#it takes a VERY long time for bran’s story to feel like it has weight within the universe

[woahjo]

everyone is fighting wars and shit and then bran is on some mystical journey and chatting with a man in a tree LOL

joke’s aside, i like bran’s story a lot. it’s super connected to the lore of the GOT universe and that makes it interesting, plus, i care about him as a character (gotta love the starks). all that being said, i think where it falls short is that it can feel SO disconnected from what everyone else is doing. i mean ofc he’s connected (three eyed raven and all that), but his journey feels very independent to sansa or arya or jon’s journey. he encounters comparatively fewer characters in the story, so we kind of lose that really cool sense of “everything is connected” for a while.

his personal journey is interesting for sure and learning about the magic present in the north through him is a good way to introduce the history of the godswood and magic and stuff, but there’s a distinctive lack of the “game of thrones”, if that makes sense. in fact, i’d argue that he’s the only stark who isn’t obviously playing it for the majority of the show (this isn’t to say that it isn’t revealed in the later seasons that he IS), which disconnects him almost entirely from the main narrative.

bran makes his journey north, becomes a greenseer, and manipulates the past to preserve himself (and his family), but his story feels largely disconnected from the main arc until he discovers the truth about jon snow’s parentage (among a few other things).

all this being said, i’m only at the end of season 4 of my rewatch, but this is just what i’m noticing about it the second time around after many years. and i DO remember liking the payoff of realizing bran has had a hand in his own fate (and the fates of those around him) the entire time, so i’m not knocking that (and maybe i’ll change my mind when i see it again). i can appreciate the build of suspense as he makes his journey north and then the satisfaction of finally understanding the specifics of what has happened.

anyway, all this to say that i think what i feel is missing in bran’s story, at least through the middle, is the sense of interconnectivity the character’s actions tend to have. the whole series has this “butterfly effect” sense to it through practical means, but bran’s actions throughout the beginning of the story and on his journey seem to happen largely within a vacuum (when compared to the other characters). it isn’t until there is an ACTUAL butterfly effect that we begin to feel just how interconnected bran is to the rest of the story, which has great payoff but can kind make you furrow your brow when we see his group trudging through the snow again towards the middle of the series (to me, even the bolton’s going after him felt super disconnected for some reason lol).

anyway those are my two cents on this very very old subject even though no one asked. take it with a grain of salt though, i’ve forgotten a LOT of the main series since i haven’t watched the show all the way through since the finale aired on cable haha

[c-sand]

Not to be dramatic, but Sansa is full of forgiveness and mercy and kindness in a world where she’s been given every possible reason about why she shouldn’t be -- and she really didn’t need a moment from Jon disrespecting her (and only her -- everyone else is allowed to speak) during a meeting to, like, ‘teach her a lesson’ about leniency and save her from the ‘evil heartless creature’ she’d become after all of her time with the Lannisters and Petyrfinger. 

It’s true that they need every man possible in the upcoming war -- a war that Sansa doesn’t disbelieve at any second, she’s fully on board with what Jon has said is coming and she does every possible thing she’s capable of to help prepare for it. But, it’s also true that these Houses literally just slaughtered their family and fought a war against them, in an attempt to annihilate them from the planet. And it’s a valid thought process, that literally every Northerner in the room also agreed with -- not just her (despite the fact that she’s the only one spoken down to about it), that it’s not something that should just be swept under the rug.

You can’t expect someone to just be on board with you and immediately back you up on everything, if you don’t speak to them about it beforehand. Sansa spends almost all of her time, upon reuniting with Jon and being with him from that moment on, being on his side. Believing him about what he says is coming and knowing they have long fights ahead of them. She appears to not even question his return back to the living?? Despite the fact that she’s the one Stark not spending her entire story dealing with magical mysteries, she’s just like “Yeah, Jon was abracadabra’d back into existence.”

He says the dead are coming, she just believes him. 

The only times that she’s not immediately behind his back are on situations she has the better understanding of (something that is allowed to be true, despite the fact that so many believe Sansa isn’t allowed to have any awareness of anything -- she’s not allowed to be smart). 

She knows that Ramsay Bolton is a monster that cannot be allowed to continue holding the North. She knows him better than Jon. She knows what he can do better than Jon. She knows what he won’t do better than Jon -- and that more than likely includes preparing for an onslaught of dead coming to attack them all. And if Jon wants to eff off to someplace warm, well fine, she will rally the troops to do what needs to be done, on her own. 

She knows that that there are other Northern Houses wronged by Ramsay who have a better chance of joining the fight, that Jon then refuses to call upon, despite her begging him to -- must. fight. war. now. (And don’t even get me started on those Houses being reprimanded harder than the Houses that fought against them, by Lyanna, even though THEY WERE NEVER ASKED TO HELP BECAUSE JON JUST DECIDED NOT TO GO TO THEM OKAY DON’T GET ME STARTED). She knows that if Jon refuses to turn every rock, because he basically hasn’t decided he wants to live at this point, she has to take matters into her own hands and contact her abuser to seek the help they’ll need. She knows that Ramsay will play with Jon on the field of battle. Sansa also knows her areas that lack expertise and openly admits her faults in lack of battle awareness and how to explain what he’ll do there. But, she knows better than Jon about the games Ramsay likes to play and she tries her best to express it.

She knows that the Umbers and the Karstarks helped destroy them and their family.

Sansa is full of forgiveness and mercy and kindness. She spends the entire story feeling all of these things here and there for people who do not deserve it. We know that her fundamental nature is gentle. That she believes, despite Cersei’s teachings, that she would rather lead by love than by fear. That she’d rather the people feel cared for by her than cower in her presence. But, leading by love over fear doesn’t necessarily mean that every single betrayal that passes shall...pass. That those who commit great crimes always get off with a smile and a cheer and those who are loyal get no reward in return for their fight.

There are obvious benefits to going, “Ahh let’s move on, it was a bad moment, but it’s over,” to the Umbers and Karstarks. But, there’s also a risk of turning every other Northerner against them, by saying that those betrayals will have no consequences and that the loyalty they had holds no more weight than someone literally handing over a Stark for execution does.

But, that’s all beside the point. 

The point is Sansa has Jon’s back on everything that he’s displayed superior knowledge to, as evidenced in that season. She spends every single day that Jon is away and avoiding Danaerys’ doe eyes like the plague, backing his decisions regarding the army of the dead (despite coming from another moment of blatant disrespect where he didn’t tell her of his decision to leave, before dragging her into the hall and blasting her with the info at the same time as everyone else, as if she’s on the same level as the rest of the Lords, instead of his literal only family and Lady of Winterfell). She’s constantly working the castle and with the inhabitants of it and the rest of the North in preparation for the upcoming war. She’s getting the castle battle ready. She’s preparing food storage. She’s having armor and weapons made. She’s quality controlling everything, so that everyone will have the best possible equipment and conditions in the fight. She’s turning down power left and right, when people try to take it away from Jon and give it to her, and reinforcing her belief in Jon’s place in the North and knowledge of what’s to come and decisions he’s making in regards to what needs to be done. 

[She’s giving away what little power she does have, when Bran turns back up in Winterfell. And she’s very clearly not even a little bit bothered by the fact that she’s doing so. He ends up turning it down, but Bran is Lord of Winterfell, she’s got no problem with it, because she’s not power hungry.]

Sansa has Jon’s back. But, Jon, in return of Sansa’s loyalty and love, expects her to always have his back, without offering the same in return. Even on things that he’s shown less prowess in. Which is especially hurtful, because they had a whole heartwarming moment under soft snowfall about how they have to have full trust in one another, before these meetings happened. Something Sansa exhibits towards him, even in times when she shouldn’t, as he’s messing with their lives and the lives of their people, APPARENTLY (lol lies) for the love (lolol) of some woman he just met who burns people alive. And something Jon shows towards her, about twice, when they get a deceptive letter from Tyrion and he cares about her opinion for a moment and when he places the North in her care (after he just bulldozed her with the information that he’s leaving).

Sansa is allowed to have an opinion about what happens with the Umbers and the Karstarks. She’s allowed to voice it. (I mean, Rickon is literally dead because of Smalljon Umber. Rickon would still be alive if not for him and his people). No one else in the room was undermining Jon by speaking up on the matter, and so she cannot be the only one there who was, just because she’s closer to him than they are. She’s not less merciful or less kindhearted for finding this particular betrayal too much for nothing more than a slap on the wrist. Jon choosing to just have them simply reaffirm their loyalty to House Stark wasn’t some big lesson in kindness for Sansa. Sansa is already inherently kind. There is a difference between learning lessons from the powerful and evil-hearted people around her and being evil-hearted, herself.

And if Jon wanted to go into that meeting with her completely on his side, like she is about everything else regarding the dead and so forth (which he very clearly must’ve 🎵SPOKEN TO HER ABOUT🎵), than he should’ve spoken to her beforehand. Should’ve gone into that meeting with a conversation already had between the two of them, in private, regarding what he plans on doing in regards to the families that helped put the majority of theirs’ in the ground. Sansa has no way of telepathically knowing that Jon plans on going, “Listen, some Umbers are dead, some Karstarks are dead, the price has been paid.” She’s not a mind reader. Just as he should’ve spoken to her, beforehand, about his decision to head for Dragonstone. 

Jon cannot constantly expect Sansa to just feel all of the same things he feels and embrace every decision he has, without coming to her and speaking about those feelings and thoughts. There is a very big jump between believing Winterfell belongs to Sansa and believing you don’t even need to privately mention to her, before a public meeting with the rest of the fickle Lords, that you plan on throwing yourself to a dragon and hoping for the best or that you plan on pardoning the very people who helped dismantle the North and the Starks -- who supported the Bolton’s rule.

Sansa is kind and is full of mercy and sympathy and empathy and love. It would not of taken much effort, at all, from Jon to of had her backing his thought process on either matter, even if she doesn’t agree with it. All he had to do was speak to her. To not lump her in with the rest of the Northerners, who hear his big decisions at the drop of a hat. You cannot have beautiful, heartwarming moments in the soft snowfall about trust and then not show her any afterwards. You cannot drop undisclosed bombshells and then expect Sansa, who is finally in a place with someone that she feels comfortable and safe having a voice and using it, to not be shocked and feel able to give her thoughts. You cannot expect that she is the only person not allowed to. 

Sansa is a person who is so kind and so forgiving that she’s on Jon’s side all the way to the very end. She’s still trying to keep him a King even after everything he led them to and all of the times he brushed her opinions aside. Even after he’s forever stained the North by bringing them to that massacre of Kings Landing. The world will forever know they supported Daenerys in that slaughter and, despite that, Sansa still knows he’s a good man. Still believes everything he’s done was to protect them all. (Because I refuse to believe that look she had when speaking with Daenerys wasn’t Sansa coming to the conclusion that Jon was doing everything he felt he needed to, to save them). 

Sansa was literally in Kings Landing feeling sympathy for those around her who had direct involvement in her torment. There were people backing her into corners, scaring her and reminding her how unsafe she was. And she was, in moments, still showing them undeserved kindness. Still thinking of these people with sympathies in her heart. Still taking care of the people who spent their time belittling her, when they were drowning in their own fears of battle.

That level of kindness and love isn’t taught in a single moment (of disrespect shown towards her) in a meeting of pardoning and bringing those who betrayed them back under their fold. It’s something you’re inherently born with and something you manage to continue to foster within yourself through the worst of your life, even when those around you are trying to break you and turn you into the worst of them. 

And thinking that those loyal to the Starks should be rewarded for that loyalty and raised up in station, while the Umbers and Karstarks should have some consequences for their disloyalty (something, I believe, is a very general and non-radical thought process of the time? might be wrong, but I think that’s true?), doesn’t strip away those fundamental qualities she holds. And also doesn’t solidify that she wouldn’t of changed her mind if Jon had come to her with the trust and respect he believed they should show one another, before that meeting, to let her know where he was at.

Anyway, Sansa’s a good and kind person who knows some stuff about some stuff and respect my lady, thank you.

[ajoblotofjunk]

Sorry for the unsolicited ask, but I remember seeing you said that Ned Stark was Lawful Neutral. What DnD alignments do you see for the rest of the characters at the beginning of their journeys and where they are now in the books? Also, what should have the TV adapted from the book and what should the book series take from the TV’s changes and pitfalls?

Hi! I love unsolicited asks, no apologies necessary. :) 

I’m going to pick a handful of some of the more interesting-to-me POV characters since it’s been a minute since I did a book re-read and also there are a ton of characters in this story. So. If there’s someone in particular you were hoping for, you can ask!

Ned Stark - Lawful-neutral from start to finish, ALTHOUGH. I think Ned’s great tragedy is that at the very end he bent and it didn’t do shit for him anyway. He still was killed, because he’d gone too far and he was too unwilling to bend when he had more power. Also my first D&D character ever was a LN gnome fighter and I just have a lot of feelings about LN fighters.

Catelyn Stark - Here’s a hot take: I think Cat is True Neutral at the beginning, and then when things start to happen to her family she slips a bit into Neutral-Evil, with the selfishness focused around her pain and her family’s well-being. (There’s an argument to be made that she’s chaotic-good/chaotic-neutral but I think Cat feels more strongly about authority than that suggests.)

Arya Stark (yes, my secret is out: I am a Stark fan) - Arya is very chaotic-good at the beginning of the story and where we’ve left her, I think she’s chaotic-neutral and poised on a tipping point where she could slip to chaotic-evil but I think she’s gonna go back to CG. Maybe True Neutral, but I don’t see her becoming the true Faceless Man archetype that requires in the books (in the show I think she did become TN).

Cersei Lannister - I think Cersei is Lawful-Evil, because Tywin is Lawful-Evil and she thinks she’s female Tywin. In reality she’s probably Neutral Evil, especially where we’re at in the books, though she still lets herself be bound by authority in a way that suggests she might still be LE.

Tyrion Lannister - Okay here’s the thing. I don’t like Tyrion. Which, if you’ve read my fics, is probably not a surprise to discover. I liked him in the early books! But as he’s gone on I’ve liked him less and less and now he just annoys the crap out of me in ASOIAF. I think Tyrion was probably True Neutral at the beginning; honestly there’s an argument that he might’ve been Neutral-Good, but he’s definitely Neutral-Evil now, MAYBE Chaotic-Neutral if I were being generous with him. Which I am not.

Jaime Lannister - Jaime has had I think the biggest alignment shift out of anyone in the entire series. I think he started life as Lawful-Good, and then when the authority he trusted betrayed him, he shifted to an outward Chaotic Neutral/inward Chaotic Good that’s struggling to reassert itself. I think where he’s at now in the series is transitioned into that Chaotic Goodness more outwardly, and I think by the end of the series he’ll be fully CG, POSSIBLY Neutral Good but I’m not sure I see him making that shift completely.

Brienne of Tarth - Brienne is maybe my all-time favorite character of anything ever, so I have a lot of Opinions about her and this one I hold dear: I think a lot of fandom thinks she’s Lawful-Good, but I think she’s Neutral-Good. She is extremely driven by keeping her promises, but not, IMO, because of the weight of authority but because of the weight of her own moral beliefs in making a promise. She wants to do good because it’s the right thing to do, not because any oaths she takes tell her to. It’s why she was willing to hear Jaime out about what he did to Aerys when others (like Ned) wouldn’t - because she recognizes that good is the choice, not the oath. BECAUSE HERE’S THE DEAL. If Brienne were Lawful-Good, she would have stayed and married someone on Tarth. But she’s not. So she didn’t. I think she will retain her Neutral-Goodness through the series. I could see her slipping to maybe Chaotic-Good, but honestly I think she’ll stay NG/return to NG by the end.

I am very curious if people disagree on any of these (even Brienne!) so discussion encouraged. :)

Whew, that was pretty long. And I still have more of this question to answer! So the rest I’m putting under a Keep Reading cut.

What should have the TV adapted from the book and what should the book series take from the TV’s changes and pitfalls?

This is a really complicated question, and I really like it, but I’m not sure I feel confident answering it.

I think the TV show suffered from trying to refine an unfinished story to its core themes without knowing where George was going to end (except I guess with Bran as King?). I used to think that the choices they made about what they left out where telling - all of the Targaryen nonsense limited just to Dany and not any of the other stuff, for instance - but given the finale, I think D & D both hyperfocused only on keeping the main points they needed for what they saw as the end while also only paying off the bones of what they’d adapted from the first three books and didn’t have room for the ways GRRM expanded the story after the third book nor for the ways his end will probably be more complicated than the one they were limited to by it being a TV finale.

All of which is to say: I would have loved them to adapt the Lady Stoneheart arc, particularly for Brienne, but that D&D had no idea how to make that work within the confines of what their limitations both of what they’d chosen to focus on previously and TV, and so I understand why they didn’t. I would have loved, as well, to have more depth and see more of the Dorne arc with Arianne and Myrcella and Tristan, but that adds a whole season’s worth of episodes that the show just could not absorb. The show was forced to choose early to focus on the Starks and the Lannisters, with Dany as a third party, and they never were able to sway from that.

If I were starting over from scratch, I would have to have a long talk with GRRM and figure out what his point is, and work backward from there. I don’t get the sense D & D worked backward from anything but the Red Wedding.

(To be honest, if I were writing the show, I’d do everything the same up to season 6, at which point I’d separate Jaime and Cersei, and make it all about setting up the War of the Five Queens in s6, then we deal with the threat of the White Walkers as a serious, full-season arc for season 7, and then spend season 8 paying off the Queens War and ending with whatever thematic ending it is GRRM is going toward (humans are the ultimate monsters! Women make it work! Women fuck it up just as badly as the men did! Democracy for everyone! Peace is tentative and must be fought for in a tense standoff that all of these older, weary women now understand! Which is what I would have chosen. heh.)

As for the other way, what do I think GRRM should learn from the show. I mean I love the tent scene and would love to see something like that adapted somehow to the books (when Jaime comes to Winterfell to fight, would be my personal suggested placement; imagine the drama and romance!). I think GRRM could also stand to learn from streamlining to key characters and plots, which is what I hope he’s doing in TWOW. But where we’re at in the story in the books is so different from where the show went that I think it’s hard to make any specific suggestions. Mostly I just really want him to look at the story he’s telling and understand it, and recognize that it may have changed certain endings he may have considered previously before his story unfolded itself and he realizes that Jaime and Brienne living on Tarth can be the sweet part of the bittersweet. Ahem.

[agentrouka-blog]

How do you think Jon & Sansa's relationship play out in the books ? Will it be platonic or there could be some restricted or worse 1 sided romantic feelings ?

I’m pretty vocal about being a jonsa, I think, so I don’t think it will surprise you that I think there will be a romantic angle to their relationship. 

I mean, really, where can he go with them? Enemies? Both are comitted to Winterfell, and miss their family and childhood. They think fondly of each other and have similar values. There is no basis for meaningful enmity unless one of them turns villainous out of nowhere. Highly unlikely. I’m not saying there won’t be conflict, but if it’s supposed to be meaningful, it’s not set up for much drama. “They were not very close siblings and now they clash over their differences. Shocking.”

Happy platonic sibling-friends? Jon already has that dynamic with Arya and Bran. While it would be sweet to see these two finally interact and get along as siblings, too, there’s not much added to the story by it. “Oh, it turns out, they don’t hate each other, like the text already suggested. Surprise.” If they had set up age-old hate between them, and their traumatic journeys have rendered that null, maybe. But GRRM specifically has not set it up that way.

Romance? That’d make a lot of things click. The weight of romance and songs in Sansa’s arc requires a character of some weight to carry it, if it’s supposed to have a meaning beyond either a hasty treat or a cynical denial. Jon’s own longing for home and family and children is so deeply connected to Winterfell and the Starks that it also feels a lot more satisfying to see those themes connected to Sansa all tied together, rather than narrowing connection and conflict between them to one of rulership and sibling affection, especially when the latter doesn’t carry near the same weight as his connection to Arya and Bran. 

Basically, if the conflict was supposed to be Stark Family v. Dany Romance, you wouldn’t need Sansa. He could have kept a blend between Arya and Sansa in one character. As far as family dynamics go, two Stark sisters work brilliantly in connection to each other, but become redundant in terms of Jon - unless their relationships are very different. And if romance was never going to be part of it, then GRRM has wasted five books drenching Sansa’s chapters in a reflection of the concept. A romantic connection between Jon and Sansa mirrors the Lannisters and the Tully-Petyr mess, pays off some loose ends, creates new tension in the existing sibling dynamics and ties up Sansa and Jon’s mirroring dreams. Plus, the pay-off for RLJ. Plus all the foreshadowing.

I certainly don’t think it would be one-sided. They both fit each other’s romantic profile too well. And by that I don’t mean “Jon has a thing for redheads” but the things they value, like softness, attention, protective honor, and gallant heroics. 

Considering there was no five-year-gap, I don’t think we will see some kind of fully-fleshed out adult relationship between them to rival the broiling complexity of Jaime and Cersei. I think it’s likely to be very reflective of the romantic songs associated with Sansa. Florian and Jonquil, Aemon and Naerys, Jenny and Duncan. I think there will be drama and angst surrounding the fact that unlike less responsible characters, they will take the struggle between personal desires and political responsibilities very seriously. Plus communication issues.

Considering it’s only two books to go, it’ll probably be a not-so-slow burn, private anguish, unspoken words, moments of drama, promises made and broken, perceived betrayal, sad-song-level broken hearts and resignation (think Swanlake or The Little Mermaid) that will seem to end in a well of sadness, but will find its happy ending in a very satisfying twist. 

Something that I am absolutely befuddled by is how GRRM will handle the whole child foreshadowing. Lyanna, Dany, Gilly, Robb’s prevented heir, Roslyn Frey, Sansa’s plentiful child references… The lack of the five-year-gap again makes that an extremely wonky proposition. Sansa is like thirteen-and-a-half right now. Even if GRRM is very scrupulous about the passage of time, Sansa won’t exactly be very grown-up even by the ending. And GRRM has been unsubtle about the dangers of childbirth: Lyanna, Elia, Lysa, Dalla, Dany, Minisa, etc. Dany marrying at 13, Lyanna being abducted at 15 and dying at 16 weren’t supposed to be happy scenarios.

I’m a bit concerned about how important Stark progeny will be to the plot, and whether it will make GRRM go down murky paths. 

Something like this is making me narrow my eyes a little in concern and suspicion: 

A few of the oldest gowns had been made for young Lysa Tully of Riverrun, however, and others Gretchel had been able to alter to fit Alayne, who was almost as long of leg at three-and-ten as her aunt had been at twenty. (...) 

And at Winterfell, Sansa was a little girl with auburn hair. My daughter is a maiden tall and fair, and her hair is chestnut." (AFFC, Alayne I)

If GRRM somehow decided to move things beyond emotionally romantic, he’d have to be extremely careful not to drift off into something creepy and irresponsible. Romeo and Juliet had the age constellation of Jon and Sansa, but that doesn’t mean it was great that they got married and shared a bed that young. Even if GRRM allows time to pass. 

So I think unless a child is somehow relevant to the plot, they may well never be physically together on the page beyond age appropriate kissing. 

Which would be perfectly fine by me.

[edwheeler]

And then there was the smell.

The General Assembly proceeded further to show that it considered this doctrine no heresy, in the year 1846, by inviting the Old School General Assembly to the celebration of the Lord’s supper with them. The Sons of the Harpy had promised grisly death to any traitor who dared serve the dragon queen, and to their kith and kin as well, so the Shavepate’s men went about as jackals, owls, and other beasts, keeping their true faces hidden. And when, timid and trembling after these open confessions, he went back to her with me

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(insisting on my coming, declaring that he was afraid to look

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lugosis carhartt

At Eastwatch I was patient … and cold, so very cold. He set up all night and work, so as to make me comfortable. The Attorney-general, Henry Bailey, Esq., then rose and opened the case for the state, in substance, as follows: He said that, after months of anxiety and expectation, the curtain had at length risen, and he and the jury were about to bear their part in the sad drama of real life, which had so long engrossed the public mind.

[katastrophycal]

Okay y'all want full targ restoration au? Imagine a story with Rhaenys lives and raised by the Sand Snakes AND instead of Aegon living/Jon joining them give me a bastard Targaryen from either Aerys or Rhaegar combine it with Gendry's botched storyline of being a nobody raised to the throne...

Imagine the idea of this child (Let's call him Jaehaeron, after Jaehaerys I and Daeron II who are considered to be some of the best Targaryen kings). Jaehaeron, grew up a street rat (maybe we'll employ some of the Young Griff storyline and have him be a member of the Golden Company or have him be a sell sword with Daario) and knows the struggle of being lower class and fighting for a way to make something of himself. He's never had a family, anyone he's ever cared about he's lost, either to disease infighting, to the law etc. He's learned that he's just one of those people who doesn't get to be in a family.

Imagine him not knowing who he is, never known family and never wanting any, but he meets Daenerys. He joins her because he believes in her and her cause. He knows what it's like to fight for yourself but he wants to learn how to fight for those who can't do it themselves, and she seems like the right person to learn from. Daenerys knows the minute she sees him. Maybe she dreamt it, maybe she could see the ghost of her brother's in him, maybe blood just calls to blood. In any case, of course she hesitates at first to let him know. She gathers evidence from spies around the world, she studies his intentions/ his mannerisms/ his very heart to make sure that he's not like Viserys. And he's not, he's the first sign of home she's had in a long time. And she becomes his first taste of it, essentially granting him saftey to love people and not get killed over it.

Imagine Rhaenys training with the Snakes, surrounded by home and family, but still feeling like something is missing. Imagine her Uncle Oberyn bringing her news of Daenerys in Meereen. At first she's guilty for wanting to know her but Oberyn reassures her that no one can have too much family, in fact Daenerys across the sea might have too little. So she sets off, with the assurance that the full weight of Dorne is behind her. Imagine her meeting Daenerys, matching title for title and after the following silence grows to be too much Daenerys launches down from her seat and Rhaenys just knows that she's gained another sister. After hearing Jaehaeron's story she just gathers him up in her arms and bawls. While he can't replace Aegon, the hole in her chest labeled brother does shrink a little.

