers.

You take the two remaining seats at the long table, Robb near the center, you near the edge, close to Missandei. The food is wonderful; meats, deserts, ale, and various Northern delicacies are brought to the tables - the honeyed chicken may well become one of your new favorites. People begin to mingle after the main courses as music fills the halls in steady beats; you follow suit at Lord Stark’s request to dance. 

“One would think you’ve become besotten with me, Lord Stark,” you quip, circling each other at a slow pace.

“I would agree.” His arm moves up, and you meet it, wrists side by side, “dragons are a rare sight in the North; anyone would be enamored.”

You chuckle, “I would say the same; wolves are equally as captivating,” your arms turn, both palms now against the other; he laces his fingers with yours, a cheeky grin on his face. You turn to circle in the opposite direction, the crowd around you filtering out as you remain fixated on each other. You draw back, hands still intertwined; coming back again, he places his other hand on your shoulder as yours goes to his hip. A few paces and you should separate from the other, turn to another person and carry on the dance, but you don’t, remaining in each other’s grasp as you drift across the floor. 

The music changes and a joyful beat begins; the formality is lost as the crowd of dancers switches to more upbeat and expressive movements. Lord Stark tugs at your arm, head tilting towards the doors; you turn briefly to glance at the long table - Lady Arya is immersed in conversation with Daenerys; Missandei and Lady Sansa are the same; Lady Stark herself, however, appears to have swallowed a lemon, eyes glaring daggers at his Lordship. You return your attention to said man and allow him to drag you away from the hall.

Robb hadn’t paid much attention to his mother’s lecture; her words went in one ear and out the other; she wasn’t angry, not truly, merely cautious. The interest seemed mutual to some extent, though the matter of marital affairs would be complicated - gods know the Lords of Westeros would turn their noses high in disgust - his almost engagements had all fallen through when he’d paid them little mind. 

“Robb Stark!” His mother’s voice cuts through his thoughts, “I understand your attraction circumvents what the realm would regard as suitable, but that is no excuse, do not trifle with him; we don’t need them setting our lands ablaze.” 

“You’ve outdone yourself this time,” Sansa comments after their mother leaves. 

Robb purses his lips; a wise man would take the words to heart and cease whatever he was doing - even if this interaction bore positive fruit, there was no certainty it would be in the best interest of the North. Her Majesty could have him abdicate his throne in favor of moving into the Targarayen household, or she could disapprove of him and feed him to her dragons. Robb was a man of heart, the kind that intercepted the servant at your chambers and took it upon himself to escort you personally to the dining halls.

Your previous coat has been replaced by a darker one; golden dragon heads decorate the cuffs, and it sits tighter on your person, with the fur trimming at the bottom fluttering delicately as you walk. “Have you come to escort me, Lord Stark?”

“If you’d allow it,” he responds, and gods, he hopes you would. He feels himself smile wider at your agreement, arm threaded with yours; the short walk to the dining halls leaves him ecstatic.

“Lord Robb of House Stark, King in the North, Lord of Winterfell…” the declaration echoes in the hall; brief glances become more fixated on your intertwined arms. His mother’s eyes squint, a frown on her face, “...of House Targaryen, Dragonheart of Old Valyria, and Prince of The Ashes.” 

Robb thanks the gods; his mother’s seat is further from him; if looks could kill, he’s certain he’d have died at the entrance. “You’ve taken to my cousin quite quickly, Lord Stark,” Her Majesty’s voice draws his attention.

Her gaze is steady as she regards him, “I suppose, your grace, is that a problem?” 

It’s no secret that certain parts of Westeros and their rulers disapprove of other attractions; Robb’s not quite sure where his father would have stood on the matter - he imagines him supportive - he knows his mother prefers he be less expressive on the subject. Queen Daenerys had been quite clear on her stance, disregarding the disapproval of her new laws and marriage, though that’s not to say she would like to have him as her in-law.

“Not as long as he is happy, and well,” she answers, “I have little family left; I cannot help my worry.”

There is an underlying threat to her words, and Robb nods in understanding, and it satisfies her enough to turn away from him. The food is brought in just after - honeyed chicken, venison pies, cod cakes, ale, candied bread - the music begins near the tail end of the feast. Some sway to the tune, conversations carrying in the air, as the music changes to something more befitting a dance. He stands and moves down the long table towards you, “Care for a dance?”

“One would think you’ve become besotten with me, Lord Stark,” you quip. 

“I would agree; dragons are a rare sight in the North; anyone would be enamored.” Your arms meet in the middle, level to your heads, as you circle each other; even as the other dancers switch partners, you remain together. Up until the music changes and a less formal tune carries in the air, you follow suit, hand in Robb’s as he drags you from the hall. You stroll idly through the halls, hands held together and swung lowly and sharing idle chatter.

“What do you call your dragon?”

“Morghon,” you respond, “it means death, a fitting name. Would you like to see him?” Robb pursed his lips, and you chuckled at his hesitation, “Don’t tell me you’re scared of dragons,” you teased; coming to a halt, you tugged him closer, “certainly not after flirting with one.”

He can feel the heat creep up his neck and imagines his skin pinker at the moment, “What if he bites?”

“He won’t,” your graze drifts a little lower, “but I could.”

“Is that an invitation to your bed, my prince?”

“If you’d like, you could show me how warm the North could be. I’m sure a few hours of demonstration should suffice.”

“The demonstration will have to wait for another time, your grace,” his mother’s voice cuts in. You both jump apart, hands loosely held together; she grabs Robb by the arm, “I apologize for the interruption, your grace, but we have some familial matters to attend to.” His face pinches into a frown as his mother leads him away; he remains turned enough to send you a brief wave and a smile and is thrilled to see you return it.

End Note:

Hope you enjoyed this mess. Stay hydrated.