They work flawlessly together. Jaehaeron walks Rhaenys through life in Essos, maybe sprinkles in a little bit of personal stories. Dany and Rhae pour over the Targaryen history and tentatively start making plans for Valyria. Jay pretends to be not paying attention (he is) and he and Dany agree on most things and he actually sits in on a lot of her meetings with her citizens. They all have moments of impulsivity tempered with control, but generally Jaehaeron tends to be the patient one, he tends to wait for all the information to make a final decision. Daenerys has her ideals and her determination to make it happen. Rhaenys is very action oriented but also is aware that forgiveness can sometimes go a longer way than retribution.

He and Rhae both teach Daenerys how to fight. She comes out fighting best with an Arakh, which means after they teach the basics they bring in one of Daenerys' remaining Dothraki to teach her while they learn from Grey Worm (Missandei being taught as well) but generally the stick with the tools of their trades.

Daenerys introduces them to Viserion and Rhaegal and tells them of Drogon. As they grow closer to each other, they do so towards the dragons as well. You'd think Rhaenys would be drawn to Rhaegal but Rhaenys barely remembers her father so it's actually Viserion who she bonds with. In the right light his scales remind her of the sands of Dorne, his fire of the light that filtered through the tent she shared with the snakes, his eyes of each piece of gold she earned from their battles and conquests, and while she never knew Viserys she's not gonna let something like a bad namesake keep her from her dragon. Jaehaeron just thinks that Rhaegal exists to hate him. He shows no sign of interest towards Jay, so much so that it almost gives him a complex about not being a "true" Targaryen. But Jay is persistent. He's there whenever he can be, he's always the one to bring Rhaegal his meals, eventually he's able to get close enough to stroke the neck of Rhaegal and when they look into each other's eyes Jaehaeron realizes that it's not hatred or indifference, it's loneliness that's keeping Rhaegal from bonding with him. From then on Jay is in the line up the pyramid every day, to ask Dany to release the dragons from their cells.

Imagine if when Dany leaves on Drogon Tyrion does not start running things, Jay and Rhaenys do. Rhae judging from her experience and compassion, Jaehaeron from his knowledge on the ground and instincts. They take Tyrion's advice into account but also Missandei's, Grey Worm's, even Oberyn's opinions. Imagine Rhaenys truly getting to know the people, and slowly but surely she starts to fall in love with this land. Imagine Jay training the Meereeneans(?) Because the need to and because he doesn't want to see a single one of his citizens helpless. They follow in Dany's footsteps, ruling as she would, so when the slavers siege (because of course they would) the Targ's are ready for them. When Daenerys returns with the Dothraki she's met with her sister at the head of the Sand Snakes and the soldiers of Dorne. She sees her brother riding with the Second Sons and the Golden Company (who are now convinced honor is as good as gold). The battle for Meereen was over before it began, especially after the dragons join the fray. As soon as it's over Jaehaeron and Rhaenys are ecstatic (and also demand Dany teaches them how to ride).

Imagine if it's Oberyn who brings Olenna to Dany and her cause, and Yara knows Jay from years back so she's even more confident for her cause when she sees him at Daenerys' side. During her time away they managed to comission armor for the dragons and their riders. When Daenerys sets sail for Westeros her siblings are by her side, her dragons are safe above them, her best friends are at her back, and she has some of the wisest minds advising her (including/excluding Tyrion depending on how you feel about him). They have the Dothraki, the Unsullied, a decent amount of Ironborn, the Second Sons(with or without Daario depending on yada yada....), the Golden Company, and the whole Dornish army. They stayed long enough for the new Meereen Guard to have been sufficiently and leaders put in place. The citizen's hearts are behind their Targaryens and they know if they ever even fear trouble they will fly back to assure them.

Imagine that they do take King's Landing first. The dornish get the majority of the lower town evacuated before the gold cloaks even notice. The dragons decimate the scorpions early on, with only glancing blows thanks to the armor. Even the wildfire Cersei throws out as a last resort doesn't stop them and as the trio makes their way to the throne room they have to walk past the what little is left of Cersei's forces. They decide to pardon every soldier who bends the knee, the rest are set to work rebuilding the damage of the siege. Cersei is sentenced to execution, via dragonfire where the Sept of Baelor once stood.

Imagine that the Iron Throne does melt, but only enough to shape into a bench. Just like in Meereen, however this one is long enough to seat three. No arguments, no hesitation, the Targaryens work better as a family anyway.

They rule as one. They leave a small council in charge of King's Landing and set off to the rest of Westeros. They do meet some resistance but no one is strong enough to stand against them, and honestly after meeting them and hearing their vision no one even wants to. Then there's the north.

Depending on how anti stark you are you can visualize the war for the dawn however you like. But imagine them hearing through Jon's story, taking a stealth mission to observe the white walkers themselves. Imagine that in addition to granting them access to Dragonstone they also command soldiers from each kingdom. (Jon is... commanding troops? Attempting to make an alliance that doesn't have him bending the knee) Imagine a fleet of red Priestesses, giving their fire to each soldier (not just the dothraki cause why not??), Jorah fighting with Missandei and Grey Worm, and hiding Bran at the starks head table (which reminds us of Ned and how long it's been for all of them). Imagine not housing the innocents in the crypt (cause they have common sense) and actually send them to the godswood to be protected by some of their own soldiers but also Jay overhead on Rhaegal. Imagine Rhaenys on the front lines with Viserion lighting her way (no walker proof storyline=no Viserion death win-win). Imagine Danerys cutting the wights of from behind, and when spotting the night king she goes to meet him. (However you view the show end to the NK/the prince who was promised prophecy this is gonna Dany, sorry).

Imagine Jaehaeron fighting like hell for Winterfells innocents, dancing through the fire almost as though he's a part of it. Nothing seems to touch him. Imagine Rhaenys cutting through wights like paper, grinning from ear to ear cause she's riding on the battle high and the strength of the Sand Snake around her. Imagine that when Drogon's fire doesn't work, the Night King throws a sword into Dany's child's chest. She pulls it out of his chest plate(again thank you armor) and Drogon lights it ablaze. She meets the monster for blow. Seeing her in danger both Jaehaeron and Rhaenys make their way to her. Imagine the Night King dealing her a viscous blow but getting knocked down by a spear from Rhae and kept distracted by Jay. They give Dany enough time to stab the so called king in the back (mirroring when her father was lost and their kingdom was officially lost to them; all these years later her family is remade and the kingdom is theirs again). As Jon sees them from the remains of the wights, let's pretend no r+l=j or at least he doesn't know and if he found out there's no way he gets enough support to take the throne from them or feel the need to. He decides to bend the knee, only to find that the Targaryens don't really plan on keeping the kingdoms together, as they were anyway.

Being rulers does have its share of problems, especially as they dissolve the country into something more democratic but they make it work. One of them is always in Kings Landing, even with Rhaenys' frequent trips to Dorne and Meereen, Jaehaeron's explorations of Essos and his quest to rebuild Valyria, and Daenerys' continues mission to make every land truly free. They always make time for their people and each other.

And so while Daenerys is the Mother of Dragons she is also the Hero of the People, Rhaenys is the Fierce Queen from Dorne, and Jay is declared Jaehaeron the Fortunate and he cannot find reason to disagree. They each have their titles, their armies, their stories. But they also have each other. After all, the dragon has three heads.

[alltheworldsinmyhead]

HEART DON’T FAIL ME NOW

gendry + arya + anastasia au // ao3

Gendrya Appreciation Week, Day 2: AU

Girl gets a family.

Boy gets rich

And fairytale gets a spin

How can we fail with everything to win?

 Conman and princess get their wish

Fairytale comes true

Funny, one small part I never knew

With everything to win

The only thing I lose is

 You.

- Everything to Win, Anastasia The Musical

 *****

Never, in his twenty-seven years of life and twenty-one of making a living as a thief, a swindler and a trickster on the streets of Leningrad, Gendry Waters had a worse job than teaching one infuriatingly stubborn orphan girl how to be a princess.

If only Arry did not look like the absolute older mirror copy of Princess Arya Stark, he would’ve long ago vetoed the whole idea and, with or without Davos approval, left the girl somewhere near the closest bar so she could find a job better suited for her fiery temper and foul mouth. But, to his eternal despair, she is every bit as pale-skinned, grey-eyed and dark-haired like The Lost Princess and the fact that she doesn’t seem to remember a single thing from childhood only makes the whole con easier.

She is also desperate to find out anything about her past and willing to believe in the story they made up about her with a heart-wrenching determination.

Truth to be told, Gendry can understand that. He too, comes from nothing. Maybe if he was not sure of that, if he didn’t remember his mother’s clients kicking him for laughs as if he was a street rat, he would also entertain the thought of having a loving family once.  But he does remember and he has no doubt at all that he is a rat indeed. A clever, Russian rat, but a rat still.

See, that is the whole problem about Arry – it is all about this idea of a loving family for her. She doesn’t care if they were Starks or simple factory workers. She just needs to belong somewhere, it is clear as a day.

And that makes it impossible for Gendry to hate her, even when she is bickering with him all days long and getting on his last nerve every time she opens her mouth.  

Which means all the damn time.

 ***

 He found her in Winter Palace; a small figure curled on the damaged wood of the ballroom’s floor, tracing the ruined tapestry depicting the former royal family with her fingertips.

In the cold winter light getting through the shattered windows, she looked like something straight out of a dream. Dressed in mismatched, baggy clothes to keep warm and with an uneven cut hair underneath man’s hat, she might have been just another poor girl, whoring herself to keep starvation at bay. She was probably just looking for shelter from the cold.  

No need to pay attention to her at all, I should just leave her be and look through the second floor like I planned to –

Her gasp could be heard even across the room when Gendry stepped on the particularly squeaky floorboard.

She jumped to her feet immediately, quick as a flash.

‘’Don’t be afraid.’’ He said, but the cold shock spread through his body, making him freeze in place.

Because the girl was standing tall in front of the tapestry and the stray sunlight framed her, caressed her features so lovingly – her cheekbones and her chin, her eyes, and her brow – that something sweet and long gone resurfaced suddenly in his memory. Buried underneath the years-long past like a smell of his mother’s hair and the screams of people butchered on the streets.

On the wall behind her, there was a damaged depiction of a small girl in silver furs, Dark-haired, long-faced, gray-eyed.

And she was staring at him silently. Dark-haired, long-faced.

Fire burning in her grey eyes.

 ***

 ‘’ One more time. You learned how to ride horses at three.’’

‘’And my father got me my own when I was six.’’

‘’Correct. The horse’s name was –‘’

‘’Nymeria.’’

 ‘’I don’t believe we told her that, did we?’’

 ***

 ‘’Robb. Sansa. Bran. Rickon. Robb. Sansa. Bran. Rickon. It doesn’t seem right.’’ She whines, wriggling in her seat.

The train slowly rolls through snowy hills of Poland towards France and Gendry wants to do nothing else but savor the triumph of getting out of godforsaken Russia – oh, excuse him, Soviet Union – but he could not do that with Arry’s constant chirping. Sometimes, he wonders if the perspective of Princess Sansa offering him the girl’s weight in gold is a worthy reward for all his trouble. She’s a small thing, after all.

With a pained groan, he covers his eyes with his arm.

‘’Would you shut up for a second?’’

He can hear Davos’ warning huff and then Arry’s voice, dripping with honey.

‘’Gendry, can I ask you something?’’

He wants to say no, but he has pushed his luck enough already. You need to control your temper, my boy, Davos said. We need to keep her happy.

‘’Yes?’’

‘’Do you truly believe I’m a princess?’’

No.

He drops his arm and nods his head slowly. Arry sits with her back straight as a rod and her chin up, the way they taught her. Gendry cannot help but think that this posture suits her.

‘’Yes, I do.’’

She bites on her lip slightly and then one of her eyebrows slowly raises up in a perfect arch.

‘’Well, is it a way to speak to a princess then?’’ she says coolly, dignified, and Davos doesn’t manage to reach for his tissue fast enough to mask his laughter under fake coughing.

Somehow, it’s hard to scowl at her after that.

 ***

 ‘’What’s so incorrect about that?’’ he asks her later, in the dead of the night, when only Davos’ snoring interrupts the silence in their car.

‘’Huh?’’

‘’No, huh. Pardon.’’

‘’Fine. Pardon?’’

‘’When you were repeating- ‘’ Princess Arya’s ‘’-your siblings’ names. You said that there’s something incorrect about them.’’

‘’Oh, that.’’ She stays silent for a moment and he turns his head slightly to glance at her. In the darkness he can only see the outline of her body, its hills and valleys under the blanket. He can paint the rest in his mind; Arry in a white nightdress, her feet bare and hair loose. Warm and pink.  

He shivers slightly and pulls his own blanket higher under his chin.

‘’I just think there is something missing. Or rather someone. There should be one more person, before Robb.’’

Gendry’s heart loses its rhythm in his chest.

‘’Have you read about this person somewhere?’’ he asks cautiously, but he somehow already know what her answer will be.

‘’No. All the books you gave me name five royal children. Robb, Sansa, Arya, Bran, Rickon.’’

He’s glad for the darkness, cause just as it shields her from him, it also shields him from her. So she cannot see how he’s staring at the ceiling, internal battle tearing him apart.

‘’There was.. there was one more Stark child.’’

She sits up so abruptly that she bumps her head against the top bunk of her bed and groans.

‘’What? If so, why didn’t you-‘’

‘’His name was Jon. He was King Ned’s bastard son, that’s why he’s not in the books. Not worth mentioning.’’ Gendry’s voice drops to a whisper. ‘’He was also not very popular at the court. There is not much to know about him, anyway. They sent him to the military before the Revolution and he died at war.’’

Gendry can hear her sharp inhale. He doesn’t dare to look in her direction.

‘’Well, it was stupid of you not to mention him anyway. What if Princess Sansa asked me about her – about our forth brother and I wouldn’t know what she’s talking about?’’

Gendry knows Arry is right. He doesn’t know himself why he told Davos not to inform her about the existence of the Bastard Prince.

(Only, it’s a complete lie, because he does know. Because Princess Arya was rumored to have a lot of affection for Jon, going as far as calling him her favorite brother. Out of all her siblings, he would be probably the most difficult for her to forget. Which meant- which could mean that-)

‘’Jon.’’ She flops back on the mattress. ‘’Jon. Robb. Sansa. Bran. Rickon.’’

Gendry remains silent, hands clenched into fists.

‘’Yes.’’ She sighs sleepily against her pillow. ‘’Yes, now it sounds right.’’

 ***

 He is sure he has suffered through the worst of it; through history and etiquette lessons, through her terrible table manners and sailor’s mouth, through getting out of Russia and getting to Paris.

He thinks that he and Davos actually managed to transform dirty orphan Arry into a well-educated, bright and charming Princess Arya, or at least, a very good imitation of her. She doesn’t keep her elbows on the table anymore, can recite the whole family tree of the Starks three centuries back and is an excellent cyvasse player.

And he… enjoys her company. Somehow.

So the dancing lesson takes him by a complete surprise.

‘’Come on, lad, pull her closer! I could’ve fit another couple in-between you.’’ Davos barks and he sounds far too gleeful for Gendry’s taste. ‘’Her Majesty is doing splendidly. Maybe she should be the one instructing you, huh?’’

Arry laughs at that, gracefully spinning underneath Gendry’s arm. Her blue dress swirls around her bare calves when she turns.

It’s really pretty. It looked good on the hanger in the shop when he was picking it out, but now that she’s wearing it – now that she’s wearing it, it has completely transformed into something truly beautiful.

‘’One, two, three. One, two, three.’’ Davos counts, but it sounds distant somehow.

All Gendry can really hear is his own heartbeat and the slide of silk against her skin; all he can really feel is the smell of her hair and her perfume, light and fresh. Where did she get it?

Left and right and backward and forward, they waltz to the music from a borrowed gramophone in their hotel room. Arry avoids looking down at her feet by staring right into his eyes as instructed, and it somehow makes him feel both hot and cold, uncomfortable and hungry.

After two rounds, they no longer step on each other’s feet and simply go through the motions, silently moving around each other. Closer. And closer.

She’s so confident now, no longer skittish like a deer. There is not a single ounce of shyness on her face. Only curiosity… curiosity and a dash of awe. 

One, two, three, one, two, three, left and right and backward and forward and spin.

His fingers itch to caress her blushed cheeks, to brush stray strands of hair from her forehead.

One, two, three, one, two, three, left and right and backward and forward and spin.

His hand fits in the dip of her waist perfectly.

This smell… light and fresh. Nothing with flowers. More like a wind – like pines, like snow –

There is no snow in Paris, it’s ridiculous, pull yourself together Gendry, for fuck’s sake

 ‘’I think Davos went to sleep.’’ Arya whispers and Gendry abruptly stops moving, making her lose her balance and bump against his chest, their legs tangling together.

He glances at the empty armchair above her head. You old fox

‘’Yeah. It’s – it’s probably late. I think we practiced enough.’’  He lets out through clenched teeth, looking down at her still in the circle of his arms.

Arry bites on her lip and there’s this overwhelming desire in Gendry, wild and dazzling, to just reach out and pull it from in-between her teeth, to just press his mouth to her instead, to make her moan and gasp the way she sometimes does in her sleep and I am forced to listen and do nothing, nothing at all, cause this is just a con, and she is just a girl, and none of this is even real.

‘’Goodnight, Your Majesty.’’ He drops her hands and leaves, leaves as fast as he can.

 ***

 ‘’You’re playing a dangerous game, lad.’’

‘’I don’t know what you mean.’’

‘’Oh, young hearts. They want what they want, truly.’’

‘’Fuck off and let me sleep, won’t you?’’

 ***

 Gendry finds her on a bridge next to the hotel. She’s staring at the Seine lazily passing down below,  humming to herself this strange lullaby, as she always seems to when she’s feeling uncertain.  

Far away, long ago, burning dim as an ember

‘’Stressed?‘’ he asks, softly, so as not to startle her.

But maybe she knows his steps just as well as he knows hers by now, because, when she turns around to face him, she doesn’t look surprised at all.

 It fits her, all of this. The beautiful dresses they obtained through Countess Shireen. Hair bows and pearls. Fine silk stockings.

Her hair reaches past shoulder blades now, curling at the ends a bit. Even when they are messed by a wind, she’s still every inch an image of a princess. Every inch of her perfect and enchanting.

‘’A bit. ‘’ Arry admits. ‘’Tomorrow, I might get everything I’ve ever wanted. But I can also find out that this-‘’ she gestures down at the pink skirt of her gown and her shiny shoes. ‘’-is just a lie. That I’m a lie. I can break this woman’s heart.’’

Gendry takes a few steps to stand next to her, leaning on the railing by her side.

‘’I just wish I could feel like Princess Arya. She’s still somehow a foreign person to me.’’  She raises her eyes to the outline of the Eiffel Tower at the horizon, harsh black lines against sky bleeding with a setting sun.

And the resolve that Gendry kept inside his heart for fifteen long years breaks.

‘’I saw her, once. When I was twelve.’’ 

 Arry whips her head towards him, mouth opened in shock, but Gendry’s firmly staring down at the dark river, lost in the memories.

‘’There was a parade in Saint Petersburg. It was hot, especially in a crowd – I think it must’ve been June or July. Royal family rode in a carriage, surrounded by guards, but I was tall for my age, and quick; I ran along, hoping for a glimpse of them. There were rumors that they wear clothes made of gold.’’ He chuckles quietly. ‘’And then there was some commotion on the street, so the carriage stopped. And I saw her.’’

Her, not you. His hands grip railing tighter, but Arry doesn’t seem to notice.

‘’How did she look like?’’ she asks, her voice shaking like a leaf on a wind.

‘’She was wriggling in her seat like a worm. I think Princess Sansa was scolding her, but she didn’t seem to listen. She kept on waving to the people and, for just a second, our eyes met.’’

He remembers it so well. Ever since he Arry appeared in his life, he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about that day, how it made him feel everything at once; how such an insignificant thing turned his world upside down.

This image of a little princess, so joyful and so vibrant, has kept him warm through many long nights. And the thought that such a bright light was snuffed out in a bloody basement so easily, made him the person he is now. There is nothing beautiful in this world, not a single thing he can protect or preserve. Nothing.   

Or, so he thought. Until another pair of gleaming eyes gazed into his.

‘’She had – she had such beautiful eyes. Such happy eyes. I had never seen eyes like that before.’’

The silence falls between them for a moment, before Arry inhales deeply.

‘’A parade in June.’’ She says. ‘’In Saint Petersburg.’’

‘’That’s right.’’

‘’Crowded streets. ‘’ she closes her eyes. ‘’It was hot, not a cloud on the sky. I was riding with my family and everyone was cheering for us and Sansa kept on telling me to sit down, but I wanted to see better. I wanted to see all those people, to thank them for coming to see us.’’

Her skin turns honey-golden when the sun submerges into the Seine.

‘’Then the boy caught my eye. Tall and skinny. Dark-haired. He looked at me  with those pretty blue eyes…. and bowed.’’

Boom. The church bells ring.

Boom. His heart hammers in his chest.

Boom. Arya spins on her feet and looks at him, wide-eyed.

‘’I didn’t tell you that.’’ escapes from in-between his stiff lips.

‘’I know.’’ she takes his hands in hers, cool from the metal railing and trembling. ‘’I remember.’’

 Boom.

He drops to his knees.

 ***

 The worst thing is, he should be happy.

He should be happy, cause he is about to become filthy rich; no more sleeping on the streets, no more struggling, stealing, running away. He is in France and there is a whole wide world ahead of him. Their impossible, half-cooked plan actually worked and it seems like they somehow, by some insane miracle, actually did not con anyone at all.

They delivered Princess Arya to her sister. She finally had a place where she could belong. The family she dreamt about her whole life.

And for this good, good deed, Gendry is going to be rewarded with a pile of gold.

So, he should be fucking overjoyed.

‘’I don’t want it.’’ He says to Princess Arya’s butler. The man looks as if he did not understand Gendry’s Russian, so he repeats in French. ‘’I don’t want the money.’’

‘’But sir, Princess Sansa-‘’

‘’Please tell her that – that the joy of her sister is a big enough reward for me. I don’t want this money.’’

Arya, in the opera, in this night-sky-dress sparkling with diamonds and falling down her body like a waterfall. The line of her spine and her shoulder blades moving underneath her skin. The smell of her hair; pine and fresh snow.

Her happy grey eyes.

A silver tiara atop her head.

He wants nothing to do with the Starks, nothing at all.

 ***

 ‘’So, you didn’t take the money.’’

‘’I didn’t.’’

‘’Why?’’

How can you ask me this?

‘’I didn’t feel like taking them.’’

‘’That’s not an answer.’’

‘’Yes, it is.’’

‘’No, it isn’t!’’

‘’Yes, it is! Gods, Arya, can you, for once in your life, not make it difficult for me?’’

He doesn’t know what she’s doing here, standing in front of his hotel in the pouring rain and letting it soak her to the bone. He would offer her his umbrella or a coat, if he wasn’t so angry at her.

She has her sister now, what is she looking for here?

‘’I just want to know why you didn’t take the money.’’ She stubbornly repeats. Droplets slide down her cheeks like tears. ‘’Tell me that and I’ll let you go.’’

‘’Oh, and what’s stopping me know, Your Majesty? Did you bring your guards with you, ordering to stop me from leaving if you won’t get what you want from me?’’ he snarls and regrets it the moment the words drop in no man’s land between them.

Arya’s face breaks and she takes a step back as if he slapped her.

‘’You know I didn’t, Gendry.’’ She sounds awfully small, looks awfully small in a wet dress and with her hair plastered to her head and neck.

Desperation does ugly things with a person, Princess.

‘’I’m leaving Paris, Your Majesty. I wish you all the happiness.’’ He says stiffly and steps on the street, passing Arya with his suitcase in one hand and an umbrella in another.

‘’No.’’

He wants to weep. He knows her. How could he believe it would be so simple?

Arya has her arms wrapped around his waist, her face pressed to his back. He can feel shivers running through her body.

‘’Please, Gendry. Please. Tell me why.’’ She whispers and his blood boils in his veins, coloring the Paris red in front of his eyes.

‘’Because you are not a transaction to me!’’ he shouts desperately, turning around to face her. His hands grab her shoulders; the umbrella and the suitcase drop to the pavement and the cold rain viciously attack all exposed parts of his body. He cannot find it in himself to care about that, not even a bit. ‘’Because maybe it started as a con, but it isn’t and it’s – it’s you, Arya. It’s you and I cannot pretend anymore that I don’t care, because I do. I care so much. And you’re a princess and I’m just me and this can never work, and I-‘’

Her lips are cold and wet against his. He tastes salt on them; salt, pine, and snow.

His hands fit around her waist perfectly.

His stubborn, impossible princess, laughing, when she embraces him. 

 ***

 Dear Sansa,

I am so sorry for leaving so quickly after we reunited, but you know yourself I was never suited to be a princess. It seems that I have found myself a family even before I met you again. I cannot abandon him now.

Wish me luck! We’ll be in Paris together soon, I promise.

I hope you’ll understand. After all, you’ve always loved grand stories of romance.

Your little sister,

Arya.  

[yeniayofnymeria]

Answers for Jonerys

The arguments put forward for the X theory are level by level. Level 1 arguments often contain the strongest sign. Second level arguments support level 1, but alone have only "thought-provoking" effects. Third level arguments, on their own, have no effect, and are additional arguments that support level 1 and 2.

> Her silver was trotting through the grass, to a darkling stream beneath a sea of stars. A corpse stood at the prow of a ship, eyes bright in his dead face, grey lips smiling sadly. A blue flower grew from a chink in a wall of ice, and filled the air with sweetness… . mother of dragons, bride of fire …

The strongest argument naturally ranks first. In fact, the whole theory is based on this argument.  There are two problems with this argument. 

The first problem is that this is the only level 1 argument. No other level 1 argument was presented, whereas a strong theory must have more than one level 1 argument. (It is not completely necessary, though.)

The second problem is the misinterpretation of this quote.

We need to understand what a shipper theory is. Both sides have to fall in love with each other, have a relationship together, and something (even if it doesn't end with a happy ending) at the end of the day.

For example, one-sided love or forced coexistence can never be a shipper theory. Or something like a one-night romance. (An example is Arya and Gendry on the show. This is not a ship.)

Let's go back to the argument. When interpreting this argument, Jonerys fandoms overlook a fact.  

Dany is warned by the Undying Ones. They told her that some events would happen and that it would be her disaster. Dany didn't understand the jigsaw words. So Dany asked them to explain and show her and they did.

This vision is an image shown to explain those disasters. To show Dany things and people that will hurt in the future ... The blue flower on the ice is Jon Snow. This flower emits sweet scent into the air. This is not a "love" sign, but a "death" sign. In books, the word "sweet" appears to be a sign of death in weight (or to face death). In addition, the word sweet and death are used side by side. So we need to pay attention to the places where this word is used.

For example, Sweet Raff, nicknamed "sweet", shows that GRRM sentenced this person to death. He died in his Mercy POV. Dany remembers Sir Willem smelling "sweet" when he was on his death bed. (Sickness)+dead=sweet We see that later. Bran's fall. Before fall he felt sweet pain in his body and also he used "sweet peach" word and he almost died, he was in coma. Who gave poison to Jon Arryn? "A sweet old friend."(Lysa and LF). Varys calls Lancel as "sweet boy" And Tyrion too in second book. He almost died in Battle of Blackwater and he may die in the future. Dany's wine was described as "sweet" The wine was poisonous. Drogo's wound smeel "sweet" He died. Jorah even gave Dany a sweet peach. Just like the Renly and Stannis scene (both brothers are dead, will die) (These are just a few examples, more dozens. https://www.reddit.com/r/asoiaf/comments/cr8me0/a_death_mark_in_asoiaf_sweet_spoiler_main/ )

If we pack it all up, Jon Snow will have a direct or indirect stake in Dany's death in the future. So, Jon Snow = dead for Dany.

No one can draw ship theory from such a fate.

> These quotes make a subtle connection between Dany and Val. Jon as we know is very attracted to Val. He first describes Val’s hair as pale silver; Dany of course has pale silver hair. In fact it is one of the most distinguishing features about her. So the connection here is that Val is a substitute for Dany. Also, note that the moon is mention, which as we know is strongly connected symbolically to Dany throughout the series, ex. “Moon of my Life”.

Val's hair is blond. Just once looked like silver hair because of moon. Okay, this is a second level argument. Available.

Dany's contact with the moon covers her relationship with Drogo only in book 1. No one except Drogo calls him "my moon" and has no reference to the moon in the future. So we cannot say that there is a "very strong" moon reference. Ned also calls Arya "the moon" in the first book. By showing this; Can we say Arya = Moon? No, this alone cannot be used. However, for 5 books, Arya has many moon references, unlike Dany. (https://www.reddit.com/r/asoiaf/comments/eo3ghb/arya_stark_and_braavos_moon_and_water_spoiler/ )

This alone does not matter. The word moon shows signs similar to death as the word "sweet".Even though it does not cover all the words of the moon, there has been a death many times before or after the moon appears. Moon Door is a dead place, the moon and moonlight are mentioned all over the place in AGOT’s prologue. The Others appear after a half-moon rises, and there are multiple references to the moonlight reflecting off the Other’s blade. There is a moon icon all over the FM house, even at the door. FM = death. Braavos is a moon city from the beginning. They are enemy of Valyria and dragon lords, and probably all Braavos played a role in the Doom of Valyria (with FM) So Drogo called Dany all the time “my moon” and Dany killed him with a pillow.

That's why it's hard to use the Val and Jon scene for Dany and Jon. At least we can't use it for Jonerys.

What does the moon and sweet weather mean for Val? Death. Twice a death mark. (Jon smelled sweet in book 5 before he died.)

> In these quotes we find a connection between a dream lover of Dany and Jon Snow. In her dream/vision Dany’s lover is a comely young man whose face is hidden in shadows. Jon is described by Ygritte as having a sweet face (comely) and in the two additional quotes below we see Jon describe himself as being in the shadows and we see Mel describe his face as hidden in shadows. These descriptions associate the young lover Dany sees with Jon Snow.

Maybe it's available but I'm not so sure. This sound a bit like a pushing.

The word dream used in the quote of Dany is not a dream seen asleep. This word is a dream used to imagine. Something you do consciously while awake. Here, Dany naturally (awake) dreams of a younger and handsome man for herself. Jorah is old and ugly for him. The word shadow comes naturally from Dany not thinking about a particular man. Because there is no type of man she desires around. Already later she met Daario and found the man she desired. That shade now has a face, and Dany fell in love with him. She constantly thinks about him, and we even see Dany thinking about him in her last POV. (Just like Jon thinks about Arya and Rhaegar thinks about Lyanna. ;) )

> Although the timeline is unclear, Jon was stabbed and presumably killed within the same time that Dany found herself alone in the Dothraki sea. Dany hearing the wolf howl could be the author making a connection between Jon’s death and how Dany would feel about it.

>If Dany knew who Jon was to her, his death would be incredibly sad but most importantly it would be lonely. Jon of course is Dany’s last living relative, although she does not know this. That this wolf howl brought such strong emotions to Dany is definitely something of interest.

Jonsa fandoms also used the same argument. Sansa heard a howl of wolf, and they interpreted it for the same thing. Which of you is correct to interpret?

I'll say it. None of you. There is one to four months between Jon's death and the scenes of these two characters. Another important detail is that in the scene where Jon is dead, the Ghost is not howling in any way and making a sad voice.

In the second book, Jon has the Bran scene, and the Ghost is howling sad and long. A few chapters later, Arya hears the howl of the wolf, which is described in the same words while in Harrenhall. (Here: https://www.reddit.com/r/asoiaf/comments/5cw18j/spoilers_extended_something_strange_about_aryas/d9zw29r/ )

> There would have been a sixth, but the Usurper’s dogs had murdered her brother’s son when he was still a babe at the breast. If he had lived, I might have married him. “

Yes, Young Griff is probably is fake Targaryen and Rhaegar’s son is Jon. But this level 3 argument doesn't mean anything for the Jonerys ship alone.

Dany is not talking about a love subject here, but a traditional “political” Targ marriage. We also see in the same book that Rhaegar's son has a character named Aegon, and he is(was) coming to her to marry Dany. So it's all about the two character stories that Dany and we think are real Aegon ... We will not see a happy marriage anyway, as we know Dany's arc end. So this argument is invalid for Jonerys in any way. (Even if we assume that Jon is in psychology who can marry his aunt)

Most likely, all that is done is the GRRM throwing a fishing rod to us(Dany-Aegon.. or not and we can see those two can marry, maybe, i do not know. Not sure when i think about Euron, whatever).

> Here the author winks and nods at us as Jon is wishing for the very same thing Dany has, three dragons.

> “He might as well wish for another thousand men, and maybe a dragon or three.”

Yes, I smile when I read this scene. I just couldn't understand how you interpreted this for Jonerys. It's hard to say even a level 3 argument. It seems a little bit of pushing again.

Jon asked for 1000 men and then he took it, Jon also asked for 3 dragons. Maybe he will take all Dany's dragons? He's a Targaryen and probably a powerful warg. He can take it all for himself. Or as a matter of "alliance" for the danger of the Other, it is more correct to accept it as a weapon. Already, at first, Jon wanted 1000 men for defense, just as he wanted to defend all three dragons. There is no romantic reference from this.

> Finally, this pair of quotes is both a parallel and a connection between Dany and Jon. Both find themselves laying next to the person they love/are attracted to, as Jon ponders his lost of Ghost and Dany wakes from her nightmare not even the presence of these people they care about can drive the deep loneliness that they both feel.

Parallel scenes can be used as arguments. Sometimes level 2, level 3 ... However, they do not make sense on their own.

Remember, level 2 arguments are to support level 1 strong arguments, but there is no level 1 argument. You put forward one, but that is also completely misinterpretation.

Parallel scenes do not mean anything by themselves, because logically all characters have parallel scenes, life stories. Jon and Arya; Arya and Dany; Jon and Tyrion; Dany-Tyrion-Jon and Dany-Arya ... this is how it goes. For example Arya and Dany   https://www.reddit.com/r/asoiaf/comments/ew2z2y/ice_and_fire_two_sides_of_a_coin_spoiler_main/ and even Dany and Davos: https://www.reddit.com/r/asoiaf/comments/gj1wnp/spoilers_extended_a_big_parallel_between_davos/ Should we call a new ship “Daverys”? :D 

Parallel scenes may be a reference, but never a FS. “You are going to marry a King...” This can be FS. “My heart sometimes like a stone...” (Cat) is a FS. Sweet and Moon signs maybe can be a FS.

If this is the case, we can produce ship theories for all characters by looking at all these parallel scenes. There are too many parallel scenes between Arya and Bran. Shall we write another incest ship theory? For example, we can make a very crazy romantic ship theory between Dany and Arya, their life stories and their psychological developments are so similar to each other .. it's almost hard not to say their fate is one. Jon and Arya have similar parallel events too. If we can say Jonerys, we can say JonArya, right? How many characters will Jon have a romantic relationship with? I hope I was able to explain what I mean?

I have read the pov of Jon and Dany many times. I could not see a FS that there would be a romantic relationship between these two. If something is going to happen between two important characters, we cannot say that GRRM does not mark it. He does that. When I read Sansa povs, many signs for SanSan are laid before me without the need for a search. Or Jonarya signs.

First of all, it is necessary to wait for an infrastructure for a love relationship. Foreshadowing sentences are a sign for events that will happen, but is there any meaning unless there is character and story development?

In his speech, Jon and Ygritte, we saw that Jon had no problem with his love affair with foster sibling if he had no blood ties. So have we seen Jon volunteer to have a relationship with his own aunt? No. He can never be comfortable with incest because he wasn't raised that way.

This could happen without Jon knowing his identity, you might think. Just like in the show ... Possible. But we know that Dany will come in the 7th book, and they will probably meet in the middle of the book at the earliest. If you especially believe that the 2nd Dance will be between Dany and Aegon, the other kind seems hard to me.

So I'm asking, when will Jon learn about his real identity? At the end of the book? It is not possible. He needs to learn either at the end of Book 6 or at the beginning of Book 7. For his other danger, Jon is the real weapon and leader ... His family history will be his strength and superiority in this war. That's why he needs to know. Lord Reed knows everything, he will warn and inform Jon about everything. So when Jon meets Dany, he will either have learned his identity or will learn soon after meeting. So it's hard to wait for Jon to have a romantic relationship with a Dany. Another issue is that when these two characters meet, there is no suitable environment and time to form a love relationship between the two. Others have come and war has begun, death is everywhere and will these two find time to fall in love? Will it be possible to develop a story in this way? How? This book is not written by D&D, so let's not expect a disgrace like the show's script.

Thank you for read(Sorry for may bad English).

[orangeflavoryawp]

Jonsa - “A Violence Done Most Kindly”, Part 1

Alright, it’s here.  I’m fucking doing it.  This is my Jonsa tour de force, my magnum opus.  My ultimate fix-it fic.

This is going to be a Season 7/8 AU. To summarize the major plot points up until now, this 'verse branches out roughly post Battle of the Bastards in canon, the mass murder of the Freys by Arya still stands, Cersei has been killed but her murderer hasn't been determined yet, Daenerys has only just landed in Westeros, the occupation/battle over Riverrun never happened as the Freys were slaughtered beforehand, and both Edmure and Brynden Tully are still alive, Bran found his way to Winterfell while Jon and Sansa dealt with ruling the North and preparing for a war with the dead, as well as the shifting power dynamics in Westeros now that Cersei has died. This story also assumes established Jonsa. Soft E. Dark. Politics and magic and murder and sex. That's essentially the gist of it.

I HIGHLY recommend that you read 'Bruises' before getting into this. It serves as a prequel of sorts, and it's only a one-shot so it reads pretty quickly. 'Bruises' really helps to set up the tone of where Jonsa is at the start of this fic.

“A Violence Done Most Kindly”

Chapter One: Hunger

"There is an old sort of magic to sacrifice, after all." - Jon and Sansa. Stark is a house of many winters.

Read it on Ao3 here.

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 fin

* * *

It would be a lie to say that Sansa understands Cersei now – here at the end.

           Here where she warms her brother’s bed.

           Sansa imagines Cersei looked at Ser Jamie like this once, watching him in his sleep beside her.  Or perhaps not.  Perhaps theirs was always a quick, furtive fuck.  A blinding instant of lust and need, smothered in dark alcoves and behind garish tapestries, a secret, silent thing – clawing at them from the inside.

           Perhaps they’ve never slept the night through beside each other.

           Perhaps she regretted it – gurgling out his name while she choked on her own blood.

           Sansa reaches up to trace a hand down the side of Jon’s face, trailing past his jaw, along the cords of muscle flexing in his throat beneath her touch, whispering down his chest as he groans to wakefulness.  She slips her hand to his growing hardness with a surety that might have been foreign to the little dove Cersei once knew.

           But then, maybe that is also a lie.

           “Sansa,” he groans, head thrown back along the pillow, voice rough with sleep and desire.

           She braces her lips to his neck, imagines the rush of blood just beneath her mouth – pulls him from slumber with a selfish, desperate yearning she does not regret.  “I need you,” she breathes into his skin, teeth sinking down.

           Jon growls his answer, grabbing her by the hair, yanking her head back and kissing her hungrily.  He turns her easily, bracing her back along the bed as he covers her with his weight, already hard and ready in her hand.

           Some small part of her wishes Cersei had been her kill.  A different, equally intense part of her, is relieved beyond words that she isn’t – that she would never be, now.

           But more than that – more than a vengeful wrath she’s spent too long feeding to ever be free of hunger, to ever be satisfied with a mere raven scroll and the somber, even way Bran announces the news – more than that –

           She just needs Jon.

      ��    “Come back to me,” she whispers against his mouth, moving with him in the dark.

           No, she doesn’t think she’ll ever understand Cersei.

           But as she feels Jon slip inside her, as she cradles his groan in the hollow of her throat, as she catches her lips at his temple – she thinks she doesn’t need to.

           It’s a different hunger she feeds now, after all.

* * *

           Sansa recognizes the sound of Baelish’s footsteps well before he’s made it to her side.  He slinks like shadow easily enough across stone and wood and dirt, but here in the godswood, trudging through snow in the womb of winter, his steps are almost awkward, clunky.

           He does not belong here.  She knows this now with a certainty she hasn’t felt in years.

           “My lady, I had hoped to find you here.”

           Sansa only sighs, glancing away from the red weirwood leaves to meet his gaze over her shoulder.  She offers a silent nod in greeting.

           Baelish makes his way toward her, smoothing his hands over his robe when he settles beside her.  “You have not forgotten what we spoke of when last I found you here, I should hope.”

           Sansa tugs her furs tighter around her shoulders, eyes drifting back to the weirwood branches.  “How could one forget?”

           “Yes,” he murmurs, eyes drifting down her face and trailing the length of her throat.

           She tries not to swallow, not to give notice of her discomfort.  He takes a step closer.  She resolutely does not take one back.

           “This is a very crucial time for us, Sansa, you must know that.”

             “Cersei is dead,” she says in answer, and she thinks maybe it should feel different along her tongue.  Lighter, perhaps.  Sweeter. Instead, it’s nothing but a stringent tartness.

           “Yes, and by whose hand?  None of my people seem to know the answer to that, except for whispers of faceless girls. Dead end gossip.”  He looks at her out of the corner of his eye, appraising.

           Sansa gives him nothing to appraise.  “Is that what matters right now?”

           He stays quiet a moment, and then, “It is, until we can ascertain whose side her murderer is on.”

           Another silence.  Sansa stretches a gloved hand out to catch the faint flecks of snow falling from the branches.

           “We can’t let this opportunity pass us by.  Cersei’s death has lead to infighting amongst the houses.  King’s Landing is in near shambles with no discernible sovereign.  Qyburn has fled without the support of his queen.  The Mountain hasn’t been seen since reports of Cersei’s death. Citizens are fleeing to the other kingdoms as we speak, and even Daenerys Targaryen has seen the uselessness in conquering King’s Landing at this point.”

           She knows this.  She knows this already and she’s tired of hearing it.  It only ever ends one way.

           Baelish reaches for her, grasping her arms and turning her to face him, his gentleness forced and rushed – a falsity.  Sansa blinks up at him.

           “We have to consolidate power.  If we wait too long, this chaos will be of no help to us.”

           “Then go.”

           Baelish furrows his brow at her answer, his fingers flexing along her elbows.

           She swallows tightly, face a blank visage.  “Go to King’s Landing then.  Consolidate.”  She lifts her chin.  “Go.”

           His throat flexes, poison tongue pressing back behind pursed lips.

           “You can’t, can you?” she asks, not unkindly.  “Because your power lies here.  With me.  And with the Vale.  You can’t abandon either of us without giving yourself a disadvantage.”

           “Sansa.”  It’s almost a warning.  As much a warning as Baelish ever gives – all smooth tones and invaded intimacy.  His head inclines toward hers.

           “Jon won’t go South.  Not for that.”  She extracts herself from his hold slowly, gently, without offense.

           Baelish smacks his lips, a minute flicker of irritation crossing his eyes, but it’s all he will allow her to see of his disturbance.  “The King can be persuaded.”

           “Not in this.  The dead occupy him on all sides.  He won’t play the game.”

           “Not even for you?”

           Sansa doesn’t think too long on the way his eyes flick to her lips for a fraction of a second.  “You overestimate my influence.”

           “Oh, I think not,” he says lowly, a curl to his lip that reminds her of purple-faced boy-kings and hound-fed bastards.

           No, he does not belong here.  Not in the white and cold and wind of home.  Not here where her mother used to brush her hair and her father used to beg her hand to dance and her brothers played their knightly parts in her tales dutifully.  Not here where she had wanted to bury Lady those many years ago.

           Wanted, and never could.

           Sansa realizes suddenly, that Winterfell is not yet free.

           And neither is she.

* * *

           In the wake of Cersei’s death, the ensuing vacuum of power nearly cripples the kingdoms, with the remainder of the Lannister forces rallying behind a mourning, vengeful Ser Jaime, intent on securing the Reach and the Stormlands. Dorne wastes no time to declare its independence from the Seven Kingdoms entirely, and shortly after the suspicious slaughter of the Freys by unseen Northern hands both the Riverlands and the Vale swear to the North under the threat of a coming dragon queen.

           Jon has no time for such politics.

           Sansa rails against him openly in the Hall of Lords, demanding his attention to the ensuing fight for the crown, but the dead take precedence in everything he brings to court, and it’s not long before ravens are sent to all corners of Westeros begging aid in the coming fight.

           Bran watches placidly, neither arguing for or against either of them. Sansa would call him not unlike a piece of furniture if she hadn’t better manners, and most days her pleads for his council lands on deaf ears.  She ends most gatherings of the lords rife with frustration and nearly frothing at the mouth.

           She doesn’t need to glance at Baelish to know the look he gives her.

           “You think just because Cersei is dead that we are free from the South? That they will not land their hooks into every inch of the North until we are chained to them once more?” Sansa seethes, shutting her door once Jon is through it.

           Jon heaves an unsteady breath, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. “That’s not what I think, and you know it,” he grits out, sending a dark look her way.  “Stop twisting my words.”

           “Then stop ignoring mine.”

           “I’m not!”  He stalks toward her, stops before he can do anything else.  His hands itch at his sides.  “Sansa, we can’t keep this up – this back-and-forth.  We can’t afford such a divide, not now.”

           Sansa takes a purposeful breath, hands folding before her.  “I’m with you, Jon, I am but – ”

           “Are you?  Sometimes I wonder.”  He can’t help the scoff that leaves him.  He stares at her, keeps her gaze a moment longer, and then he’s turning to the far window, a hand raking over his face.  He’s just so tired, suddenly.

           Sansa is deadly still.  So still he can’t even hear the rustle of her skirts on the cold stone at their feet – can’t pick up the scrape of air she pulls through anger-fused lungs.

           “And how is your show of the dead going with the other kingdoms, hmm?” she bites out.

           Jon snaps his head to her, his eyes narrowing so quickly she might have missed it.

           Sansa takes a step toward him.  “Are they simply jumping to aid us?  Are they gathering the entire might of their forces, marching the sum of their armies North, all on your word?”  Something sharp glints in her gaze and Jon swallows his reply back instantly. She scoffs, head thrown back.  And then her eyes are eerily blue on his – instantly staggering him.  “And have I ever demanded evidence?  Have I ever once denounced your claims of the rising dead before the lords?”

           Jon has no answer.  None that would satisfy, at least.

           Something in her softens at his silence, another step taken toward him. “I’ve never asked you to prove anything to me, Jon.”

           Jon, she calls him – always.

           (There was never anything to prove between them, after all.)

           Jon closes his eyes, takes a long, deep breath, exhales just as evenly. When he opens his eyes, she’s still there.  Still copper-crowned and winter-poised.  Still every inch his sister.

           And every inch not.

           He thinks maybe it’s a sickness – this craving of his.

           Jon steps into her, the stiff silence descending upon them like a cloak. He’s so close.  He’s so unbearably close, and even though he has yet to touch her, the heat suffuses him – a stifled winter, a burrowing need.

           He can see the way her chest heaves at the sudden proximity.

           (She’s always been his, even when she won’t admit to it.)

           Jon thrums a tentative hand along her side, fingers grazing the line of her hip.

           Her tongue darts out to wet her lips.

           It’s a lost cause, he knows.  Since the moment she opened her door to him, this was only ever going to end one way.

           “I know you’re with me,” he tells her on an exhale, roiled in heat.

           She arches a single, fine brow.  “Do you? Sometimes I wonder.”  She almost smacks her lips with self-satisfaction.

           A low snarl eases from his lips, his hand bunching in her dress, dragging her to him.  She lets him, hands alighting on his chest.  He leans into her, nuzzling his temple to hers, breath ragged already.

           She makes it so easy.

           He’s already panting for her.

           (She makes it so hard.)

           “Sansa,” he groans out, fingers trembling as they reach for her laces.

           She takes his face in her hands, pulls him back until his eyes are locked with hers.  He doesn’t still his unlacing of her.  He couldn’t even if he tried.

           So unbearably close.

           (He just needs to touch her.)

           “You lose one war, you lose them all,” she tells him, arching against him.

           She’s right, he knows.  She’s right, and yet –

           She comes undone so easily in his hands – they need to stop ending their arguments this way.

           Because this – the splendid way she hisses beneath his tongue and the subtle way she arches into his hands and the ragged pant of his name (his name) along her bruising lips – is a war they can’t afford to lose.

           (This is a war they haven’t even begun to fight, not truly – not by the light of day.)

           “I’m with you,” she whispers against his mouth, and he knows.

           He knows, he knows, he knows.

           And even still –

           Some wars aren’t about who’s right.  They’re only about who’s left.

* * *

           Arya returns to Winterfell in the dead of night.  Ghost clambers to wakefulness at the foot of Jon’s bed, the sharp rap on his door jolting him from sleep.

           It’s Davos at his door.  “In the hall, Your Grace,” he says, and nothing more.

           Jon rushes from the room, following his Hand and the faint shadows Davos’ torch casts along the walls.  When he turns the next corridor, he sees Sansa emerging from her own chambers, Brienne at her side.  Her sworn shield tugs the fallen slip of Sansa’s robe over her lady’s bared shoulder at Jon’s presence, and the motion does not go unnoticed.

           “What is it?” Sansa hisses in the night.

           He shakes his head, throat parched.

           It happens moments later.

           It happens when they breach the shadowed hall.  It happens when Arya turns from her appraisal of the room, eyes a slate grey that should be comforting, familiar – but are only haunting.  She is perfectly still in the filtering moonlight through the tall windows.  She is perfectly winter-poised (an eerie reflection of the sister beside him, and distantly, he wonders if either of them knew they’d ever grow to be thus).

           It’s a crack, a fissure – a lung-scraping quake that sunders through the silent hall.  

Ghost is the first to break the stillness, trotting up to Arya with an ease that staggers Jon’s heart in his chest.  But Arya smiles – smiles – and it’s a faint curl of her lips, before she’s bending like reeds in the wind, reaching for the direwolf’s great maw and threading her fingers through his thick fur, hands gliding over Ghost’s face and ears and neck.  Something of sorrow and fondness sweeps over her face then. “Hey, boy.  You’ve been keeping watch for me?”

           Jon is breaking toward her then, something splintering inside him he hasn’t a name for, and then she’s in his arms, and he’s lifting her up, up, and up, her feet off the ground, her arms around his neck, his broken gasp of her name smothered in her hair, and he’s trembling, absolutely shaking against her, absolutely shattered – here, to be here – with his little sister in his arms.  He holds her for an immeasurable amount of time, for eons and epochs and yet he’d hold her still, if only he could.  It never seems enough.

           Jon dips her back to the floor, breathless, glancing back at Sansa, and he stills suddenly at the way she stares at them.

           Arya keeps a hand at Jon’s elbow, her smile receding.  A soft, keen quiet overtakes her.  Her eyes shine with tears.  “Hello, Sansa.”

           Sansa takes a step, hand outreaching, and then stops herself.  She takes a sudden breath, and Jon is too overcome to think much of it, so he braces a hand at the small of Sansa’s back, urging her toward their sister.

           He doesn’t catch the way Arya’s eyes trail the intimate motion of his hand.

           “Arya.”  Sansa’s voice catches, and then she’s stumbling into her, arms wide, drawing her little sister to her chest.

           Arya’s eyes shutter closed for a moment, breathing something of relief against Sansa’s breast, her hands fisting in her robe at her back, but then she’s blinking those grey, haunting eyes open to Jon.

           He feels cracked open.  Bloody and bare.  Jon swallows the trepidation back.

           Their sister is returned.

           His hand burns beneath the memory of Sansa’s heat at his fingertips.

* * *

           Arya knows.

           She knows, Sansa thinks when she catches the derision in her little sister’s eyes from across the courtyard.  Somehow, she knows.

           Sansa steps purposely away from Jon as they walk together below the ramparts.

           He furrows his brows at the motion, a hand going to her elbow.  “Sansa,” he begins.

           She huffs her frustration, staying his hand.

           He’s always been terrible at pretenses.

           “Our sister is watching,” she mutters beneath her breath pointedly, and she can see the way his spine straightens, the way his shoulders stiffen.

           She is Sansa Stark.  And he is Jon Snow.  And not for the first time has she lamented this – though perhaps not so much as now.

           Now when he is close enough to touch and yet the chasm widens ever farther.

           This chasm called honor.

           (But there is nothing honorable about the ways in which he touches her in the dark of night.)

           Jon is silent for long moments, before he comes to an abrupt halt at the edge of the courtyard.  Sansa turns to find him staring at his boots, brows furrowed.  He heaves a sigh, a calloused hand wiping down his face, and then he’s turning swiftly, walking back the way they came.  Sansa watches him go, something constricting in her chest not unlike grief.  She looks back across the courtyard to see Arya still watching her.  Her jaw locks, her barred teeth caught behind perfectly poised lips.

           There are some things Arya will never know, she reminds herself.

           She will never know the way Jon’s eyes grow dark by candlelight, or the way his throat flexes beneath the press of her tongue, or the tremble that racks through him when she slips to her knees at the edge of his bed, bracketed by his thighs.

           And perhaps there is something secret and selfish still living in her. Perhaps there is a part of her that revels in the knowledge that while she may not be the favorite sister, she is the only sister who can drag such whines from his throat, who can reduce him to pleading, who can have him panting and desperate as he throws his head back, hand curling in her copper tresses as he pushes her mouth down on his length, hips thrusting shallowing up to meet her.

           No, Sansa reminds herself.  Arya will never know the dark visage of Jon when the last of his control snaps, when he’s pouring filth from his mouth too base even for brothels, when he’s rutting into her mouth like something feral, spilling hot and frenzied down her throat as he growls her name through clenched teeth, over and over and over again.

           No. Arya will never know the way he looks at her in the aftermath, the way he curls a quaking hand along the curve of her jaw, thumb brushing over her mouth in something perhaps too feverish to be called tender, but just as searing.

           She thinks this when she departs from the courtyard.

           She thinks this when she feels Arya’s gaze following along her back.

           She thinks this when she closes the latch behind her to Jon’s door that night.

* * *

           “You’re our brother,” Arya says like a demand.  “You’re her brother.”  It comes out slightly searing this time.

           Jon grips at the mantle over the hearth, his back to her.  “I still am.”

           “How could you be?”  Her scoff is lined with something faintly like disgust.

           Jon closes his eyes at the sound.  He draws a deep breath in, lets it to air.

           Arya shifts somewhere behind him.  “Robb would never have touched her so.”

           “Aye, and Robb isn’t the brother she begs for at night, is he?” he spits just as harshly, whirling on her.  He realizes what he says a moment before he catches the look that passes over her face.

           It’s not a look she’s ever directed at him before.

           Jon swallows thickly, the words dying in his throat.

           Arya looks away, lips pursed tight.  She’s so utterly still.  This whole while, her entire time at Winterfell, she’s been nothing but stillness.

           Jon wants to shake her suddenly, just to know she’s still there.  Just to know he isn’t the only one missing what they used to be.

           He has to tear his gaze from her – has to focus on the lick of flames in the hearth, the flare of copper too familiar to cool this rancid heat in him. “But I’m not Robb, am I?” he whispers, almost like regret, almost like penitence.

           (Almost, but not quite.)

           “No,” Arya answers, so low he might have imagined it.  “No, you’re not.”

           He isn’t sure what it is he hears in her voice, and he doesn’t have the heart to turn to her then, to see for himself, to know the damning censure of her gaze, even when her voice is indiscernible.  

           She leaves him then, the heavy door of his solar sliding shut with a nauseating finality.

           She doesn’t even leave a shadow.

           (But he thinks he should have expected this.  He thinks he should have expected a lot of things.)

* * *

           Jon has known the permanence of betrayal, the way it sinks into your marrow until you are rife with it, until the sharp tang of it has festered long and sour beneath your tongue, until it is behind every look over the shoulder and every false greeting.

           Jon sneaks a glance at Sansa beside him, catches the upturn of her chin while she listens to Lord Glover in the Hall of Lords, the resolute crispness of her blue gaze as she sits regally at the head table.

           His hand strays to the ends of her furs hanging over the arm rest.  He catches the material between his thumb and forefinger, a small comfort.  An anchor in the storm.

           He glances back out across the hall.  All eyes are on Sansa.  All but a lone, accusing pair.

           Jon catches Arya’s glare from across the hall, nearly missing her lithe frame amidst the shrouding shadows of the Stark banners.  The flicker of torchlight is not enough to obscure her frown.

           His hand slips from the edge of Sansa’s furs beneath the table, his throat dry with an apprehension he’s never felt before.

           They sit staring at each other for long moments – everything and nothing passing between them – the lords airing their complaints and their needs like a fog around him.

           “Do you agree, Your Grace?”

           Sansa’s voice comes to him like a gale.

           Jon snaps his gaze to her, blinking rapidly.

           He suddenly remembers.

           He remembers that Sansa has seen the evidence of betrayal marring his skin. She’s seen the gashes along his chest and not withheld her touch.  She’s smothered his sobs of recollection to her breast when he’s recounted the nooses – the way their feet swayed in the wind like a condemnation.

           Sansa has never been party to his betrayal.

           Sansa will never be his betrayal.

           His fingers search for the ends of her furs once more, gripping tightly beneath the cover of the table – no longer an anchor, but the thing that drowns him.

           “Aye,” he agrees, never needing to know what he agrees to.

           Sansa eyes him with something of sharpness.

           Jon looks back across the hall.  Arya is gone.

           He does not relinquish his hold.

* * *

{“Why did you bring her here?”

           Bran looks up at Sansa’s question.  It is a face she used to know once – but not anymore. She holds tight to this image of her brother like sand sifting through her fingers. She wonders if it is not perhaps easier to simply let him fall.

           She looks away finally, her hands gripping at her skirts.

           The hearth spits another log to cinders before them, and she thinks he means to keep this damn silence always, until, “Because she is needed.”}

[22drunkb]

Some thoughts about Bran Stark

Okay, so--not to butt in and trample around, as someone who never read the books and stopped watching the show sometime around season 3--but the thing is, I feel like the ending has finally allowed me to understand exactly what it was that turned me off Game of Thrones, which I never quite did put my finger on till now, and I want to at least write it out once. (Ironically, this has made me like the story better, though not its execution.) To attempt a spoiler-free summary: I’m going to be thinking about the thematic structure of the story and why that should make certain things make sense, and how they came to not make sense anyway.

The thing is, thematically and structurally, Bran ending up king makes absolute and perfect sense. It’s just that they didn’t write the story in line with the structure they were given. The problem with the show is--and always has been--that the writers don’t actually understand what “subverting fantasy tropes” means or could look like, and they don’t care about it in any meaningful way. What they care about is doing big, bloodthirsty, quasi-historical fiction with a lot of nudity. (See: the Civil War show they wanted to do.) And Bran’s whole situation only makes sense (or would have made sense, if executed properly) in the context of high fantasy.

Keeping in mind that complicating high fantasy tropes was an important part of what Martin reportedly set out to do, each of the Stark kids (the story’s backbone) had a clear thematic purpose. Each of them a) was a take on a trope, b) had a clear character trajectory that would allow that take on the trope to be developed while functioning as a working character arc, and c) through that trope-inflected arc, could allow the audience a window into specific part of the society (i.e., they supported the worldbuilding), which in turn allowed the further development of these takes on the tropes by giving them specific, appropriate settings and side characters to bounce off of. This is to say that GRRM did a good job setting himself up to do “trope subversion” in a way that would comment on the things he wanted to comment on, function as part of a larger world and story, and help support a plot that would be in harmony with all of the above. This is one very solid approach to character design. To be clear, despite this paragraph being about characters, I’m talking about themes--it has nothing to do with their personalities or whatever. This is about what ideas come together in the concept of each character and therefore how each character’s story develops the ideas.

A good reason to approach character design in this way is if you have set out to subvert, complicate, comment on, or otherwise mess with genre tropes. To do so, the characters have to themselves be tropes, or at least be designed in close relation to tropes, in order to derange them. So like, just to take the simplest two examples:

Robb: The Prince. Firstborn, shining favorite, destined to inherit. Set up (normally) to avenge his father, restore order to his kingdom, and go home. Bungles it entirely by seeking true love; meanwhile, in the course of his story we learn about the regional politics of the North, the politics of alliances by marriage and kinship, etc. Narratively, his failure allows the entire political and military situation to get infinitely more clusterfucked. All of those pieces fit together well thematically.

What is being subverted here is the prince’s marital destiny. We have loads of fairy and fantasy stories about prince and prince-types for whom pursuing true love just happens to be convenient (they can marry whoever they want), or whose pursuits of love are rescued by fate (his true love turns out to be his promised princess all along! She’s secretly a magical being of some sort, and that trumps betrothal agreements! The one he was originally supposed to marry died or decided to marry someone else! etc). This is totally kosher in traditional high fantasy (or in the folklore that the genre draws on) because it’s an expression of the harmony of the story-world; the characters go through their trials and adventures and end with a resolution in the form of marriage that announces that all is as it should be. What it looks like GRRM set out to do is ask what happens when people still follow those rules and the rules aren’t in harmony with the world they live in.

In particular, the entire thing points square at the fact that princes are political animals. It seems to me that Robb’s story was meant to say, well, actually, sometimes people with power just have to marry people they don’t love as a condition of being powerful (which comes up constantly throughout the whole show). After Ned and Catlyn, basically every “true love” couple is dysfunctional, incestuous (Cersei and Jaime, Daenerys and John), and/or gets narratively stomped on, as far as I’m aware. (Did Sam and Gilly make it? If so, I think that’s allowed because they’re commoners.) Ironically, Ned and Catlyn set Robb up to fuck up by modeling one of these convenient political-and-true-love marriages. He thought he was supposed to be allowed to have it all. He was wrong. The end. Next. But the show seemed to expect me to feel that the outcome was unjust and tragique for Their Love, when all that was unjust and tragique about it was that Robb was idiot enough to bring the consequences of his actions on his entire group of followers. That is the point. That his status has to constrain his behavior, and when it doesn’t it has consequences for others. The status itself is what’s being problematized.

Jon: The Secret Heir. Second-oldest, bastard-born, treated with contempt. In relation to the family, literally a supplementary person. Set up (normally) to be rediscovered as the true heir to the throne and end up as king (moving from the margins to the center; getting the acceptance he couldn’t have as a bastard). The twist is the “true” dynasty he represents is composed of inbred lunatics, and his potential access to the throne goes not only via that bloodline but via repeating their tradition of incest. Dovetailing nicely with that, he was set up from the start as less wanting access to the kinship system than wanting to be free of it, so instead of becoming king by virtue of being a Targaryen, he stops the reinstatement of the Targaryen line altogether. Meanwhile, for most of his story, as a “supplementary person” he gives the audience a view into a lot of corners of Westeros that are concerned with what is excluded from Westeros: the Night’s Watch, the Wildlings, and indeed the White Walkers.

Again, all of that lines up together well. It’s part of the larger derailment of the blood-as-destiny notion of a “true” king, heir, ruling dynasty, etc. (I think the main reason GRRM goes so hard on the incest, not to mention having not one but THREE bastard characters, is in service of this; it also means Jon’s character arc of wanting out of the bloodline system fits into the thematic structure. See? Everything ties together neatly.) But I mean. We all know the character was not executed well.

And so on. I could do the same for Sansa and all the rest of them. (Sansa and Arya are probably the two most successful executions of what their character designs set them up to do; it’s not a coincidence those are the characters whose stories people seem to be happiest with.) But the thing is, a lot of these tropes, while certainly common in high fantasy, are also found in lots of other genres. Chosen Ones and Unexpectedly Eligible Chosen Ones and Princesses and Warrior Maidens (whether in literal forms or not) show up all over the place. The fact that these aren’t strictly fantasy archetypes perhaps means they were less prone to being mishandled. Bran, though. Bran belongs firmly and only in high fantasy. He is, literally, supposed to be a magic priest-king. A take on the Fisher King, even (I’ll explain about that later). And his story was weighted toward the end because of what it seems like Martin was trying to do more broadly, meaning it was much more on the showrunners to do it right.

High fantasy is always trying in some way to engage with ~the numinous~, which is to say the sort of never-explainable mystery and magic of the world. Magic in high fantasy is usually closely tied to deep time, the land, nature, or the metaphysical. Ancient beings, lost secrets, nature spirits, hidden realms, that sort of thing. It’s part of the genre’s inheritance from the mythology and folklore it’s all based on, which had a much more enchanted, vitalist view of the world than we generally do now. (In a way, that’s the purpose for high fantasy’s existence as a modern genre--keeping some access to that.) What Martin set the whole story up to do was question the tropes that often go along with the genre by making the setting one in which almost everybody has forgotten about all the magic and mystical knowledge that is in their history. Westeros is an extreme, historicized take on the Shire, basically. (”English pastoralism you say? I’ll see you and raise you the English Civil War” -- George R.R. Martin, presumably.) They have no notion of what’s really out there and what’s really possible in the world, and have quite comfortably isolated themselves in a situation where they need not remember. As a result, the social institutions that were developed long ago in relation to the ancient magics and knowledges become, instead, just social norms that can be manipulated, distorted, and played out in a much more historical-fiction kind of fashion, which gives Martin lots of room to point out that, say, ironclad patriarchal bloodlines cause problems. (That is, if you take away any magical justification, by virtue of connection to the land or the spirit realm or what have you, for the right to rule, then you stop having to have your One True Kings also be good people. It allows him to pull apart the different pieces of that trope and suggest that their being connected in the first place is questionable. Which it is! He’s right and he should say it!)

But the magic has to come back at some point, or else it’s really not high fantasy. And it seems like what he wanted to do was have all these elements from outside Westeros--the White Walkers, that god whose name I’ve forgotten, and Daenerys with her dragons--converge on it such that the characters would have to go back to their deep history and call those things back up in order to deal with the real world they live in (instead of the wealthy political bubble of all the scheming) and thus get to a point where they could actually change their system for the better. You can think of it as a very elaborate deus ex machina in a way, except the deus ex machina isn’t Daenerys showing up with dragons to fight the White Walkers or Arya having trained (again, outside Westeros, for the record) just the right way for killing the Night King. It’s all of these external forces forcing the characters in Westeros to get their fucking shit together. Otherwise there’s really no resolution to the war, in a high fantasy version of the story. It’s just historical fiction with some weird bells and whistles. Without a need to go back and figure out whatever the First Men were up to, there’s no incentive to go back to the numinous. That he intended for sure that some version of a return of the numinous end up being a big part of the climax is reinforced for me by the fact that the Starks--again, the backbone of the whole story--are set up as being unusually in touch with this mystic/magical heritage (the old gods, the crypt, the godswood) and unusually faithful to the traditional ways. They were introduced that way for a reason.

So where does Bran come in. The thing is that Bran is literally named after the mythic founding king of Westeros, Bran the Builder. The other thing is that both of those Brans are clearly named after Bran the Blessed, a literal mythic god-king from Welsh mythology whose name means crow (but who for various reasons also often gets associated with ravens, which in turn are commonly associated with transcendent knowledge, magic, etc; it’s a long story). So you have a younger member of the story’s key Stark family, already closer to the sources of magic and mystery than most. You name him after the founder of Westeros who lived in a time of magic, traffic with other beings, and great building works and other inherited accomplishments for which the associated knowledge has since been lost, etc. You have him gain mystical abilities to transfer his consciousness to other bodies, or through time (absolutely typical Mystic Powers). You have him even take on a special priestly status passed down from the era of magic by leaving Westeros to hang out with other kinds of magical beings, which means he is now explicitly named both Bran and Raven.

OBVIOUSLY this kid is supposed to be king. He’s going to restore the realm to a situation in which the ruler, the realm, its various life forces and nature spirits, and the metaphysical are all connected to one another and, in a sense, present in the same body (which is the kind of genuine mythological shit high fantasy is always drawing on). But the writers then just sat around and did nothing with him for years on end until whoops hey he’s king now. Of course no one thinks it makes any sense!! It’s fucking malpractice!!!!

If you go to the GOT Wiki and just read Bran’s page, everything makes sense and lines up well in terms of a list of events. (Although it’s really notable how short the entry from s8 is, and how everything it lists is things that happen to Bran, pretty much.) There is a progression that makes sense. But from what I understand--this was certainly the situation when I stopped watching--nothing was ever done to suggest that any of this mattered. The Three-Eyed Raven, the forest spirits, the magics and so on--it was treated at most as a backstory machine. It had no connection to or effect on the rest of the story, so far as I can tell. The fact that none of this played into the battle with the White Walkers at all is flatly insane. The thing I most remember people saying about Bran after that episode wasn’t even “Why didn’t he use X or Y that he learned in the forest?” but “Why was he there?” which just goes to show how completely and utterly bungled this entire piece of the narrative was. Like, if your high fantasy story is making its audience ask “Why would the story put the one character with the greatest knowledge of ancient magics and powers at the scene of a battle against an all-but-forgotten ancient threat,” then I’m sorry, it has gone fully off the rails, and not just in its most recent season. That’s not subversion, it’s just fully dropping the ball.

You know what would make sense as a lead-in to Bran becoming king? Oh, his performing some spectacular feat of insight, magic, strategy, or all three at the battle that no one else could have pulled off because no one else had his background or powers. Even after years of screwing this part of the story over, that could at least have bothered to make a case for why any of it mattered to the rest of the story. It would not have been very subversive, but when you’ve fucked up this royally you don’t get to be precious about your radikal innovative approach, Davids. I can’t believe Peter Dinklage had to sit there and make a bullshit speech about storytelling, when a decently-handled story would have made it seem natural and self-evident by then (you can still have surprises along the way!) that Bran should be king.

Anyway, in closing: part of the reason I checked out when I did was that I felt like they weren’t doing the things I thought they should do as the story developed. Genuinely, one key part of that was that they seemed to be doing absolutely nothing with Bran, which was baffling to me because it seemed obvious to me he was set up to be an incredibly important character. At the time, I thought they were going somewhere close to this with Bran but just taking way too long at it for some reason. What’s now clear is that the showrunners didn’t understand what they should have been doing with him. (Everybody who was taken aback by this outcome is not a fool for not seeing this. They were, quite reasonably, following the narrative cues they were given along the way, all of which said “Bran doesn’t matter.” It’s maybe clearer to me because I stopped watching.) And what that now makes clear, in my opinion, is that they never really understood what Martin was trying to do by “subverting fantasy tropes”; that in fact they didn’t really understand the genre, let alone what subverting it entailed. Which is exactly what bothered me about it even years after I stopped watching, but couldn’t put my finger on--until, ironically, they proved me right about Bran.

[rainhalydia]

I wasn't in fandom at the time, so I'm curious about how you felt, as a Throbb shipper, about GRRM confirming Robb didn't love Theon as much as he loved Jon? And how did Throbb shippers in general feel about it?

Well, I can’t say how Throbb shippers in general felt. Not that happy, I’d guess? I can tell how I felt and still feel about it, though I didn’t see that interview until long after the fact so I didn’t catch any drama anyway. To sum it up: I don’t care.

A much longer, rambling word-vomit under the cut:

I think I summed up my feelings very exactly, but I kept thinking a lot about this ask and having lots of opinions, so here we go. I’ll preface this long-ass rant by saying I have no professional training in literary analysis. I just read a lot, overthink everything and had two classes in college about literature.

First of all, this tendency to give great weight - i.e., to care at all - about what writers have to say about their own work is completely foreign to me. I mean it literally - the main framework of literary analysis I’ve encountered throughtout my education was basically centered around the text, and I very much adopt it without even giving it conscious thought. I don’t seek out interviews, addendums, essays, anything at all. Sometimes I read it if they fall on my lap. Such was the case with this interview.

It’s not that writers don’t have things to say, or that those things are not interesting or valuable or sometimes shed a new light on their work. It’s that at the end of the day they’re not important! Only canon is canon. I don’t mean to sound snob or pedantic, like the books are law or something. And any canon has a number of valid interpretations (within limits), they’re not absolute, they allow some wiggle room. But any text needs by definition to stand on its own without writers poking their heads inside the room to say how we should interpret it. If we need imput from the writers to do it, then the text is already bad, it failed, sorry. Interpretation is the reader’s job. In fact, it’s the reader’s prerrogative.

Much of this hipe around authors, I believe, has to do with the rise of social media and how close to the public writers suddenly were. And I feel that applies especially for authors like Martin, who are very talented and have created a very rich world that has become really popular. And ASOIAF is still ongoing. It’s natural that everyone wants to pick at his brain and know where the story is going!

And here I make my second very unpopular point: authors are not specialists in their own work.

He knows more than anyone about it, certainly, and currently Martin is probably the only person who knows how things will end (though we have plenty of bare bones the show left), but he is, as he has admited himself, a gardener. The story was bound to get away from him, given his own writting style. The group of people who will be specialists on his work don’t include him, and they don’t even exist yet. They will only emerge when he’s stopped writing (so probably after his death) and his work has ended (if it was finished or not). Then people can read every single thing he has ever written, which is much more than ASOIAF, and analyse it to death, pick it apart from every single angle, the ones Martin intended to be there and the ones he didn’t.

Again, I don’t mean to come across as snobbish and say Martin does not know his own work, characters, creation, etc. He does! But no writer can leave all their biases behind when they start writing, so these books are not neutral to begin with. Add to it the lots and lots of variables readers will bring when they interpret the text, and any book is always going to be more than the author intends by default.

If my argument seems absurd, let me point out that it has already happened to a certain degree: my own interpretation from reading ASOIAF is that it is full of anti-war, anti-violence messages, and yet from it has sprung an adaptation that, in my own interpretation, glorifies war and violence to a ridiculous degree. I’m not alone in these opinions, btw. They’re pretty common in fandom spaces, so I’m sure I didn’t pull them out of thin air. We can argue until we’re blue in the face that the Ds can’t read anything for shit, they certainly don’t do themselves any favors, but you know, they interpreted the books well enough to correctly guess who was Jon’s mother and get permission to adapt it in the first place. I’ve since seen people (I’m not naming names, anyone still reading will just have to take my word for it, but I swear they do exist) defend that the show is a faithful adaptation of the books and that the glorification of war was there too, and others say that the show didn’t actually glorify war, it had an anti-war message! Who is wrong? Well, I don’t know. As I said, the GRRM’s specialists are yet to come, and I’m certainly not one of them. What I believe, however, is that all of us brought our own biases to the same text, interpreted it according to them, and came to different, often conflicting conclusions.

See also what GRRM said about the partnership between Jaehaerys and Alysanne and what most people made of their relationship from Fire and Blood. See the sept sex/rape scene controversy. See the Dany/Drogo controversy.

Do you get why I put little weight in Martin’s interviews to form my opinion? So given that and my own background, I’ll chose my own interpretation of the text rather than Martin’s apocrypha.

What does the book canon, and the book canon alone, say about Robb’s feelings for Theon? Well, unless new material is released, we’ll just never know for sure, because Robb isn’t a pov character. We do have Theon’s side of things - he has a certain affection for Robb, he’s more of a brother than his own brothers, he wishes he had died with him or at least that he had been there at the moment of Robb’s death, depending on how sincere he feels like being. We also know a little bit of what other characters thought of their relationship. Bran says Robb admired Theon and enjoyed his company, and it’s implied that he finds this baffling. He’s also jealous that Robb spends more time with Theon and other adults doing adult things than with his brothers. And though I’ve talked at lenght about interpretation and wiggle room to understand things, it’s also pretty evident that Robb is down to hear Theon talk about his sexual conquests in some detail as long as his brothers aren’t around.

Of course, Bran is a child and much as he loves Robb, their time together is cut short and Robb is not his main concern anyway. We get most material about Robb and Theon’s relationship from Cat’s pov. There’s a lot we can analyse and Damien had already done a great not-meta about it, but sadly he’s since deleted, thank you to the demons who got on his case, but for me the most damning piece of evidence that Robb feels very strongly for Theon is this:

“Robb will avenge his brothers. Ice can kill as dead as fire. Ice was Ned’s greatsword. Valyrian steel, marked with the ripples of a thousand foldings, so sharp I feared to touch it. Robb’s blade is dull as a cudgel compared to Ice. It will not be easy for him to get Theon’s head off, I fear. The Starks do not use headsmen. Ned always said that the man who passes the sentence should swing the blade, though he never took any joy in the duty.”

So to unpack what is going on: nearly drowing in grief, Cat rambles to Brienne about lots of things, including Theon’s impending death sentence. By Northern dumb tradition, Robb must be the one to behead Theon, his former best friend turned enemy, turned betrayer, turned brother-killer. And she says that it won’t be easy for him to do it.

Now, it can be argued that this is partly because of the sword. They’ve lost their sharp valyrian steel and Robb uses an inferior blade, not as sharp. I reject this interpretation as the only explanation (and here comes my own biases) because she mentions the headsman right after. A headsman might be more experienced, but it’s not like he’d have valyrian steel to do it either. Rather, I think she’s talking about how being able to pass Theon off to be killed by a headsman would be easier on Robb psychologically, but it’s not really an option, so Robb will have to suffer.

At this point, to Robb’s knowledge, Theon has: 1) betrayed his trust and used the ruse of negociations with Balon to escape; 2) attacked the northern shore and enslaved his people; 3) attacked and took control of his home; 4) made his brothers hostages; 5) killed his brothers; 6) denied his brothers the right to be buried in a decent way; and finally, 7) burned their bodies and exposed them for all of the North to see.

And after all this, having to be the one to kill Theon will make him suffer.

We know one of the moments Robb gets the angriest in the books is when Bran is threatened by the wildlings. He is the acting Lord and keeping his little brothers safe is his responsability. He nearly bites Theon’s head off when Theon saves Bran in a risky way and we know that was uncharacteristic because Theon is still sulking about that a whole year later. So his siblings are dear to him, but even after Theon does everything from steps 1 to 4, he’s still sure they’re not in danger and that Theon won’t do anything to them. That’s how much he trusts Theon. It takes literal murder to make him change his mind.

But then he does change his mind. He believes Theon did those awful, awful things to his brothers. After that knowledge has had time to settle in, after he believes the worst of Theon, he has this amazing convo with Cat that I’ll quote whole because it’s amazing:

“Enough.” For just an instant Robb sounded more like Brandon than his father. “No man calls my lady of Winterfell a traitor in my hearing, Lord Rickard.” When he turned to Catelyn, his voice softened. “If I could wish the Kingslayer back in chains I would. You freed him without my knowledge or consent … but what you did, I know you did for love. For Arya and Sansa, and out of grief for Bran and Rickon. Love’s not always wise, I’ve learned. It can lead us to great folly, but we follow our hearts … wherever they take us. Don’t we, Mother?”

Is that what I did? “If my heart led me into folly, I would gladly make whatever amends I can to Lord Karstark and yourself.”

Lord Rickard’s face was implacable. “Will your amends warm Torrhen and Eddard in the cold graves where the Kingslayer laid them?” He shouldered between the Greatjon and Maege Mormont and left the hall.

Robb made no move to detain him. “Forgive him, Mother.”

“If you will forgive me.”

“I have. I know what it is to love so greatly you can think of nothing else.”

Catelyn bowed her head. “Thank you.” I have not lost this child, at least.

So we know that what is going on here is that Robb is buttering Cat up before breaking the news of his marriage to Jeyne to her. One of the possible interpretations supported by the text is that Jeyne is in love with Robb and Robb is not in love with her. It’s a common reading that he married her out of honor and to avoid a possible Jon Snow situation. During their marriage, he seems to grow fond of her - Cat notices he likes her company better, and her brother’s, and that he laughs when he is with the Westerlings - but he also keeps some distance. She’s afraid of Grey Wind, which pretty much means being afraid of a part of him. In turn, he’s attentive, courteous, and a bit touched and annoyed at her public displays of affection.

Then there is this gem:

“His heir failed him.” Robb ran a hand over the rough weathered stone. “I had hoped to leave Jeyne with child … we tried often enough, but I’m not certain…”

And this is more Damien’s not-meta than my own, but once you see it, you can’t ever unsee it. Compare the bolded parts in that quote in the first Cat-Robb convo to the part bolded in the second one, put them side to side and tell me you can’t see the difference. In the first one, Robb basically spells it out that he’s made a mistake out of love, that love turned him into a fool, but it was stronger than him. At that point of the narrative, Robb’s biggest mistake (and notably it was HIS mistale, it was not a case of the narrative screwing him over) was to free Theon. A mistake that caused him to lose his brothers, castle and a significant chunk of political standing. The consequences of marrying Jeyne, which is pretty much only to lose the Freys, don’t even compare - especially because the Stark faction believes they can win their support back.

And this love that made him act like a fool is further described in the second bolded part of that quote. He loved so greatly that he could think of nothing else. That is some passion there, folks. Even considering that he’s trying to get Cat on his side, it strikes me as so sincere and heartfelt. And again, maybe it’s my own biases showing, but that sounds like an all-consuming love, the kind of love that doesn’t go away easily. I don’t see that same depth of emotion on the second bolded quote… they tried often enough. Does it add up with the first part? I don’t think so.

My conclusion, and forgive me if the shipper gogles come in, is that the love that hurt him, that consumed him, is the love he had for Theon. Not for his wife. But it was in the past, one might say. His marriage was just beginning, he and Jeyne grow closer, etc. I’ll quote two more bits:

“I cannot speak to that. There is much confusion in any war. Many false reports. All I can tell you is that my nephews claim it was this bastard son of Bolton’s who saved the women of Winterfell, and the little ones. They are safe at the Dreadfort now, all those who remain.”

“Theon,” Robb said suddenly. “What happened to Theon Greyjoy? Was he slain?”

Here we are nearing the Red Wedding. Some Freys come to pretend to make peace and pressure for a wedding to Edmure and they bring news of the battle of Winterfell. Professional writers don’t often abuse the “suddenly” like us poor fic writers, so when he says it was sudden, i believe it was sudden. I believe it came out of nowhere, in fact, and that Robb was the only one in that room considering Theon’s fate.

Roose Bolton removed a ragged strip of leather from the pouch at his belt. “My son sent this with his letter.”

Ser Wendel turned his fat face away. Robin Flint and Smalljon Umber exchanged a look, and the Greatjon snorted like a bull. “Is that … skin?” said Robb.

“The skin from the little finger of Theon Greyjoy’s left hand. My son is cruel, I confess it. And yet … what is a little skin, against the lives of two young princes? You were their mother, my lady. May I offer you this … small token of revenge?“ 

Part of Catelyn wanted to clutch the grisly trophy to her heart, but she made herself resist. “Put it away. Please.”

“Flaying Theon will not bring my brothers back,” Robb said. “I want his head, not his skin.”

Aside from Catelyn, who is torn, and maybe the Greatjon (I don’t know what snorting like a bull is supposed to convey), no one in that room approves of torturing Theon, they’re all rightly creeped out. But no one would blink an eye if Robb had ordered Theon flayed alive. Instead, he commands the torture to stop. Of course it’s the only decent thing to do, but let’s all appreciate how the character who is always arguing for peace, end of conflict and letting things go for the sake of the living and what can still be saved instead of more violence, is tempted by it. Robb is the only one who shares the full extent of Cat’s grief here, but he’s also the only one to try and stop the senseless punishment.

I joke all the time about how Throbb is canon, and it’s mostly jokes. They are not canon in the sense that Cat and Ned are canon, and I don’t think we’ll have any more facts added to their story together, there probably won’t be any flashbacks that hint at a romantic relationship between them. But looking at the text alone, what we have of it as of now, it’s possible to support a canonical reading for this ship. This interpretation is there in the text if you want to see it. In fact, some things make more sense if Robb was in love with Theon.

And you know, having a ship be supported by canon is not actually a condition that needs to be met to ship anything. It’s just something I particularly need to get into it. But even if you read Theon and Robb as just friends, it’s a reach to say that Robb didn’t love Theon.

Of course, we have Robb demonstrating affection towards Jon in the books too. He is Robb’s chosen heir, to Cat’s despair. Despite all the negative propaganda bastards get and the fact that the mother he so respected and loved disliked and distrusted Jon, Robb considers him a full brother, to compare to Sansa’s constant “half-brother” from the beginning of her journey. They’re seen having a good time together (they have a horse race in their very first appearance in the books, and Mance recalls them getting into trouble together as children), so they enjoy each other’s company.

Yet there’s also an undercurrent of sibling rivalry between them, seen from Jon’s pov. We have this bit with Benjen:

Benjen gave Jon a careful, measuring look. “You don’t miss much, do you, Jon? We could use a man like you on the Wall.”

Jon swelled with pride. “Robb is a stronger lance than I am, but I’m the better sword, and Hullen says I sit a horse as well as anyone in the castle.”

This is hilarious to me. My uncle paid me a compliment for being perceptive, a skill not at all related to martial skills! Time to compare my martial skills to my brother’s, even though we’re both 14 and there’s lots of more tried warriors in the world and we haven’t even had our last growh spurt! This is sure to impress a seasoned ranger!

Of course we know Jon’s rivalry towards Robb comes from his bastard status, but it’s interesting to me that it’s something that centers around Robb alone; he doesn’t compare himself to Bran or Rickon as far as I remember. That can be explained by their very similar ages and growing up together, I think. Jon has the advantage of being older than his other true born brothers.

Jon also says this:

Bastard children were born from lust and lies, men said; their nature was wanton and treacherous. Once Jon had meant to prove them wrong, to show his lord father that he could be as good and true a son as Robb. I made a botch of that. Robb had become a hero king; if Jon was remembered at all, it would be as a turncloak, an oathbreaker, and a murderer. He was glad that Lord Eddard was not alive to see his shame.

To Jon - and to the other Stark children - Robb is often the model to be emmulated. I won’t dig up all the times they hold him up as the ideal of bravery. Jon’s feelings are not unique in this sense, though they are when it comes to the rivalry. They all admire Robb. From Robb’s side, I don’t remember hints of him admiring Jon or any of his siblings. He certainly loves them, likes them, and enjoys spending time with Jon at the very least.

But Theon is the one Robb admires in text. Bran says it, and Theon too:

“There is nothing small about the letter I bear,” Theon said, “and the offer he makes is one I suggested to him.”

“This wolf king heeds your counsel, does he?” The notion seemed to amuse Lord Balon.

“He heeds me, yes. I’ve hunted with him, trained with him, shared meat and mead with him, warred at his side. I have earned his trust. He looks on me as an older brother, he—”

Readers often dismiss this as Theon’s garden variety empty bragging. To be fair, Theon very much distorts reality in his head to fit his own idea of how things should be, but this is one of the few times when he’s not doing that. He’s genuinely proud that Robb thinks so well of him. And since he’s so sensitive about what people think of him and people not giving him the credit he thinks he deserves, I’m ready to believe his account of facts this one time.

What I get from canon, regarding who Robb loves the most out of Jon and Theon, is that he loves them differently. He might even love Jon more by ASOS; it’s a wonder that we have hints that he still cares about Theon at all by the end, after the murders of who we know are the miller boys, but who Robb thinks are Bran and Rickon.

He had different relationships with them. Even if you reject the reading of Throbb as romantic, friends and siblings are not interchangable, even if you’re out there calling close friends brothers or if your brother is your best friend. It’s different sorts of affection. At the beginning of the series, Robb and Theon seemed closer to me than Robb and Jon - let’s not forget that Jon’s favorite is Arya, and the biggest family drama at that time has to do with Jon and Cat. They grow even closer as they go to war together, and then they’re pushed apart by circumstances and by Theon’s actions.

But okay, this is not long enough yet, so let’s say that this is an invalid framework of analysis and Martin’s word of god has as much weight as canon, and that in fact, we’re 100% certain that Robb loved Jon more than Theon.

Why does it even need to be a competition? No one holds it against Ygritte that Jon loves Arya more. Asha has a steady boyfriend that she’d gladly marry, and still she takes risk after risk for Theon. Ned was probably the greatest love of Cat’s life, but her interactions with her brother and uncle are still emotional and moving in great part because of the depth of her love for them.

Robb loving Jon more doesn’t take anything away from Theon. He doesn’t love Theon less because he loves Jon more, love is not a finite resource. And Robb loved Theon plenty, be it in a familial, friends or romantic way. If it diminished, that was a result of Theon’s choices alone.

[tacitwhisky]

[the first half of this video is based on a post I made awhile back about all the dumb things in the Battle of Winterfell. The following is the transcript of the second half of the video]

Is the Battle of Winterfell an inherently doomed idea? One that was inevitably going to make no sense?

I don’t think so, though personally, I would’ve preferred to see the long night last the whole season instead of a single episode. It’s hard to feel like the White Walkers were the existential threat the show has been hinting they were for seven seasons if they’re defeated in a single battle. I mean, they’re one half of the title of the whole book series, the ice of A Song of Ice and Fire, and they’re swatted away in a single episode. It’s just bad storytelling to spend so much time building up something that doesn’t have any real effect on the narrative after it’s done.

Season eight could’ve shown the true devastation the show has been hinting the White Walkers breaking through the Wall would unleash, a brutal winter without end. It could’ve shown the true breath of the war for the dawn in different theatres: Sansa and Arya holding Winterfell in a real siege that stretched for weeks or months, Jon and Dany scouring the north to burn through swathes of wights wherever they find them in and endless guerilla war of attrition, Jaime and Brienne leading starving refugees to the coast while being hounded at every step by white walkers, desperate pitched battles on the open field between Unsullied and wights.

You know. A real war. The kind the story called for, and HBO and Martin wanted. Not the abbreviated one episode battle the showrunners gave us because they’re talentless hacks who were bored with Game of Thrones and just wanted it to be over so they could move unto Star Wars movies and Netflix deals.

But, if the war against the dead does have to be one battle, it’s actually not that hard to fix a lot of the dumb things the defenders do, patch up the logical inconsistencies, and add a more engaging ebb and flow.

To make things less complicated, let's break the siege into multiple phases.

Phase 1: Shaping

First, we clean up all the dumb decisions the defenders make that we’ve already talked about. That means the Dothraki no longer head on charge the wights. Horses are largely useless in a siege, so Dany forces some of them to unmount and man the walls as archers. They’ll whine about it, but the defenders need the volume of arrows they can fill the sky with. The job of most of the Dothraki though is to lead off as many wights as possible again and again on a wild goose chase where they can be isolated and cut down with arrows and lightning swift raids.

The Unsullied are also pulled back to man Winterfell’s walls, and at the base of the wall is where the fire trench is dug. It’s filled with logs and drowned with oil and pine tar, enough so that once it’s lit it can continue to blaze long after it’s become piled with dead bodies and won’t be suffocated by them.

It’s not really clear from either Hardhome or this battle whether what the Night King is doing is  animating both the newly dead and the un-animated wights, or just the former, but let’s assume Jon isn’t sure either, and he decides to err on the side of caution and prepare for the Night King to reanimate un-animated wights. If that’s what’s he worried about, then corpse destruction becomes the name of the game.

To that end the field catapults the defenders have access to are mounted on the inner towers of Winterfell, and are stocked with an actually reasonable amount of ammunition instead of the tiny pile they’re given in the show. Combined with flights of dragonglass tipped arrows they’ll attempt to thin the ranks of wights before they climb the walls and can simply crush the defenders under the weight of dead bodies.

This really should be the key dynamic and push and pull of the battle: the wights are most effective clumped up where they can crush the defenders with their mass, but that’s also when they’re most vulnerable to fire.

And speaking of, Jon and Dany should be in the air as soon as the dothraki have lead the wights they can off, swooping down to incinerate anywhere the dead have clumped up. It’s canonical that dragon flame can burn hot enough to melt stone, and that’s no small thing when the defenders are trying to put the wights down for good and destroy their corpses, each blast of dragonflame reducing any wights caught in it to ash. Jon and Dany should stay in close formation as they burn the dead, taking turns for each of their dragons to swoop down while the other stays high to watch out for the Night’s King and undead Viserion.

Phase 2: Contact

No matter how many wights the Dothraki are able to lead off or are thinned out by projectiles and dragonflame, the wights are going to inevitably reach the walls of Winterfell and start to climb them. At this point the trench should be lit, and as the wights scramble up the walls of Winterfell it becomes the job of the Unsullied and northmen to push them down into the trench. Honestly, this shouldn’t be all that hard: it’s pretty easy to knock someone of a wall with a spear, and every once in awhile pots of oil can be heaved over the walls in sheets to set alight any wights that aren’t burning.

The defenders can only knock down the wights so fast though, and unlike in the show, the wights are going to slowly envelope Winterfell until it’s in the middle of a seething sea of dead bodies. And the wights aren’t going to stop. That’s the challenge in this second phase of battle: the living tire while the dead don’t. Unlike a real army that might rout or retreat or panic, the dead are relentless, climbing endlessly over each other to reach the defenders completely heedless of their own losses.

Something people don’t realize about medieval, or really any, warfare is just how exhausting it can be. The body can only keep up non-stop physical strain for so long. And unlike the hour the supposedly long night lasts in the show, this kind of a battle could last far longer than any battle between two living armies ever would, and you would have people literally collapsing from exhaustion.

To counter the exhaustion problem, what the defenders should do is swap soldiers on and off the walls in shifts so that they have a chance to breath and recover, treat the wounded and get food and water to those that need it. Coordinating the effort would actually be a good role for Sansa and Tyrion, and give them something to do besides cower in the crypts.

But as the hours drag on, the strain on the defenders is only going to increase, physically, but also mentally. Try to imagine for a moment just how claustrophobic and horrifying it would be: in the dark, cut off from all the rest of the world, everyone around you unrecognizable and so exhausted they’re barely standing, the sky above roiling with black and red clouds in an unearthly tableau.

And the dead. Always the dead. Less individual bodies than a ceaseless, heaving mass of flesh and limbs and scrambling fingers, the sound of them pressing against your ears, the scritch of chipped and broken nails against stone as they scrabble at the walls around you.

And it’s at this point, when the defenders are exhausted and flagging, that the Night King shows up and uses his ace card: a blizzard.

Phase 3: Storm

One thing the show doesn’t accurately portray is exactly how horrifically debilitating a blizzard is to an army. You get a taste for it when the blizzard first rolls in early in the battle, but the showrunners then seem to quickly forget about it and it doesn’t affect the battle after that.

In a real blizzard, Jon and Dany and the dragons are going to be immediately grounded by the winds, and even if they could fly wouldn’t be able to see the ground. The wind and sleet are also going to ruin all your missile weapons, so no more burning pots or dragonglass arrows.

And don’t forget that in the real world blizzards kill people that aren’t in the middle of a zombie battle: they burn your skin with cold, freeze you to the bone, and hit you with wind hard enough that you can barely stand. But most debilitating of all, you lose communication and any sense of the battlefield. In a blizzard you can’t see more than a foot ahead of you, if that, and you’re deaf from the roar of the wind. You are, in a very real sense, completely and utterly isolated and alone. The entirety of Winterfell could be lost and you’d never know it.

And the dead aren’t affected by this. They don’t have to see, don’t have to communicate, don’t care about the cold. So with the defenders blinded and crippled by the blizzard, some of the wights will make it over the and as soon as there’s one breach there’ll be a second, and then it’ll be like water breaking over a dam, dead bodies spilling onto the walls and into Winterfell.

The only choice the defenders have is to fall back to the inner keep, but it’s going to be utterly impossible to coordinate that in the blizzard, so instead they’re just going to have to fight and die where they stand as the Night King walks through the ever shrinking pockets of them towards the godswood and Bran.

Phase 4: Sacrifice

Unfortunately this is about as much as we can fix before we start running up against the idiocy and limitations of the show. The Night King's stated goal is to kill bran (dumb), killing the Night King stops all the wights and other white walkers (dumber), and the siege can only last an episode (dumbest).

Still, there’s a few things we can do to make the defenders seem less like idiots and tell a more engaging story here at the end of the battle. We could keep the Night King entering the godswood, but this time the defenders doused all the trees beforehand with oil and pine tar, and as soon as the Night’s King is in the center of it facing off against Bran, the defenders try and light it. But the cold is too intense for the trees to light, so Bran uses a raven to tell Jon to light the heart tree he’s under with dragonflame, revealing that he knew he would have to sacrifice himself all along.

This isn’t a perfect ending, but it’s more effective than what we got on screen in a few key ways. It makes the defenders look smart instead of just depending on some rando stabbing the Night King at the last minute; it has an emotional toll both in Bran’s sacrifice and Jon’s complicity in his death; and it unites the themes of the entire series of ice and fire. Ice and fire not just pitted against each other in the dragonflame burning the Night King, but also working Jon who has both Targaryen fire and Stark ice.

Oh right. Themes are for eighth-grade book reports. I forgot.

[27gravess]

Resurrection AU

Daenerys Resurrection AU, bc i refuse to believe what happened to her was real. Drogon took her east to the Red Priestess and she was brought back.

——————————————————————————

“What unites people?” Tyrion started

“Armies? Gold? Flags?” he shook his head, disdainfully looking at the ground.

“Stories. There is nothing in the world more powerful than a good story. I remember the stories I was told when I was younger. They often scared me to the very core. Nothing can stop it, no enemy alive to defeat it, and who has a better story than Bran the Broken? Thrown out of a window as a child, by my own late brother.” He added the last part in as a whisper, afraid to admit Jamie was dead. He looked to the man who was sitting quietly in his chair. Everyone seemed surprised, even his sisters.

“The boy who was thrown from a high tower and lived. He knew he’d never walk again, so he learned to fly. I ask you now, Bran the Broken if we choose you, will you wear the crown?”

Bran smiled and confidently answered, “Why do you think I came all this way?” Tyrion was surprised, expecting a no from the man, who only days before muttered something about never wanting to be a King. Muttered something about how the skies were open and consistently called out to him.

Something occurred to Tyrion, and he wasn’t sure how it made him feel. This boy who he just named King, he knew all along, he was the real player of the game of thrones. He knew about everything even Daenerys’ massacre of Kings Landing. He knew at the end of it all, he would be made King, he would bring glory to House Stark after years of being put down.

Pleased with himself, Tyrion wandered into the sunlight and closed his eyes. Dreaming of the days of drinking and joking with Jamie. The days of being married to Sansa, who only sat a few meters away. He closed his eyes in prayer, hoping that everything was a dream.

The council surrounded Bran and the Starks and congratulated them. They have won the Game of Thrones and took over from the Lannisters, a family that committed dozens of crimes against them. Amidst the chaos, the council and Tryion, who still stood in the sun with his eyes closed, missed a great shadow pass above. The next thing however, Tyrion and the rest of the council did not miss. He heard a sound he thought was most definitely part of a dream, a dragon’s roar. He turned to the sound and tried to convince himself what he was seeing was a dream. For the life of him, he couldn’t focus on the dragon, or more importantly on its back. His eyes could not see if Daenerys was resting in her usual spot. Then again why would she be? She was dead, Tyrion had no reason to worry. Although he did worry that he would have to deal with her ghost haunting him for the rest of his days.

Drogon landed on the walls of the Dragonpit, the ground shook under his weight. The Lords and Ladies of Westeros were silent, not entirely sure why the Dragon was there.

“Maybe he feels connected to King’s Landing because it’s where she died.” They refused to say her name, it became much like a curse in the time since the massacre.

Then the unexpected happened, the dead Dragon Queen slid off her child’s back and began walking towards the group. Tyrion just stood, staring at her, his mouth trying to form words, but all that came out was a tiny quiet noise. Daenerys came closer, she looked brighter than before and there was a small bounce in her walk. She took the only free chair, in front of the council. None of the Lords and Ladies could believe what was happening in front of their eyes, only Grey Worm gave her a smile, the others too busy trying to form words. Bran turned to look at her and opened his mouth to say something, but she interrupted him.

She smiled. The Mother of Dragons smiled at them, “My apologies for being late,” No one could respond. “I did have quite a long journey.”

Sansa was the first to speak, cleverly formed words dropped from her lips, “I thought you were dead, my lady.” Sansa was still bitter about Jon asking a foreigner for help.

“I still do believe it is and will always be Your Grace. I will let it go this once,” Daenerys calmly replied to the Red Wolf, and then continued. “I was-“ She was interrupted.

“You are dead.” Tyrion finally managed the power to speak, and his blunt words were harsh. Daenerys was unhappy she was interrupted, but to have her former hand, an enemy, remind her that not days before her body lied lifeless on a cold, stone table. The reminder of the pain and burning of a dagger being pushed into her chest by her own lover was still too much to process for her.

“I was, but Drogon,” Daenerys waved her hand at her child, who sat in a corner of the pit, waiting for a command, “Took my body east, to Volantis, a Red Priestess revived me, just like the Red Woman did for Jon Snow. The Lord of Light still has plans for me apparently, and my watch was not over, or something along those lines.” She folded her hands in her lap. With a careful eye, you could see where the dagger that Jon Snow placed in her heart had ripped her dress.

“I considered staying in the East, in Essos. My true home. But the Lord of Light did not bring me back for that, he brought me back to get revenge on those who conspired my downfall.” Daenerys turned to Tyrion.

“The sight of you in chains does please me greatly,” She stood, and slowly began walking towards the Imp that once called himself her Hand, “But the crowd around Bran and the Starks confuses me. Does someone care to explain?”

“Bran was chosen as King of the Seven Kingdoms.” Daenerys didn’t care to acknowledge who the voice came from.

“A Stark as King, and living in the South? The last time a significant male Stark went South, he lost his head.” Sansa and Arya cringed at the reminder.

Tyrion was still in shock, and stared at his former Queen, “He has the better story, Daenerys.” She scoffed at his use of her name, and at the fact, he had the courage to do so. She knew he was afraid of the Mother of Dragons, and Sansa did too.

“You will not threaten him,” Sansa stood joining Daenerys by Tyrion. “My brother Bran has the better story, a better journey of the people here.” Sansa raised her chin, making herself tall. Yes, she was taller than Daenerys, but not in self-esteem, she lacked the confidence Daenerys had used to conquer the slave cities in Essos.

“A better story than I? Please, Sansa, you know as well as I do that is simply not true.” Daenerys walked away from Tyrion, to the edge of the tent and looked out to Drogon. After a moment of silence, she then turned back to the council.

“I spent my life in foreign lands. So many men have tried to kill me, I don't remember all their names. I have been sold like a broodmare,” She moved to in front of the council, but still spoke to Sansa. “I’ve been chained and betrayed, raped and defiled. The world hadn’t seen a dragon in centuries until my children were born. The Dothraki hadn’t crossed the sea,” She paused to laugh, and clasped her hands in front of her, “Any sea in fact. They did for me. I was born to rule the Seven Kingdoms and take back what was stolen from my family.” She spat the last part directly at Tyrion.

Tyrion had finally managed to gather his strength. “You murdered innocents and burned an entire city to the ground. Yet you called it mercy. How in any world is that mercy? Children died, women died, families have now gone extinct thanks to you.” He looked up to Daenerys, and directly into her eyes. “You can not call yourself a merciful queen after that.”

The Lords and Ladies nodded their heads in agreement with Tyrion, any of them too afraid to say what he had.

“I will admit, sailing to Westeros is probably the biggest mistake of my life. I should’ve taken an old lovers advice,” She smiled at the thought of laying in bed with Daario in her pyramid in Meereen, times were a lot simpler then. “Coming to Westeros, I lost two of my children. I lost my most trusted adviser, not to mention at the hands of your own sister, my oldest friend who loved me in a way I couldn’t love him. He swore his life to me and died protecting me in a war that wasn’t mine, to begin with. I was manipulated into helping a cause I could’ve ridden out on my throne at Dragonstone, and dealt with the aftermath after the North had been slaughtered. In a moment of weakness I agreed to help Jon Snow, and Sansa’s beloved North in that war.”

Daenerys paced by members of the council that were unfamiliar to her.

“After that war, I moved South and was ambushed by a fleet that was supposed to be ruled by Queen Yara Greyjoy,” She stopped in front of Yara and cocked her head sideways, her mouth drew into a tight-lipped smile.

“Imagine my surprise, I had made an alliance with this queen back in Meereen,” Daenerys continued moving along the council.

“Her brother murdered my child, Rhaegal. Cersei then thought by moving all of her citizens into the gates would stop me because ‘The Dragon Queen has a soft spot for the innocents and slaves’.” She turned back the council.

“Sitting on the back of Drogon, and hearing the bells, I was reminded of everything I had lost. Two children, my best friend, my oldest advisor, and a lover in Jon Snow even. I physically couldn’t let Cersei rejoice while I mourned deeply. Not to mention Lord Varys had been poisoning everything that was brought to me. The poison clouded my judgment.”

“I didn’t execute Lord Varys only because he betrayed me, but also because I could no longer trust any thing that was brought to my table. I felt myself falling into a hole, one that I climbed out of so many years ago in a desert with my Dothraki blindly following me. So please, do rethink why I did what I did. It had to be done.”

Tyrion’s body began to fill with rage that was larger than himself. “You could’ve stopped, given the people a choice!”

“There was no choice to be given. If given one, they would’ve chosen to live in their old world and not my new one. I promised I would break the wheel and if I had given them a choice, I would’ve broken my promise to myself all those years ago.” Daenerys now stood in front of Bran, she had a sense of eagerness still to her, and Tyrion grew worried.

“I wanted come to back to Westeros and burn all of those who wronged me, but I won’t. I realize that the world isn’t perfect, I can’t have everything.”

“Ziry najikatas.” Grey Worm knew immediately who his Queen was talking about, and placed his hand on Tyrion’s shoulder.

“I will execute those who wronged me,”

She looked down at Tyrion. “You and one other will pay for your crimes. Not only against me but the Seven Kingdoms.” Daenerys spoke low, remaining eye contact with Bran.

“Forgive me, but you have no power here. You are an enemy to the Crown and the Realm.” Sansa grabbed Daenerys’ arm and pulled her away from her brother, and her former husband, not willing to see him hurt. She had already lost Theon, she didn’t think she could lose Tyrion and come out with her sanity.

“Bran can no longer walk, but he learned to fly. I am right, correct?” Daenerys yanked her arm from Sansa’s grip and wiped her hands on her dress.

“I can.” Bran spoke clearly, no emotion inflated his dialect.

“Good,” Daenerys stalked around the council, looking at them as if she was the cat, and they were the mice. “I have to conclude you saw that I burned King’s Landing before it even happened. And you saw my death, and you obviously saw yourself becoming King, because why else would the last male heir to the Stark crown come south?”

“I did.”

“He’s not the last male heir.” Sansa’s interjection went unnoticed by the Dragon Queen.

“You must know what happens next I imagine.” Daenerys was once again the edge of the tent, she found herself continuously checking on Drogon as if he needed her protection anymore.

“I do.” Sansa eyes immediately shifted from the imposter Queen to her brother.

“What is she talking about Bran? What is she saying? What is going to happen?” She bombarded him with questions and he shrugged her off. This is the only time that Sansa seemed genuinely interested in Bran’s warging powers.

“Then you must understand my reasoning behind it. I imagine if you were to become King instead, you would do the same to those you have betrayed you.” Her back was to the group but her head turned ever so slightly, the new Prince of Dorne shuddered when she made eye contact with him. He knew that Daenerys Targaryen was dangerous and on edge. 

“I most likely would, Daenerys Stormborn.” Bran shifted uncomfortably in his chair. The other Lords and Ladies grew impatient and nervous. Whispers floated around them.

“She has definitely gone mad. With the help of poison or not.”

Daenerys then walked down the stairs and back to Drogon, a growl came fro his mouth. and climbed on. Drogon took off back in the direction they came from and the council withdrew a breath they weren’t aware they were holding. Tyrion moved to look for Drogon and saw nothing in the clouds. His worry started to slide away, and fast. The council bombarded Bran with questions, unaware of what Daenerys was talking about. Or if anything she said about being poisoned was true.

Bran’s calm and melodic voice started and it immediately calmed the group. “Forgive me, Lords and Ladies of Westeros. I would do the same thing if I had someone betray me in my Kingship. Bring him in.” Grey Worm moved to signal his forces, and Jon Snow was brought into the pit chained, his clothes covered in dirt, his hair loose and a long beard grew on his chin. This no longer calmed the group, well most of them. Yara Greyjoy had managed to figure it out, and she was more than happy to watch.

“It seems that Queen Daenerys is going to execute the Stark bastard for what he did. I do enjoy a good show.” She smirked to herself, but Arya was quick to her feet, a dagger at Yara’s throat. Arya had been fine to watch and listen to the events that were unfolding in front of her, but at the mention of her brother Jon, she could no longer hold her quiet reserve.

“You will watch your words carefully, if you talk about my brother like that again, you will be dead before you can say your house words.” The Greyjoy queen sunk into her chair.

Jon Snow was placed under the tents. The Lords and Ladies that had no part in engineering Daenerys’ fall from the throne were removed. Bran knew he was going to survive, that Sansa and Arya would also. They were going to be spared to suffer, but also as a constant reminder, their lives could be taken as well. The Stark bastard had no idea what was coming for him, and no one had the courage to explain.

Sansa and Arya refused to leave the Dragonpit, insisting on staying with Jon.

“Jon, you are and always have been family. I will not let you be forgotten.” Sansa held his chained hands and forced him to look at her. Jon was in a daze though, refusing to eat or drink anything, he did hear the words, but they made no sense to him. His brain couldn’t decipher the message.

Jon Snow and Tyrion stood in the middle, Jon was still unaware that Daenerys was alive. Sansa released a shaky breath. It was clear. Their mistake was in conspiring to have Daenerys removed from her place of power, either stand with Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen or die.

A dragon screech was heard above them, Jon’s head snapped to the sky, and gasped. Then he saw her, his lover, his Queen. The woman he loved but murdered in cold blood for the better of the Kingdoms.

“Love is the death of duty.”

His mouth instantly went dry, his brain moving too quickly for his mouth to catch up. Drogon landed once again in front of the tent, eerily staking towards the group. A scream from the Dragon Queen was heard.

“Dracarys.”

Jon Snow’s last words were to be written down as an example of irony.

“Daenerys?”

The woman he murdered in the cold blood now sat in front of him, on her dragon child. His life now in her hands, and it was gone with a single command.

Sansa was made Queen in the North, and the North did receive the independence they thought they deserved. After months of convincing, Arya accepted Gendry’s proposal and became the Lady of StormsEnd, vowing to never visit King’s Landing without absolutely having to. Bran moved to the Wall, became a Maester and lived the rest of his days there. He rarely spoke and kept to himself.

Daenerys however, got the crown she had sought after all her life. Becoming the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms was her life goal, and now that she sat on the Iron Throne looking out at her subjects as they yelled.

“Long May She Reign!”

Daenerys felt a weight lifted off of her shoulders and she relaxed into the throne. The Seven Kingdoms had never seen such peace under Daenerys the First. 
 


[7deadlycinderellas]

If the summer of our lives could just come again, ch18

Ao3 link

 On the King’s Road

On the journey back to Winterfell, Sansa tells Shireen the whole story.

She’s a good listener, or perhaps it’s just a good story.

The weather is too terrible to camp very much. Sansa does not feel she misses much travelling in the wheelhouse this time. The few inns they pass cost a great deal, and food is stretched thin.

The two of them sleep in the wheelhouse, pressed close together as though they were sisters sharing secrets. Maybe in a way they are.

And so, these stories shared under moonlit cover, must sustain them. At least that’s how Shireen tells it.

She weeps the day that Sansa is forced to tell her how she died. She shakes her head violently.

“My father wouldn’t do that - he loves me!”

Sansa nods softly.

“Of course he does. That’s what made it so awful.”

Shireen sniffs, and wipes her eyes.

“Did it even help?”

Sansa’s heart breaks in two.

“No. Half your father’s men deserted him. Who would have thought that burning a child alive was bad for morale? He still attacked Winterfell, still tried to take down the Boltons. His remaining forces were crushed. He died later that day, executed by Lady Brienne for using the Red Woman’s black magic to kill your uncle.”

Shireen laughs through her tears.

“Maybe Ser Davos was right to take me away all those years ago.”

Sansa turns solemn. She reaches out to brush a tear off Shireen’s cheek.

“I never met you before. I only knew of you from Davos’s stories. He loved you, mourned you as if you were his own child. His very first thought when he returned with us was to get you to safety. It’s worked so far.”

Shireen slumps, and rests her head on Sansa’s shoulder.

“I used to have dreams of being burned to death in a dragon’s fire,” she says.

“Dragons are just huge beasts,” Sansa assures her, “The real most frightening monsters look just like men.”

Once Shireen’s sobs have subsided a bit, Sansa tries to cheer her up.

“Lady Brienne was the very first woman knight in the seven kingdoms.”

Shireen’s wet eyes blink in surprise.

“How?”

Sansa laughs, “Any knight can make a knight, it’s merely convention that women can’t be knights. She was knighted properly before the Long Night by Jamie Lannister, though she’d been acting the role of true knight for many years before. “

Shireen’s tears have ceased and been replaced by a confused look.

“Jamie Lannister? He’s- well, I wouldn’t call him mean, but…”

Sansa snorts.

“You can call him mean all you want. He pushed my little brother from a window- twice now. He couldn’t walk at all after the first time, and even though it wasn’t all that bad this time, he still can’t run or walk without a cane. Brienne claims he’s a good man underneath, but extracting that man is not within my skill set. Apparently the first step needed is a complete twin removal.”

Shireen sniffs.

“I never had siblings, always wondered what it was like.”

“It’s got its ups and its downs.”

Shireen suddenly purses her lips, remembering something from long ago.

“When Davos took me to Storm’s End, he said he was trying to rescue one of my cousin’s. Said in a different time he could have even been a prince. I guess that’s the closest thing I’ve got.”

Sansa cackles at the word ‘prince’,

“Oh, I am so going to tell him that Davos told you that. That was Gendry he was speaking of, one of your late uncle’s bastards. Davos got him out of King’s Landing fine, he married my younger sister.”

Shireen’s eyes go wide.

“Oh! That means we actually are family already!”

Seven hells, Sansa thought, no wonder Davos was so desperate to protect this girl.

It’s later in the journey, they’re about to cross into the North properly when it happens.

They’d been up early to get a quick start. The day was miraculously clear, and they could cover a great deal of road if it stayed that way.

Sansa had just been standing with she felt her skin prickle. She couldn’t put her finger on anything, just a sudden feeling of wrongness. She feels Lady shift at her side, picking up on her ill at ease. Rotating slowly, she managed to silently catch Brienne’s eye.

They don’t need to speak, Brienne sees her gesture with her eyes off into the tree line.

She pulls, nocks and looses her arrow silently.

All she does is graze the man, splitting the leather of his doublet and slicing the skin underneath, but the yell he lets out it enough. Brienne and the other guards can put him on the ground within a moment when he lurches from the cut on his arm, losing grip on his own bow.

They get him down easily, get his bow from him, but don’t trap his arms fast enough. He pulls the dagger from his belt and cuts his own throat.

With barely a second to think, Ned orders one of the guards to sweep the treeline and see if there was anyone else.

Looking at the man dead on the ground, Sansa feels her stomach lurch. He had been so close....She grasps Shireen’s elbow, her fingers pressed so tightly to her face that she’s left marks on the skin.

The others are arguing.

“That’s a Lannister cloak-”

“But he’s got the Baratheon colors underneath-”

“Which ones though?”

“He’s not one of Renly’s, I’ve never seen him before-”

“A sellsword? But why dress him up.”

Quietly, Sansa walks beside the man’s head, lolling back above the deep cut where his blood gushed free. His dagger has fallen from his lifeless grip.

With a wrinkle of her brow, Sansa knocks it from his hand and picks it up.

“Sansa-” Ned interrupts her, and she tests the items weight.

“He sent it with a catspaw before...to think he knew nothing of how valuable it could be. “

She turns to Ned.

“Don’t think too much on whose man he is. Likely a sellsword, they wouldn’t ask questions. The colors are probably deliberate, meant to confuse. I’m not even sure who he was targeting is important.”

Her stomach sinks with the thought. She isn’t sure herself, it could have been Father or her, or even Shireen and Brienne. She can’t picture the dead man’s sights from where he was standing. They don’t know if he was waiting, watching, or anything.

“Lord Baelish spoke often of the value of chaos. This is Valyrian steel. It was given to a paid assassin before, in an attempt on Bran’s life. I don’t think he was the one who ordered it, but it still ended up in his hand.  It did exactly what it was intended to here, it spread discord.”

“Sansa,” Ned starts, “How do you…”

She turns the dagger over in her hand.

“That’s likely what he wants, to turn us on each other, make us suspicious. He clearly didn’t pick this man for his stealth.”

Ned takes a deep breath.

“What do you suggest?”

Sansa thinks. She’s still unused to people looking to her.

“We keep going. Keep an eye open. Don’t think too hard about it.”

She finds a rag and wipes off the dagger, then tucks it into the pocket at the waist of her skirt.

“And I’ll keep a hold of this.”

 At Winterfell

During a clear day, the raven announcing Sansa and Ned’s return makes it to Winterfell. There is rejoicing. Even Robb looks relieved at the thought of being able to pass the mantle of lord back to his father.

At least by most.

Catelyn sits at the breakfast table long after most of the rest of the keep has left, and the dishes have been cleared. She sits, and thinks.

It would be a lie to say she was not overjoyed at the thought of seeing her eldest daughter again. It would also be a lie to say the thought of seeing Ned again did not fill her with an array of mixed emotions

It’s been over three years. She feels like she should have become more accustomed to things now. Like maybe she should have been able to move past the lies.

Then she hears how her other children, who have lived so many more years than they should, speak of Jon, and of their father.

They can love their brother-cousin, and still look at their father, knowing he lied to them about Jon for so many years. Why can’t she?

Her reverie is broken by the sound of her second youngest re-entering the Great Hall. Bran walks carefully back up to the table, and sits roughly, reaching under the bench to retrieve his cane where he’d left it.

“I nearly made it all the way out to the training yard this time,” he admits to her. He’d managed to lose the last cane somewhere, and when Gendry had given him this one, he’d threatened to ram the next one through the back of his hand if he lost this one.

“Is it easier in the morning?”

Bran nods.

“Sometimes. The ache doesn’t really start up until I’ve stressed it more than a bit.”

Catelyn feels a rush of tenderness at her son’s attitude.

“I know the gods have given you quite a burden to bear.”

Bran laughs.

“The gods didn’t do this me, Jamie Lannister did.”

He doesn’t tell her how small of a burden it seems this time, how his last life he had spent certain he would never do any great deeds like he had dreamed of as a child, never marry, never have a family and likely die alone.

Catelyn raises an eyebrow at him.

“I never took you for one to deny the power of the gods.”

“Given my own experiences, I have grown fairly sure that they must exist, but doubtful that they are at all concerned with us.”

Catelyn looks like she’s going to open her mouth to object to Bran’s irreverence again, so he changes the subject, to what he recognizes is likely troubling her.

“You’re worried about seeing Father again, aren’t you?”

Catelyn nods softly, not seeing the point in denying it. Bran had always been the kindest of the Stark children, the most empathetic. It made sense that he would be able to read it all over her face.

There’s a long moment before Bran responds,

“It was like that for us at the beginning too. We were all so excited to see you again, but we were terrified. Worried about how you would react. “

“I’m not concerned with how you’re father will react-”

Bran cuts her off.

“Wondering whether he felt any guilt at all about the lies he had told.”

Bran looks thoughtful for a time. Catelyn had often seen the ghost of the years in his sister’s eyes, but she’s seen it on him far less often.

“Believe me Mother, I’ve known plenty of guilt about actions in the past that I couldn’t change. Forgiveness is an incredible gift if you’re willing to give it.;

He leans over the end of the bench to hug her.

“You’re allowed to still be angry with him. None of us hold it against you, most of us were angry at him when we found out, at least for a little while. The question is whether or not you want to still be angry at him.”

Bran pulls himself up and rests his cane on the ground.

“You should think on it before they get home. Father always said he did his best thinking in the Godswood. It’s clear today, and no one will bother you there.”

Catelyn doesn’t respond to his suggestion before Jojen sticks his head into the hall and tells Bran that one of his ravens has returned, and with a gesture of his cut hands explained that the bird was “rather insistent” that it’s message be read with haste.

It’s barely a few more minutes before she decides that his suggestion is a good one.

The Godswood is a bit alien to Catelyn still, its pools and ancient woods a part of a faith which is not hers. But it is peaceful, and empty. Sitting below the weirwood, she can pray, undisturbed by anyone but Gray Wind who trots by. Her furs are thick, and blanket her from the biting cold.

She thinks to pray for the ability to forgive Ned, but what she actually prays for is her own forgiveness.

She prays to the Mother, to the Maiden too, and once more, to the Crone. She’s not sure who will respond to her pleas. She wonders which of them would touch Jon, which of them might soften his heart. She knows that emotions are usually considered the domain of the Mother, but would he be touched by her, when the woman who acted as his own mother had been so cold?

She’s been out for maybe an hour or two when her peace is interrupted by Arya.

“Sorry Mother, there’s a letter come for you- it’s from Aunt Lysa.”

Oh dear, she thinks, this can’t be good news. Sansa had been rather light on the details about Lysa, but none suggested that Catelyn’s sister is doing well at all.

 Over the Wall

The weirwoods all speak the language, and their roots go deep. Rowan teaches Jon, that they all speak to each other, in their own way.

“Despite this, there is still the effect of distance. A voice spoken on one end of the continent will reach a voice on the other, but it may not be true in strength.”

“So if I ask one if another one…”

“You will get an answer, but it may not be as complete or accurate as if you asked one right here.”

The trees of the far flung north are screaming. The night king is gathering his army. The trees don’t call him that, the name they call him doesn’t translate well. All of the dead, are to the trees ‘other’, and their king is THE other, the great one. The trees don’t know what he’s doing.

“He’s trying to get past the wall,” Ygritte tells him, “Same as us.”

Jon spares a glance to Rowan. She had told him before that after joining with Gilly and the others, their group had sought out and destroyed a horn that Mance Ryder and his men had been seeking, believing it to be the legendary horn of winter, which could bring down the wall.

“That does seem likely,” she concedes, “Seeing as the others are aiming to bring about a winter that will never end, that they would seek the other sides of the continent.”

“They can’t get over the wall,” Jon says, with firmness, “The stories are always that there were enchantments upon it. And whether or not that’s true-”

Rowan chuckles to herself, and Jon rolls his eyes. All the things she has shown him and he stills feels the urge to doubt any words speaking of magic.

Some time later, Jon asks her.

“My brother Bran...he said that the raven never finished teaching him because they were forced to flee this cave.”

Rowan nods.

“The night king touched your brother while he was in a vision. Because of this, he could find your brother, could pursue him wherever he went. That was how he found this place.”

Her eyes turn faraway, in a way they often do when speaking of her fallen brothers and sisters.

“I have often questioned why Brynden Rivers seemed to not think it worthwhile to explain to him the reasons for the rules he gave your brother, and their importance. That he would just take him at his word and not question.”

Like they had said before, Jon thought, Bran was young. Might be he might not have even listened. Anyone who had ever had any sort of interaction with children should have known better.

He breaches the subject he’s been thinking on for much of the time in this cave.

“Rowan...do you think you are really the last child of the forest? Like, there is no one else in the world- I mean, I don’t imagine your kind could have children with humans, but there are giants and other types…”

Rowan lets her eyes fall upon the ground, her ears drooping.

“No. Even if I were still in my child bearing years...Even if I tried, I will be the last. I may die in the battle that is coming, I may live another hundred years...but I will be the last.”

There is pain in her words, pain that cuts Jon deeply.

“My sister had a child,” she continues, “A young son. I haven’t seen either of them...they are gone now of course.”

Later in the day, while they have paused their lessons, Jon takes Ygritte aside. Rowan is helping the others mix some of the green moss into a thin broth they’d made of the bones of a hare Ygritte had caught earlier that week.

“Can you come with me to the weirwood? I’d rather not do this with Rowan around.”

She looks at him curiously, opening her mouth as though she wants to mock, but holds it in.

She lets some of it out during the walk. The rest of the time, she talks about what the other wildlings had been planning to do to get past the wall themselves.

“Really? You were going to try and climb it? You’re mad, the lot of you.”

“We’d have done it too.”

She wrinkles her nose, deep in thought.

“We would have gone over it, I wonder if anyone’s ever tried to tunnel under it.”

That gives Jon pause.

“That...would take a great deal of effort and work. Don’t think you could do it without being noticed.”

Ygritte shrugs.

“Guess we ought to be glad that the dead aren’t strong as giants.”

They reach the weirwood, and Jon sits by its side, Ygritte off on the other end of the cave opening, trying not to stare.

He asks the tree of his home, of Winterfell.

The words he gets back are immediate, they are coming from Winterfell now, not past. To his surprise, the first thing it speaks of is Lady Catelyn. Jon knew she was a very devout follower of the Seven, and he had never seen her in the Godswood. Yet, she is still there to pray. The fine lines on her face are deeper now, and Jon is suddenly hit with the realization that his siblings must have told her about their past lives too.

To Jon’s shock, the feeling he is overcome with from the trees words is her guilt. She is both praying for serenity in her own heart, to be able to let go of her anger, and for someone else to let go of their own. Her prayers are softly spoken aloud, but the trees can read her face as easily as Jon would read a book.

With a rush, he realizes she is thinking of him. He is quiet when they return to the camp, even when Ygritte tried to rile him up by pulling his curls straight and letting them go.

“Tree got your tongue?” she asks.

He cranes his head over his shoulder to look at her.

“Have you ever had someone treat you unfairly for so long that it actually threw you that they might feel guilty about it?”

Ygritte furrows her brow.

“Who did you asks that tree about?”

“I asked it to show me my home, and it showed me...Lady Catelyn, my father’s wife.”

“Your father’s-”

“I grew up a bastard, and she never once let me forget it.”

“That’s not very motherly,” Ygritte admits, “Though I guess I can sort of see her perspective. You southerners basically blame women for the smallest of weaknesses and yet expect them to forgive men of all of them. Maybe it just finally hit her that you weren’t at fault.”

Jon pulls his knees up to his chest.

“But why couldn’t she have seen that when I was still at Winterfell?”

Ygritte leans over and rubs the tip of her nose softly against a soft spot she’d found behind his ear.

“Jon Snow, you’re a man grown now. Don’t trouble yourself by the thoughts of someone so far away. If she wants you to forgive her, she can ask when she sees you again.”

Jon wraps an arm around her, taking her in, with her rough furs and crooked teeth.

“I wonder what Lady Catelyn would say if I tried to bring you home?”

“Probably some of that fainting you insist Southern women are so fond of doing.”

Jon’s dreams that night are troubled. They start with mostly memories, twisted ones, of Lady Catelyn’s scoldings and admonitions from his childhood. Her words, once just cold and stern, turn venomous and hateful. Then suddenly, her mouth becomes a black hole and Jon shakes himself awake.

Then his dreams shift to his last conversation with uncle Benjen before they had left for the wall. He sees his uncles face, and then it turns dark, cold, and twisted. His misshapen head tilts back, and he screams.

Jon wakes again, and lies there, Ygritte snoring an inch away, and hopes with all his heart that his dreams aren’t prophetic like people speak of.

[asherlockstudy]

Bran Stark and the Long Night

A “Very Potter Musical” theory

Okay, no I did not lose my mind. This is not a Very Potter Musical theory but it discusses some similarities between Harry Potter and Game of Thrones and ends with a little help from Spotify. By writing this down I prove I have learned nothing from my past mistake of interpeting the questionable plot twists in BBC Sherlock through an optimistic perspective. I need to get it out though and I’ll just hope I won’t get too disappointed in the next episodes. Please keep in mind that opinions and preferences amongst GoT fans vary greatly - who is important or evil in my opinion might not be for you. 

This is a long post, so here’s a summary of what is discussed: 

Review of the Long Night

Many parallels between Bran Stark and Harry Potter. Bran is a (dark) grey character in this theory. 

Arya’s importance and whether she is the promised one or not

Personal predictions about the next episodes. All main characters are discussed. Might or might not contain wishful thinking. A whole lot about the prophecy of Azor Ahai which I REALLY want to see fulfilled properly before the show ends. 

Clues from the Spotify Game of Thrones Playlist D&D created for the ending of the show

Some noticeable emphasis on Jaime and Brienne. A LOT of Jaime.

First of all, I belong to the few (?) who loved the episode. I doubt any other TV show will ever manage to achieve anything remotely as ambitious. The cinematography is gorgeous, the actors, the crew, the visual effects, the music... everyone who took part in the making of this episode needs a standing ovation. As for the darkness? It meant to be this way! The darkness was what kept us on edge and it made it harder to understand if a character was dying or not, thus stressing us out even more. The darkness was meant to reinforce the feeling of uncertainty and imminent danger. Whereas Helm’s Deep battle was lit to emphasize on the heroism and the stunts, the battle of Winterfell is darkened to emphasize on its unpredictability and the feeling of death lurking in every corner. So it is unfair to rate this episode with 1s or 2s like so many people do. Even if you didn’t like the ending, there are so many elements here and so much hard work that deserve acknowledgement.

I didn’t like everything though. What did I not like? Well, duh, the ending. I was never interested in the whole “White Walkers” part of the plot and yet Arya killing the Night King in seconds didn’t exactly satisfy even the indifferent me. Don’t get me wrong, I like Arya and she sure is one of the most lethal characters. It just never occurred to me that she could be connected to this particular subplot. The thing, however, that I interpret very differently than most people writing reviews is that to me there was nothing final about this episode. Many fans act as if this was the general ending of the story and I don’t want to be too optimistic but I just don’t see it this way. So what then? Are we going to watch Cersei sip wine for the next four and a half hours until Drogon roasts her in the last second? Are they THAT bad? The fact that the characters in the show consider the Dead their greatest threat does not mean that this is the culmination of the plot. Let alone that the fact that the characters think the threat is gone does not mean the threat is gone. Remember the show we’re watching - the shocking plot twists always happen when you least expect them. If D&D have now become cowards, we must wait until the end to be able to tell. I, for one, consider the fact that they have not left even a mere second, even a still image, even a comment or a sentence about the last three episodes slip as extremely promising. Even the promo for the next episode is literally two scenes and obviously the least important. Anyway, I don’t want to defend them too much because this has been a boomerang for me in the past *cough sherlock cough*.

According to what we got, most have assumed that Bran was the ultimate good guy who had orchestrated everything so Arya, Azor Ahai, would kill the Night King.  My main argument is that Bran Stark...just doesn’t strike me like an *entirely* good guy. I know people have had enough of Bran is the Villain theories but I am not speaking about a full-blown villain and also...just consider it for a bit. The Three-Eyed-Raven is supposedly the eternal enemy of the Night King and is a wise entity. There is a problem in Bran’s case though: the Night King leaves his mark on him. 

Don’t forget, the Night King is known to create wights simply by touching  them. Craster’s living babies. Bloody (though dead) Viserion! The intelligence or the living state of the victim doesn’t seem to be an obstacle. The Night King then assumes complete control over his creations.

 Do you know what this mark reminds me of? 

This. 

Voldemort tried to kill Harry but his curse turned back at him because Lily had just died to save her child (because of love). It left a scar on Harry’s forehead instead of killing him. What happened between Bran and the Night King seems very similar. The Night King wanted to kill or turn into a wight the soon-to-be Third Eyed Raven so he grabbed him by the wrist but Bran wasn’t exactly there so there was an obstacle the Night King couldn’t fully overcome. Bran escapes him and returns to the present with a mark. We’re told that this mark can help the Night King find him. Is this all there is to it though? 

It takes five years for Dumbledore to brace himself and reveal to Harry why his scar is a sensor of Voldemort’s presence and extreme mood shifts. The reason is that the day Voldemort tried to kill Harry a part of his already ruined soul was merged with Harry’s soul which made them both have access to each other’s feelings and thoughts to some degree. As time passed, that connection became stronger, especially as Harry and Voldemort became aware of it. By his fifth year in Hogwarts, Harry’s mood is constantly affected by Voldemort’s; he’s often angry and full of inexplicable hate. He laughs and gets furious and has violent urges all of a sudden without understanding why. He starts getting visions where he is Voldemort.  The good thing in Harry’s case is that Harry’s soul is a pure whole soul that can’t get easily corrupted and that some powerful people know about this connection more or less and try to guard him against it (Dumbledore, Snape, Sirius etc).

If something similar happens to Bran, he is not that lucky. Nobody understands this connection except maybe the previous Third Eyed Raven who is dead. What’s worse, Bran does not only fight against the Night King’s effect on him. Whereas Harry’s soul was pure and healthy and whole, Bran’s soul and identity collapses under the weight of partly being both the Night King (or controlled by him) and the Third Eyed Raven. His mind fills with the memory and the wisdom of the world as well as with the awareness of the intent of death. Obviously, little Brandon Stark’s emotional and mental world doesn’t even make up 1% of the whole consciousness there is now inside him. 

As the Night King gets more powerful day after day, we see an evolution in Bran Stark as well. As the story proceeds, he becomes more and more emotionless and lifeless just like Harry was getting more irritable, envious and violent. Bran starts resembling a dead man. It does not help that the Third Eyed Raven has a pretty neutral stance as well but young Bran suspiciously beats the much older previous Third Eyed Raven in terms of neutrality. When he returns to Winterfell, he has already lost all his feelings for his family. Maybe Bran is still in there but only a last lost hint of him that needs something groundbreaking to happen to cause him to externalize some emotion. 

Another proof that Bran has a more special connection with the Night King than just being tracked down by him is offered to us when a panicked marked Bran (when he still could feel) argues with the Third Eyed Raven that the Night King can’t get to him in that sacred place to which the wise entity responds laconically:  “He can now”. Well, if the mark was just a track medium then the Night King would get stuck in the opening of the cave, aware that Bran is inside yet unable to enter. If he can now get in, this possibly means he is already in, protected by being carried by an innocent, still pure and very much alive being; Bran. The Night King is inside and thus the wights can now follow him there. 

Dumbledore thought it was too cruel to reveal to poor Harry that the only way they could completely kill Voldemort was to kill him too.  Aaaand Dumbledore thought it was important that Voldemort killed them both himself. The only difference here is that Bran is both the equivalents of Harry and Dumbledore in one body, so Bran himself was the one who knew what had to be done. 

When they are discussing the battle strategy, Bran tells everyone the Night King wants to kill him because he wants to erase the memory of this world. Despite this, Bran requires to be left outside in plain sight so that the Night King will find him and everyone assumes he wants to be the bait, something Bran neither confirms nor denies. But what if he wanted to be the sacrifice instead of the bait? Think about it, Bran’s plan makes the Night King supposedly more vulnerable but it also makes the Third Eyed Raven way easier to kill. If Bran waits for him in the open, it’s very easy for the Night King to reach him quickly with the dragon and if he does, then all the living die anyway! If Bran was in the crypts, the Night King would have a much longer way to go into the castle, thus having to confront many more living that could hopefully take him down. Honestly, Bran’s plan just makes the Night King’s job easier.  Moreover, Bran does not ask protection. Theon takes the initiative and swears to protect him and Bran once again says nothing because he doesn’t want to cause disagreements and end up protected in the crypts or with a more skilled fighter to guard him. At this moment Bran realises Theon is about to die for his cause and he allows it to happen for either the greater good or the greater evil. Bran says he doesn’t know if dragon fire can kill the Night King because nobody has tried, therefore making Jon and Daenerys waste all their contribution at trying to take him out in this way. When Daenerys dracarys at him, the Night King shows human traits and smiles sinisterly at her.

Hehe, tricked ya! Has he ever displayed so particular human reactions before?

In short, I believe Bran wanted to die in this battle. What’s questionable is Bran’s allegiances. Does Bran want to die to save everyone else or to ensure the Night King’s plan is successful? I tend to believe the answer is...both. The Raven inside him wants the Night King to fail but Night King’s consiousness inside him wants him to succeed. Either way Bran must die. However, I think currently the Night King’s will inside Bran is winning because Bran would try to pass on somebody else his gift before sacrificing himself. Another question is, is Bran totally honest? What if the Night King's actual plan was to resurrect him or merge with him after killing him which as a result would mean that the Night King would become the Third Eyed Raven, accumulating enormous god-like power? 

Arya prevented Bran’s plan whether his intent was good or bad. With this reasoning, Arya is not Azor Ahai because either she delayed the salvation of the living or she didn’t completely beat the “Final Boss”. Of course, there are problems in this theory. Why did Bran want to save himself in the past, why did he not head alone in the north to find the Night King first and end this without so much mayhem? Also, what about Arya and the dagger he gave her?

Possible answers: 

Bran’s high consciousness as well as his connection to the Night King get stronger minute after minute. It might have taken him some time to process what he needed or wanted to do and how he would achieve it. 

Well, he is a boy in a wheelchair. Nobody will let him just go find the Night King. He can’t escape their notice. Before this, Meera would never agree to take him north obviously.

The dagger thing is the hardest. Can we still assume there is a limit to what Bran knows and can predict? He doesn’t know everything. I think at this point I believe there is truly a God in the ASOIAF world and it seems he has a design for this world indeed. Bran might be more powerful than a regular person but he still is a tool in the divine plan. Besides, upon planning the tactics for the battle, Bran does not seem exactly sure of the outcome. Bran seems to know vaguely who is important but he does not know exactly how. Perhaps Three Eyed Raven Bran sensed Arya was meant to have that dagger but he didn’t know yet what for and whether it would benefit his Night King side or not. Furthermore, back then the Night King’s effect on him was weaker so that Bran was a better entity than he is now. 

Now let’s talk about the actual battle. When Melisandre sets the trench on fire, Theon seals his death by telling Bran that the fire is lit and the wights can not proceed (and therefore reach to them). Then - oh so coincidentally - Bran is like “OK thanx Theon gotta go now bye”. He then wargs into ravens and he leads them straight to the Night King. The ravens reach him and then and only then the Night King commands the wights to fall in the fire and create a bridge for the rest to cross. We see this on screen clearly so I wonder why people don’t talk about it at all. I would make a gif but it’s too damn dark! (Taking back all good words I said for the darkness lol). In short, Bran gets close to the Night King and sets him into action. Bran betrays them all. Is this a necessary evil for the greater good or just plain evil? Almost everyone was slaughtered after this, so I doubt Bran didn’t want to be in the crypts so more people would survive...bullshit. (Of course, all these apply if we blindly accept that the battle strategy was not just badly written.)

A similar scene happens in the seventh season when Bran wargs ravens to spy on the Dead and although they all are motionless, standing corpses, when the ravens arrive the Night King abruptly jumps to...errr...life and looks at them as if fully aware it’s Bran inside them. This terrifies Bran but also probably allows him to learn about the special nature of his connection with him. 

In Dragonstone, the first episode of the seventh season, the second scene is the dead marching South and the scene cuts to Bran warging while Meera drags him to the Wall. 

Back in the Long Night, Bran stays at warg state throughout the whole battle after this point. Now look... if you can. Apologies for terrible quality.  

Bran never leaves his warg state until the exact moment the Night King arrives and has direct eye contact with him. Therefore, Bran does not need to guide him anymore. He returns to himself and thanks Theon essentially for dying for nothing. However, Theon serves his purpose, delaying Bran’s death until Arya arrives. Then he dies betrayed, paying for his betrayal of Robb Stark. Bran then waits passively for the Night King to kill him. Their interaction is basically all but hateful. The Night King just stares at him with something close to content in his face, while Bran looks...happy?  

This is Bran’s happy face. I can’t unsee it!!!!! It’s excited or impatient or something like that... and Bran makes something like nod with his eyes and then the Night King tries to grab his sword..... but Arya arrives out of nowhere and kills him. Look at Bran. He doesn't look at the least bit happy or grateful. His - granted - blank expression somehow shows me he was thinking "How the fuck do I undo this now?". Look at Arya smiling at him after they are all saved and Bran’s reaction. 

You’re safe now, brother!

Yeah, I am so happy right now I could cut you with the dagger I gave you.. 

For an extremely expressionless face, I feel like Bran is probably screaming internally here. Tell me, does he look happier with the Night King or Arya?!

Let’s focus on Arya now. As a start, Arya does not fit any of the criteria for Azor Ahai except maybe the first one (Braavos' water dance fight style and strong connection of the city with water???). She hasn't killed a Lannister-lion yet and the Nissa Nissa thing makes the probabilities even slimmer. Furthermore, she doesn't kill the Night King with her Needle but with a dagger instead. No fire, no red colour, nothing. Actually, we see her repeatedly asking Gendry to make her the weapon. We’ve therefore been told that Arya won’t have her sword so she doesn't have a Lightbringer either. Three swords get a lot of mentions in the show: the Needle which Arya did not use at all throughout the battle (she literally uses every possible weapon except the Needle), Heartsbane which Sam gives to Jorah who then falls and Oathkeeper which Jaime gives to Brienne as a token of his love.

Arya was not Azor Ahai but she still functioned according to the God's plan. The God (whoever he is, the old, the 7, the Lord of Light or the Many-faced one) doesn’t want the memory of this world to be lost. What perhaps Bran had not thought (or did not want) is that he should not die until he passed his gift to someone else. If Bran's plan worked, the world as everyone knew it would change forever. When Bran explains what he is now to everyone, Sam interferes and says they should never let him die. Someone must be the Third Eyed Raven so that the humans will keep being exactly that - humans with history, backgrounds and memories. Here we might be getting the answer about why on earth Sam did not die in the battle. Sam understands better than anyone the importance of this entity. This might hint that he is going to become the Third Eyed Raven once Bran dies or contribute to find the chosen one. The archmaester in the Citadel told Sam something similar: “We are the memory of this world.”  

So, things were not going according to plan and also the real Azor Ahai had not showed up yet thus Arya was meant to save the day. Everything Arya did led up to this. She was filled with hate when her father was executed by Joffrey so that she would find the most skilled assassins to train her for revenge. Arya prepares the way for Azor Ahai. Beric was brought up to life to save Arya. The Hound was not killed by Brienne or Arya in order to then save the latter. The Hound most likely has more to do in the story (face Mountain) which is why Beric dies and Sandor does not.

Let’s go to the plot armour. Arya's timing saves Sansa, Tyrion, Missandei and Varys. During the battle, something of utmost importance happens in the crypts. Sansa plants an idea in Tyrion's mind - Daenerys is the obstacle in their way to be a couple. What's next; clever Tyrion will once again be the victim of a woman who promised him love and this is how Daenerys will be betrayed for love, fulfilling the prophecy. Tywin always admitted Tyrion's intelligence but despised him for being so weak in front of his vices; women and alcohol. Tywin cruelly tried to teach him a lesson twice, first with Tysha and then with Shae. But Tyrion did not pay attention and maybe his ultimate downfall is going to be Sansa. Missandei overheard what they said and she is still loyal to Daenerys. Tyrion is in danger. Varys heard them too but he might side with Tyrion. Let's see if mighty Tywin was cruel but spot on.

Arya's timing saves Greyworm who has promised to protect Missandei. Missandei is in danger now that Sansa knows she can rush to her Queen and tell her what she heard. Perhaps Greyworm survived so that the truth will reach Deanerys.

Arya's timing did not save Jorah but he held on enough to protect his Queen . Daenerys loses her last truly unyielding supporter. She is now more powerless than ever. Sansa has the upper hand in the North and if Dany opposes to Jon Snow, her fate seems doomed no matter what Missandei and Greyworm do. Then again, if Sansa finds out about Jon’s heritage, she might start being less friendly too. A cousin starts getting too distant especially when power is involved. 

Arya's timing saves Jon, the heir, whose purpose however was not to defeat the White Walkers. His purpose was to tell the world of their existence or he might have a great part to play in the last war. 

Arya's timing saves Tormund, Jaime, Brienne and Podrick. Out of all these only Brienne and Tormund naturally make sense to be still alive because of their strength and skill. And then we have one-handed Jaime and Podrick who honestly should have died in the first ten minutes. While everyone else fights for their life, Brienne and Jaime keep constantly saving each other almost like they are in their own world. Podrick surviving is very weird but we have already been shown that the boy has hidden talents. Podrick has not completed his arc. 

As for Jaime, Bran told him he shouldn't have him killed before he got to help “them”. And then the battle comes and he merely survives. Arya's timing saves him (and his love) in the last second. Jaime did nothing important for or against the Night King or Bran yet. Jaime was trapped in the battle, hardly able to survive let alone reach to Bran. Sure, Jaime killed probably hundreds of wights that night but he didn’t affect the grand scheme of things in this battle like Bran implied. Yet, Bran literally waited for him a whole night out in the dark cold. This must mean we have a lot more to see in the next episodes. 

Arya's timing saves Gendry and Sam but not Edd. Gendry still has a claim to the throne. Edd died so that Sam could live. I already spoke of Sam's importance. But something weird happens when Edd saves Sam. Sam falls down exhausted but something catches his attention. See the gifs in @nochancennochoice ‘s post: there is some debate on whether Sam sees Brienne, Jaime fighting with his two hands oooor Jaime fighting with a right hand. I think it looks like the third option is the right one and it would explain why confused Sam has a pausing moment in all this mayhem and forgets the world around him until Edd calls him back to reality. Sam sees Jaime through the flames, being in a delirious state, fighting like crazy with what looks like his right hand suspiciously a lot. We can be sure Jaime did not use his non-existent hand though - so could this be a vision in the flames by the Lord of Light...you know...a more accurate one than the ones Melisandre sees? Jaime was indeed fighting like crazy but Sam sees a changed image through the fire that puzzles him quite a bit. We’ll soon see if there was hidden importance in this oddly specific scene and, once more, it would explain why Samwell Tarly would survive the long night.

This does not mean Jaime is definitely the legendary warrior. However, he is the most likely contender in my opinion because a) he leaves his false vile identity in the past inside smoke and water (let’s pretend the baths had salts), b) he indirectly kills a lion, his father, c) he's truly the only character who is basically exclusively driven by love and we know Azor Ahai must make the ultimate sacrifice. Perhaps though and dreadfully so, Jaime still hasn't killed a lion because his father's murder is not on him. This might be the fulfilment of the Valonqar prophecy and Jaime gets to kill Cersei. At this point the story will have proceeded a lot and Jaime and Brienne will have confessed their love or acted upon it. Jaime has saved Brienne more times than we can count and especially in the first incidents Brienne asks him why, both in the show and the books. Jaime never responds in the show but in the books we see that he has meaningful dreams that lead his way. Jaime was destined to find Brienne, love her and keep her alive. Jaime gives her his sword and Brienne bonds with it so much that it almost already is part of her entity. The last challenge for Azor Ahai is to sacrifice his willing loving wife Nissa Nissa whose soul will become one with the sword and this will create the Lightbringer. It pains me to even think about it but Nissa Nissa doesn't sound like Cersei. Brienne will die so that Jaime can meet his fate.

Three guesses who.

After that Jaime and Oathkeeper will end this story by killing Bran. Bran still has a good side in him and it’s probable that he will guide Jaime to do it. I'm gonna cheat here with my evidence but this kinda explains why Nikolaj Coster Waldau loves the conclusion of the story but seems kinda sympathetic when Gwendoline Christie says she had trouble processing the end of her character and needed long walks at the beach and such. When asked, Nikolaj probably revealed too much at some point because he said the story is about that good guy Jaime and that Bran boy who sacrificed himself to save the world. Of course, it’s Nik. He might as well be saying what he wants the end to be lol. However... Bran did not technically sacrifice himself in the Long Night, right? If he knew Arya was coming, then he definitely did not. Either way, the outcome is the same - Bran has not sacrificed himself yet. 

Back to Bran and the Night King. People in and out of the show wonder why the wights became so powerful and persistent in this era. Furthermore, the Night King seems much more conscious and lifelike than all the other moving corpses. Maybe we can conclude the explanation with the help of Hodor's backstory. Everyone kept telling Bran to not lose himself in the visions but he ignored them just like he ignored Catelyn and kept climbing towers. Everyone is paying Bran's disobedience and he is going to pay with his life. When the Third Eyed Raven was asleep, Bran travelled into an indefinite time period and got his mark from the Night King. This might have happened long before Bran was even born or before he got paralysed. Therefore the Night King already was connected to Bran but Bran had to get the mark first to start realising and reinforcing the connection. The connection the Night King has to Bran gives him some glimpses of a human living self which is why he is superior to the wights and the White Walkers and shows rudimentary human logic and sense of purpose and identity. With the same reasoning, it’s only after the mark that Bran loses all emotions and vigor.

Upon first meeting Jaime, Jaime who is probably Azor Ahai immediately tried to kill Bran. When Catelyn asked him much later why he threw her son out of the window, Jaime did not respond even though soon afterwards he confessed he sleeps with his sister so hiding this was not the reason he did not respond. It was fate that drove Jaime's hand because even though he doesn't know it, Jaime is driven by a force to become the leader against the darkness. Bran did not die from an 100% deadly fall because although it was Jaime who did it, it was not the right time yet because he wasn’t yet reborn as Azor Ahai and the Night King did not yet live through Bran. Bran's first encounter with the fighter of the Lord of Light is the beginning for his journey to meet his destiny and as soon as Jaime cripples him, he starts getting visions that call him to the North. We might say that Jaime sets the evil going in order for good to fight back and prevail. The things I do for love... Fighting evil?

And now...some more evidence about the story can be taken from the spotify playlist that hints at the ending of the show according to D&D. Let’s see the songs in the very end of the list:

Gold Lion... In the “Knight of the Seven Kingdoms” Tyrion and Jaime reminince on their past “glorious” days when Jaime was a Golden Lion and Tyrion was a whoremonger. Jaime specifically says his golden lion days belong to the past (which is like the most basic foreshadowing of tragic irony) but the playlist disagrees. Here are some lyrics from the song: 

Gold lion's gonna tell me where the light is... Tell me what you saw... We'll build a fire in your eyes...

If this is not the most ultimate “Jaime is Azor Ahai with Lightbringer” evidence, I don’t know what is. 

Then we have Here’s Your Future, which is a song in which God basically is considered responsible for burdening his children with sin. God forces them to sin so that the duty of atoning and cleansing the world falls on them in order to get worthy of  the future God has prepared for them. This really sounds like the Lord of Light so I do believe we’re going to have Azor Ahai by the end of the show. It is very similar to the concept of Jaime being destined to be depraved only to be led in the way of atonement, redemption and then glory. Melisandre and all sorts of God faith have been given a huge part to be totally meaningless. 

Since I mentioned Melisandre, she was meant to die. Maybe this was the only vision R’hllor truly had for her; that she should die after this fight in the snow. Why? Ser Davos is the last main character Arya saves repeatedly. Ser Davos and Melisandre’s fates have been interwined for long even though they hate each other. Ser Davos witnesses her suicide. Why did Melisandre have to die, in terms of fate? Maybe because, from now on, there aren’t going to be any resurrections. Whoever dies, dies. Why did they change the plot so that Melisandre would need a magical necklace to stay alive? 

Maybe because only one character will have the chance to defy death from now on. Chances are it will be a woman. Why is Ser Davos who literally can’t fight still alive all those years? Maybe because he saw Melisandre drop the necklace and then age and die rapidly. Davos will keep the necklace and probably save a woman he deems worthy of a second chance in life. 

And then of course “Love is Blindness”. There are only two couples this could apply to; Jaime and Brienne and Tyrion and Sansa but I’m positive Sansa only wants to use Tyrion to weaken Daenerys and fight Cersei. So the only truly fitting love story is that of Jaime and Brienne.

As if all this was not wishful thinking...imagine Brienne sacrificing herself, Jaime becoming a heartbroken Azor Ahai and the ever surviving Davos putting the necklace around her neck, to the one he seemed to be so appreciative and fond of back in the fireplace...

Okay, okay aren’t all theories partly what we wish it happens? It’s perfectly reasonable if you find this way too much, way too complicated, way too wishful and subjective. If there’s something in here that makes sense to you, you can take this and leave all the rest. I am aware I completely dismissed some basic characters. Let’s say something short about them: Daenerys in my opinion won’t make it to the throne. Not only that but she’s going to be one of the first main characters to die. Even next episode seems probable to me. Arya soon will have her arc completed. I think she reached the peak of her importance. Of all the Starks, I think Sansa is the one who has a chance for the Iron Throne somehow. Right now, she is the most competent in the game of thrones. Littlefinger lives through her. She has admitted to admiring Cersei. One Stark will survive because there must always be a Stark in Winterfell. I honestly have no idea what will happen to Jon Snow. Everyone is sure he’s Azor Ahai but actually there is no evidence the Prince who was Promised and Azor Ahai are the same person. Targaryen heritage is only mentioned in the PWWP prophecy, not that of Azor Ahai. Nevertheless, Jon literally prays to die again. I don’t know if I feel content with the idea of him sitting on the Iron Throne and being depressed all his life because of it. 

Cersei of course will die. Tyrion won’t be the one to do it. I would hate it if Arya was the one to do it by wearing one of the brothers’ face. It would be so emotionally anti-climactic and Arya already had her huge killing moment however in the Spotify list there is a song named “Dead Skin Mask” under the “Killer Wolf” one. God forbid. I hope she uses her skills to someone other than a Lannister because there is also an extremely disturbing and explicit song which is named “Sister” and guess what, the rather problematic lyrics are about a young boy who slept with his much older sister who is...nuts.

I was only sixteen but I guess that's no excuse

Oh, sister Don't put me on the street again Oh, sister I just want to be your friend

These were the most tolerable lyrics. (Wtf Prince?) I mean, the point of the song in the list is pretty clear. Jaime will meet Cersei once more and let’s hope he’ll kill her for ruining 20+ years of his life. Right now, Jaime doesn’t look particularly interested in Cersei. It seems as if everything regarding her has died inside him. Therefore, something will happen that will fill Jaime with wrath. The scenarios are two: 

Bronn kills Tyrion. 

Bronn tries to kill Jaime, Brienne defends him and falls. 

Both heartbreaking possibilities (although admit it, they are awesome in terms of dramaturgy). Both are terrifying to me but my desperation makes me wish for the first option. The fact that Bronn said in the fifth season that he does not kill women really DOES NOT help. However, if Brienne is Nissa Nissa then Brienne will die after Cersei so Bronn might indeed kill Tyrion. Besides, Nissa Nissa’s sacrifice could also have some figurative meaning instead of foreseeing a literal death.

All these of course are just personal speculations and wishes. Cersei might be Nissa Nissa. Or Arya might have indeed been Azor Ahai. Jaime and Brienne might just live happily ever after (without Davos’ help) or Jaime might fall heroically. Daenerys might live and rule. Bran maybe is an awesome dude. 

I will just say that judging from the way the eighth season is structured, I think D&D played a little game. They featured the huge, foretold battle in the third episode. If the heroes of the whole story were also the heroes of this episode (Arya, Bran, Melisandre) then perhaps it would be wiser if this episode was the fifth or at least the fourth. We are still not exactly in the middle of the season since the total duration of the last three episodes is going to be longer. So if this was the decisive turn of the plot, why would it be featured in the first half of the season? Furthermore, D&D promoted the third episode beyond belief while they kept the next episodes entirely in the dark. That’s got to mean something. Hopefully, D&D planned to create huge expectations for the third episode, therefore not allowing the viewers to build defenses for what would happen next. They tried to satisfy those expectations for the third episode with the exceptional cinematography, direction, music and unprecedented ominous atmosphere they created. This could potentially be the most important deviation from Martin’s future version, in which the Long Night might indeed be the prophecised event that would make Azor Ahai rise and most main characters die. D&D though want the show to be as unpredictable as possible and they have an Iron Throne to give which might mean they used the Long Night as a distraction, however epic. 

[twilighcreed]

Title: Wolves Bane 

Pairing: Daenerys Targaryen X Male Stark Reader 

Author:  TwilighCreed/DawnWrites 

Word Count: 4.9k+

Warning: Violence, explicit language, slight sexual content, mention of blood, slightly depressed reader, fluff, slight angst. Spoilers for season one and seven. Short chapter? 

Summary:  Y/N Stark was forced into exile after helping three fugitives escape beyond The Wall from King Robert. Four years after his exile, he receives news that Lord Arryn is dead and his family could be in immense danger. After accepting an offer to help get him home to his family, Y/N is to work for Magister Illyrio Mopatis and protect the princess, Daenerys Targaryen. What the lone wolf did not expect was to fall in love with a woman he could never have…   

Author Note: Hey guys! Once more I apologize for the long wait. I’ve finally got this part done and will start working on the next one tonight or very soon. I will finish this series. I really do enjoy writing it. I just do not like rushing my writing and spitting it out, I like to put quality in my work so you guys can enjoy it and I am not wasting your time. I did decide to put this into four parts instead of three so that I have more to work with and I can put the chapters out faster. Like that works... lol Next part will be solely around Dany and male reader. I did kind of find it difficult to write Dany since we do not get much of her personality before the start of GOT. So I am going to be going off how the book describes her. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy and have a wonderful rest of your day/night! 

Enjoy! 

Part One ► Pilot   [PREVIOUS] Part Two ► The Dragon’s Bodyguard   [HERE] Part Three ► The Lone Wolves Howl   [COMING SOON] Part Four ► The Rouge Wolf of the North

ONE WEEK LATER

298 AC, The Free Cities of Essos, Pentos

There was a strange and peculiar scrutiny Y/N felt the moment he dismounted from his horse and step foot through the northern gate of the Free City of Pentos. He was used to getting the odd looks and glances from time to time, but it was much more protruding this time. He wondered what was so bizarre that had them all gawking at him like he was some sort of hero out of the many stories his wet nurse use to read to him as a child. It was uncomfortable, but he did his best to shake it off and seem as if their stares did not concern nor distract him from his objective.

“Go to Pentos and ask for the man named Illyrio Mopatis. He’ll know what to do.” Lord Varys told him back at the docks in Braavos.

Their talk did not last much longer after Varys told him of the news of  Jon Arryn, Lord of the Eyrie and Hand of the King. It consisted of Y/N getting very heated when asking about his father and mother, but Varys seemed to have prepared for their encounter and spoke with soft words. He had even given Y/N a letter from his mother.

“Why are you giving this to me?” Y/N asked, his eyes holding a deep emotion of pain and his hands shaking as he held the neatly folded letter.

“Your mother wanted me to give this to you a long time ago. I couldn’t find you, but now that I have…”

“You just love playing your sick little games… Don’t you?”

Y/N could still feel the bitter angry he felt at the moment, but he did what he could to suppress it and think of something else that did not involve his precious family.

Holding the leather reins with a redundant tightness, Y/N walked cautiously among the people of Pentos, navigating himself with the prior knowledge he gathered from taverns, traveling merchants, and the locals, he was able to find himself in the center of the Market. Merchants called out to the bypassers with their lowest prices, farmers trading their livestock and tailors showing their latest work in patterns and designs. The overbearing smell of spices surrounded Y/N as he walked past stalls, he could even taste the heat of the spices on the tip of his tongue just by smell. There was not a moment he did not feel suffocated by the heat, different smells, and the people―he needed to leave.

Pulling on the reins to lead himself and his mount, Y/N started to make a break to the other side of the market when he felt someone place a heavy weight on his shoulder, forcing Y/N to turn around a face his intruder. What he was not expect was the broken nose and busted lip of the Captain.

Before Y/N could reach down and pluck his sword from his hip to defend himself―he saw the inevitable form of the Captain’s large fist and the expected splittingㅡnose crunching pain before he blacked out.

291 AC, Westeroes, Winterfell 

It was cold. It was very cold, colder than Y/N could ever remember. A young boyㅡno older than eleven namedaysㅡlaid underneath the warmth of deerskin pelts and furs, his hair sticking to his forehead from sweating so profusely, his eyelids closed and his breath erratic. He was battling a terrible fever.

“There has to be something you can do, Maister?” Eddar asked, his voice cracking with desperation.

Luwin gave a deep sigh, glancing over at the sick young boy and his concerned mother by his bed.

“I’m afraid I’ve done all I can. It is up to the boy and the gods now.” Maester Luwin regretfully informed, “I will supply him with the milk of the poppy for the pain, but that is all I can do, Lord Stark.”

Eddar shook his head, looking over at his firstborn son and to his wife Catelyn, he felt a pain in his heart to see his son and wife. It broke him to see them this way knowing he could do nothing about it. But it did not mean he wasn’t going to try. 

Discussing more discreetly with the Maister, Eddar and Luwin talk about other resolution for the young Lord. Neither finding an answer.

Catelyn sat near the end of her sons’ bed, her back to the warm blazing fire in the pit and a cold wet cloth in her hand. Slowly she started to rub the cloth all along the boy’s forehead, her thoughts running wild, blaming herself for her son falling ill.

If she had just kept her mouth shut and Jon did not hear her spoke so foul about him, Y/N wouldn’t have gone about his and fell in the lake. Out of all the frozen rivers and lakes, why that one?

Catelyn let out a soft sob, a tear rolling down her face. She leaned over and gently kissed her sons’ temple.

“Is Y/N gonna be alright, mother?” Robb asked, looking over at his older brother in bed, Jon, Bran, Sansa and even little Arya next to him, looking up at their mother with hopeful eyes. Jon seemed to be the most concerned out of the others. 

Catelyn secretly hated that Y/N and Jon were so close…

Not wanting to frighten her children, Catelyn gave an uncertain nod. Noticing how short she was, Cat gave them a much more determined nod. “He’s going to be alright,” she said, giving them an encouraging smile, “Y/N is strong. He’s a Stark, he was born in the cold. Nothing can hurt him.”

Jon looked down at his folded hands; backing away slightly. He knew he was responsible for Y/N going after him. He would never leave Jon alone. A soft sniffle left his lips, his black curly locks bouncing with each movement he made, catching young Robbs attention. Going over to his brother’s side, Robb placed a small hand on his shoulder.

“This is all my fault… if I hadn't―”

“Of course it’s not your fault! Y/N shouldn’t have been the fool and walked across the lake!”

Jon shook his head.

“He pushed me out of the way… I was supposed to be the one. I should be in that bed―not him.”

Ned glanced over at the young boys when he overheard Jon’s guilty confession. Walking over to where his son and nephew were, he got down on his knee. Looking over at Robb, he gave his son a short nod dismissing him before looking back at Jon. 

Placing two hands on his shoulder, Eddar made Jon look up at him. When the boy refused...

“Jon, look at me.”

“It’s my fault, Lord StarkㅡIts my fault.”

“I know, I know…”

“I didn’t mean for this to happen, I swear!”

Eddar smoothed out Jon’s ruffled hair, looking into the boys’ eyes. Eddar was not ignorant of his son and his nephews growing brotherly bond, Y/N saw Jon as a brother as he should, even though the young boy was smarter then he looked. Y/N saw right through Ned, even for a boy of nine.

“Listen to me, Jon. You stop this nonsense right now. We both knew Y/N wasn’t going to leave you alone in those woods, you are his brother. Brothers look after one another, you are no exception. Do you understand?”

Jon gave Ned a soft nod.

“Good. Now clear your eyes. Y/N is going to be alright.”

THREE DAYS LATER

298 AC, The Free Cities of Essos, Pentos

Y/N had woke with a startle. His body covered in a thin layer sweat he did not realize he even created. His throat was parched and his body was sore and heavy. It was as if a large boulder was placed on top of him keeping him pressed against the soft material of what he presumed to be a bed. Everything seemed to hurt, his nose is what kept his attention. The consent throbbing seemed to follow the rhythm of his heart and the tightness he felt with every breath. For a moment Y/N could not remember what happened, his head was pounding too much for him correctly recall the events that lead him hereㅡwherever here is.

With the little strength he could muster up, Y/N pride open his eyes. At first, he was blinded by whatever source of light was coming through the room, but slowly his eyes adjusted. Formerly, everything was a soft haze, each time he blinked and rubbed his eyes lazily, the smeared objects began to take shapes around him. When his eyesight became normal again, he was able to look around himself more thoroughly.

Instead of being tossed in an alley or left on the streets of the market, he was in a large open room. It was bright, the large windows were covered by a soft velvet see-through sheet that moved with each breath of wind. The room consisted of several white pillars, a small stone makeshift fireplace in the corner as well as wooden bookshelves that held trinkets, rolled parchment. A desk was shoved at the bottom of the window giving whoever sat there a clear view of the outside world. Makeshift decorations littered the walls beautiful, gold lining the bottom and top of each pillar. Orange, red and bright colors of sort themed the room giving off a warmth, almost welcoming vibe. Feeling underneath him Y/N felt the silk sheets and soft blanket that he had been lying on. 

A bed?

Where am I, he thought.

Thoughts of paranoia quickly spread and Y/N was quick to get to his feet, regretfully, a sudden burst of agonizing pain almost crippled Y/N to his knees. Settling back onto the bed in a sitting position, Y/N looked down at his side where he noticed bandages wrapped around his ribcage. With a shaky hand, he quickly started to unwrap the makeshift bandages. When the bandages were gone he saw no blood or any wounds on the surface, but he did see a large patch of discolored skin on his left side. It was tender to the touch and it looked horrible. Dark purple shades covered a large portion of his left side following his ribcage, spots of red and a light pink even visible.

“What the hell?” 

“You were ambushed by a group of pirates down at the market if you were wondering.” a light grating voice filled the emptiness of his room. Startling Y/N into looking up at whoever the intruder was.

A man stood near an archwayㅡa doorway Y/N presumedㅡwith his hands by his side and a rather curious look in his eyes. He was a large man no doubt, and by the flamed silk grab he wore, Y/N judged the man was of great wealth. Was he one of the Magisters of Pentos? He had to be. He seemed to hold a delicacy within himself, even with a man of his size, the way he struts over near Y/N’s bed seemed to tell him that much. He wore loose clothing as well; it reminded Y/N of the gowns his mother used to wear.

“Lucky for you, before those thieves could make out with you and your small living, my guards stopped them. It’s rather a coincidence that my men stumbled upon you, don’t you think Lord Stark?”

Y/N went rigged, “How do you knowㅡ”

“Lord Varys told me of your arrival. With his description, it’s not hard to tell an exiled Lord away from the common man.”

Y/N cringed at the words ‘exiled Lord’. He didn’t have to add salt to the wound.

“And you’re supposed to be Magister Illyrio?” Y/N asked, strengthening his back to appear much more than he was. Although it was a poor attempt, Illyrio admired it. 

“I am, Illyrio Mopatis, Magister of Pentos.” he corrected, brushing away the attempt on insult. “And you are under my care and roof, I suggest you act more generous to your host.”

Y/N glanced over at Illyrio before looking back directly in front of him. He didn’t like the idea of being treated as a lower, he was born a Lord, but considering his statues, Y/N was nothing in Essos, just a common mercenary. 

Putting his pride aside, Y/N slightly lowered his head.

“Forgive me, Magister. The trip was long.” Y/N spoke.

Illyrio seemed pleased, it almost made Y/N gage. He never bowed down to anyone, he hated it.

“Good. Now that we have that out of the way… how are you feeling?” Illyrio asked, taking a seat in front of Y/N.

“Like shit.”

Illyrio didn’t seem surprised.“Mhm… expected. Before my guards could retrieve you, the men who attacked you beat you. Your ribs where badly bruised in the process and they left you with a bloody nose, other than that you should be fine. A few cuts and bruises are all.”

Y/N nodded, “And my pursuers?”

“I’ve sent word for their arrest.”

“I have never taken Magisters at the type to call for a bounty. You are just a merchant.”

Illyrio seemed to slightly smirk.

Another man with tricks, Y/N though grumpy.

Shaking his head, Y/N looked around to room before going back to Illyrio.

“How long was I asleep for?”

“Three days. You like to push your body beyond the ordinary. That sort of thing will get you killed.”

Y/N frowned but said nothing.

“I have a proposition to offer if you’d like to hear it.”

“And what if I don’t?” Y/N challenged.

Illyrio sighed, “Then I suppose going home back to your family is impossible. Help me and I will help you.”

Y/N knew that he had little to no chance of getting back to Westeros and to the north without allies or help, it was impossible. If he was right then the pirates must have taken his gold and with that his ticket to get home. He needed the coin to get on a ship and sail west. If it wasn’t for those damn pirates he would be so close…

With a sigh of regret, Y/N nodded his head, “Okay.”

After Y/N was cleaned, redressed of his bandages and thrown into a comfortable cotton tunic and a pair of trousers, he and Illyrio walked the neatly designed layout of the Magister’s home. They were tailed by two well-dressed slaves, their head down as they followed. Y/N was surprised to find slaves. Pentos was supposed to be a free city, but from the looks of it, it wasn’t.

Y/N had learned from in a course of a few hours the many boundaries Magister Illyrio had in place for him, the rules and layouts of what Illyrio expected of Y/N and what should not be tampered with. He was very detailed in each his rules, making sure Y/N knew everything that needed to be known, even the consequences if he ever stepped out of line. It was a lot, but nothing Y/N couldn’t handle. This was easy compared to the ruling as a Lord. Although he did have to listen to each and every word that came out of Illyrio’s mouth, he did take the time to study Magister Illyrio and his large manse.

“… it is best if you are discrete in these halls, you are a bodyguard, nothing else. Speak little and when in the presence of the Targaryen’s, keep your eyes low and your tongue lower, especially around the King. We don’t need him getting suspicious of who you are.” Illyrio spoke quickly, ushering the both of them into a large room.

It was well decorated, the room’s colors were similar to the rest of the manse Y/N had seen. Red and orange, a common theme he found. It had a large desk in the middle, parchment and open letters scattered all along the surface. 

This must be his office.

“I have informed my guest that you are a hired mercenary,ㅡseeing that you are well known for that line of workㅡyou are to be a guard for the Targaryens, more specifically the princess,” Illyrio said, walking over to his desk while his slaves shut the door behind both men, leaving them alone.

Y/N was taken back when Illyrio had informed him that the Targaryen’s where his guest. He was housing them, guarding them, feeding and providing clothing and every possible needed. It took him not long to suspect Illyrio of supporting the Targaryen rein, there was no other explanation other than he wanted to use them for some sick joke. 

There was no secret that some did still support the Targaryens even after their tragic downfall, but knowing that the Starks, his family, was one of the reasons why the Targaryens were defeated during Robert’s Rebellion, it unsettled the wolf greatly. He understood why there were so many rules to conceal his true identity.

Sitting in a chair opposite Illyrio, Y/N tried his best not to disturb his side. Breathing was painful, let alone moving and walking, he was already feeling fatigued.

“You want meㅡa Stark, the reason her family is here in the first placeㅡto protect a Targaryen? Is your Unsullied not enough?”

“I’m afraid not. Viserys is convinced King Robert has sent hired knives. I want the King to have a comfortable stay while in my house. You are to be that comfort.”

Y/N narrowed his eyes, doubting the man of his true intentions but said nothing. 

This is for your home, for your family, don’t screw it up Y/N, he reminded himself.

Nodding his head carefully, Y/N couldn’t help but think of all the things that could go wrong with this. If one thing fell out of place and who he was, was discovered, any chance of home was gone. He felt a sudden sickening feeling fall at the pit of his stomach, it was a lot of pressure, but Y/N knew how to cover up his emotions well.

“When do I start?”

THE NEXT DAY

Signs of the morning started to show as the day passed into tomorrow. The events of yesterday left behind where they belonged at the chase for the future once more began. The beautiful dark moon made its way down past the mountain range into the far distance, it’s following shadows close behind as the sun’s bright rays started to stretch across Essos, waking the land from its dreams.

Y/N laid across the sheets of his newfound bed, laying on his back to avoid any pain or any possible further damage to his bruised ribs. They had a different source of medicine here than Westeros; he had to deal with the throbbing sensation as best as he could. Y/N had a high pain tolerance, however, the continual ache was driving him mad. He would do anything to have the milk of a poppy right about now.  

Thankfully, it was quiet in the room; the only sound was the distant splashes of water from the courtyard’s fountain and the waking servants. The birds singing their morning tune could also be heard in the far distances. It was peaceful.

The light from outsides sun started to filter through the cream curtains, pushing the darkness back and lighting up the room with warmth. It took the wolf several moments to stir in his bed, a soft groan mixed with his movement gave the sign of him waking. He gave out a deep sigh, his muscles relaxed and his mind at ease, his eyes closed recalling the delightful dream he had. 

No not a dream: a memory.

He remembered running across the open grass fields that laid in front of Winterfell’s great walls, a wooden play sword in hand with one thing in mind: don’t let them catch you! He remembered his brother Robb’s battle cry as he tried to best his older brother in a spar. 

Jon watching on a fallen trunk with Theon Greyjoy leaning against a tree, and a young Bran watching from the tree’s canopy. He loved to climb. He could remember sidestepping and swinging his play sword at Robb’s knees, resulting in him watching the young wolf fall. Y/N would never forget the face his brother gave him when he once again, won. Robb always tried to beat his brother.

Deeply inhaling, Y/N opened his eyes lazily, letting them fall on the ceiling above him, silently thinking to himself. He wondered what his father would say when they saw each other. Would he even recognize the young man from a fourteen-year-old boy he saw sail away on a ship to Essos? He doubted, but he still had his hopes.

Getting up from his bed, Y/N allowed himself a second to stretch his sore musclesㅡcareful of his sideㅡbefore cleaning himself up and getting ready for the days work. Redressing his bandages himself, he took his time to dress before strapping on his black leather stained armor. It took more time than necessary, but he was able to manage to drown out the pain with more pleasant thoughts. 

Strapping on his sword, Frost, he gave the blade a few practice swings before sheathing it. Deeming himself ready, Y/N stepped out of his room and into the halls of Illyrio’s manse.

Remembering the way to Illyrio’s quarters, Y/N took his time to observe the manse in much more detail than before. He wasn’t able to see much while he walked with the Magister, so he took this as an opportunity to get a lay of the area, especially if he was to call this place home for a time.

Like most of his observations, the color theme was the same. The halls were open with archways and tall marble beams, the floors were tile and the halls decorated with a soft elegance. Y/N did notice a large number of Unsullied soldiers guarding post, doorways, as well as several of the main gates.

Viserys must be terrified if there are so many guards, Y/N quietly though.

Walking down a short flight of stairs and into a much more open and greener area, Y/N quickly took notice of the tall green Evergreen trees and neatly cut bushes and a large amount of vegetation growing within the courtyard. It was undoubtedly beautiful with the endless different breeds of trees and blooming flowers, Y/N was almost afraid that if he touches the velvet petals they would turn away from his cold fingers.

Walking further into the courtyard, Y/N spotted a large statue of the anatomy of a young boy, his body poised in a duel with what looked like a bravo’s blade in hand. Gold shoulder-length hair and white marble skin. He was at the center of a marble pool, six cherry trees surrounding the water making it almost look like a sacred altar. 

At the base of the pool, Y/N perceived a small patch of wildflowers, a small bush that survived inspection. He noticed the small green buds that started to spring from the stems of the bush. Kneeling down in front of the small bush, Y/N started to lightly pick at the dead leaves and pluck the small insects that infested the plant. When he was satisfied, he cups his hands, drew water from the pool and poured the cool liquid on top of the plant.

“Grow.” Y/N encouraged quietly, watching the ground soak up the moisture rather quickly.

Y/N reminisce about the times he used to walk by his mother’s side when he was young. It was too cold in the north to grow any summer flowers, and the frost killed a majority of any seedlings he and his mother nurtured. But the few plants he was fortunate enough to help raise, he learned much about the earth’s herbs and flowers that he started his own study as a herbalist. His father was surprised, yet, he was proud.

—“Who are you?”

A soft voice spoke out from the distance startling Y/N from his position crouched on the ground. He wasn’t aware of a feminine figure standing behind him, watching with careful eyes as his large northern hands gentle brushed through the petals of a Tropaeolum bush. 

She has never seen this type of man before. When the stranger quickly got to his feet and turned to face the voice, bother were astonished by each other.  

A woman stood a yard in front of Y/N, a soft silk slip covering her most intimate parts with a braided rope woven into the fabric; wrapped around her neck. It was the only thing keeping the summer gown from falling and leaving her vulnerable; Y/N took notice of her bare shoulders, but it was not as eyes catching as her features were. 

Her hair was long, almost past the mounds of her breast. The color almost looked blonde, but unlike the gold locks of Lannister, it was much lighter, paler, almost white although it did not cross that line, it was like a pale comparison to silver being melted down. It was beautiful.  It looked almost unkempt with how puffed out it appeared, like how’s his mother’s hair looked after a few strokes of her brush, yet, it looked almost purposeful. Though that was nothing compared to her eyes.

His breath hitched in the back of his throat when his dark stormy eyes met the stunning pigment of her gentle violet eyes. They were majestic, and with this angle with the sun shining in her eyes, they reflected back as slightly pale purple with hints of a deeper purple near her ires. They reminded Y/N of the rarest kind of gems he’d seen on Kings and Queens crowns of old—one of a kind. Her flesh looked well taken care of, soft to the touch; pale.

Daenerys watched with cautious eyes as the man stood star struck, his mouth slightly agape and his eyes taking in each of her delicately carved details. It would have been flattering to have such eyes like his on her, however, she was used to the animalistic eyes of a lusting man that she was unfazed, yet, she did not see such motivation in his eyes, this sparked her interest.

“Did you not hear me?” the women pressed, disturbing Y/N gawking. He snapped out of it, his eyes rapidly blinking before they landed on her eyes, his lips pressed into a line and a much harder emotion overthrew the soft curiosity he previously had. “Who are you?” the woman asked once more now that she had his full attention—not that she did not already.

“Forgive me,” Y/N hesitated, “—princess.” Unsure of himself, Y/N gave the woman a reluctant bow. 

This was foreign to him, he did not like the idea of bowing to no one, he was, at a time,  a Lord, and once more he had to remind himself: For your family, for your homeland, for your namesake. 

“I am Y/N; your assigned personal guard.”

It was not hard to pick out her royal blood. The silver hair and striking violet eyes—everything screamed Targaryen.

The Targaryen princess eyed the exiled Lord suspiciously. If it was not for the countless Unsullied soldiers guarded at every post and ever doorway, she would have thought the man to be a trespasser. There have been few of those in the past and they’ve always been caught. Even with her faith in the Magister’s security—she still narrowing her eyes; doubt flooded her mind.

Y/N stood there unassertive in his spot by the fountain. He was uncomfortable and unprepared to encounter the princess. He didn’t even know her name, just that she was an exiled royal and King Robert loathed the Targaryens and that his father supported Robert’s rebellion, his father supported the unthroning of her family. He could now see why Magister Illyrio was cautious.

He cursed himself quietly. He should have just went straight to Illyrio and avoid this until further instructions. He was too damn curious for his own good.

Trying to settle the tense look in the girl’s eye, he spoke softly and gently. The last thing he needed was for her to scream and then he’d be surrounded by guards, who may or may not be unaware that he was now a guest under Illyrio, whether they did or not, he was not taking a chance.

“You are unaware? If you’d like, your Highness, we can go—”

She stopped him.

“No.” she spoke in a stern voice.

This took Y/N by surprise; even the woman who spoke the word was astonished. But before the wolf could question her, Daenerys averted her eyes away from the man and began to walk away.

Disoriented and confused, Y/N stood in his spot, completely oblivious to what just happened. He would have stood there for a while if it wasn’t for the young princess to stop and look over her shoulder, speaking in an almost authoritative voice. “You are my guard yes?” not giving Y/N an opportunity to speak, “Well don’t just stand there.”

Quickly, before he could make a fool of himself again, Y/N took several strides and was by the princesses back in a matter of a second. Turning her head away, Daenerys begins to walk forward, deeper into the garden. Y/N was so caught up in his own anxiety and analysis of the situation that he missed the smile that passed her lips.

Photo Credit(s): –

Disclaimer: I do not own the Game of Thrones pilot, characters, events, or any reference to the TV show or George R.R. Martin’s books series, all credit goes to creators. I only own my own plot twist. (2018)  

Tag(s): @tybg400

                                                                                                            May 3, 2018