#like i burnt a prayer letter and now ive been getting these for the past three–five days

[d3vilishd00dles]

is it just me or is the amount of consistent Apollo, Hermes, and Aphrodite tiktoks I'm getting in succession suspicious

[reedsmeer-blog]

♔  →  westeros  presents  MEERA  REED,  the  LADY  in  GREYWATER  WATCH.  a  raven  sent  word  that  she  bear(s)  the  resemblance  to  JESSICA  BROWN  FINDLAY.  the  TWENTY  EIGHT  year  old  CIS  FEMALE  was  ALERT  &  AFFECTIONATE  before  the  dawn  of  war,  but  have  now  become  INTRANSIGENT  &  STOIC.  when  songs  are  sung,  their  verses  speak  of  THE HAND STRETCHING THE WIRE, ALL CALLOUSES, ALL BLOOD; DARK HAIR DAMP WITH SNOW AND SWEAT, STICKING TO EVERY BIT OF SKIN; THE ELATION OF DISCOVERY IN THE FORM OF A GRIN, EXHAUSTED BUT BEYOND SATISFIED.  whispers  throughout  the  seven  kingdoms  claim  that  their  allegiance  lies  with  HOUSE  STARK,  but  fealty  means  little  when  you  play  the  game  of  thrones.  (  cams,  19,  gmt,  she/her.  )

i. meera's first years were filled with stories, some she knew to be true, others simply legend, but some were a mystery she's yet to uncover. those words filled her head with folklore and tales of the past, which she carried with her like the chains of a maester - meera was known as the storyteller, retelling those tales to younger children with all of her theatricals, whispering sad songs of long gone knights and other characters of the outside world, telling her little brother jojen all the things father had taught them, just so the boy could say if she made the stories justice. perhaps she'd write it all down in a book, like those her mother kept, bound in old wrinkly leather. or perhaps she never would, respecting the ages old tradition of the crannogmen and hiding every whisper beneath the water, where no outsider could come and then leave.

ii. her father taught her how to yield her very first weapon, a frog spear. from him, she got that, and the scale armor, all in bronze, which her father had made specifically for her. once he let that fester, meera broke off on her own, pursuing whichever skills she deemed fit for an heiress, for a hunter, for a survivor. with the help of many amongst her people, she could climb trees in near silence, become a whisper in the leaves, a swimmer so subtle she gave no sign on life in the still green waters. she knew of places outside of their small bubble, where some girls would spend the same time preparing for dances and embroidering handkerchiefs, and sometimes meera would wonder what that must have felt like, but the surrounding fields of the neck were all she had ever seen, and that life remained the object of stories and songs, nothing else.

iii. lord stark was dead, long live the wolf king. the reeds knew nothing but loyalty, serving their lord well, but that was more than getting caught in the middle of a war - she'd grown up with the tales of the wolf pack, who her father loved so dearly. the she-wolf, who meera so wanted to have met. the wild wolf, a legend forgotten. the young pup - she wondered what had become of him. and the quiet wolf, a righteous man whose letters always made father so happy. a just lord who hadn't asked for the burden of the title. not long after, the two reed siblings were on their way to a mission explained only by the gifts that the two reed men had. of course, who was meera to question them? her spear was guided by their visions, their dreams, their curses. if they pointed out the way, meera would carve it for them.

iv. this isn't my war. sometimes the terrible thought got stuck in her gut, vile sickness threatening to pour out almost immediately. jojen and brandon were blessed with mystical abilities she could only observe and follow, lost inside their own heads or souls, driving them from place to place, even when she insisted on other paths. it was robb's war. it was jojen's pursuit. it was bran's destiny. she pushed the thought away every time, devoting more and more of herself to their goals, even if it killed her - it went beyond loyalty or political alignments, they were her family. all of them, including hodor, summer, shaggydog, little rickon, even osha. the world was wide and they were only small but huddled together, the group made up a mighty force. and so she stayed, even when she wasn't heard, even when she couldn't understand, and every farewell broke her heart in bits. the softness in her that the northern cold couldn't harden made the journey a much more personal one. what would come after was a much harder question she did not dare ask.

v. the neck needed her. saying goodbye to bran, no matter how temporary, broke every shard she believed to have left, and the girl who waved goodbye to her home was not the same who returned. more aware than ever of the incoming threat, meera knew her duty was with the reeds, which she needed to help protect - greywater watch is the final stronghold on the north, and in troubling times such as these, no southern threats can pass, and no long nights can either. more than ever, she is determined to carve out a path for herself, earning a role that's active in the war that is here and the wars to come. her training has been relentless, she followed her mother and father to every call from their folk, and her stories are more tragic, filled with tales of dying northerners, burnt down villages and blue-eyed creatures.

vi. howard reed was a stepping stone. unlike his predecessors, he yearned for something he could only find outside of the neck and he fought for it, venturing into the great world that was so hostile to him, fighting amongst others, visiting great castles and seeing things he'd only heard of in songs. meera shares that adventurer's heart, but amplified. his stories were the beginning of a wish she can no longer contain, not after she's seen so many glimpses of the world from her journey with the stark princes. from great mountains to the shore and the sea, to the very top of the great wall, meera had a wisful smile stuck to her lips even in some dire situations, and it was not enough. she felt so inspired by what she saw and all the potential of what she could yet see that there is no other way but into the great outside world, to explore and visit all corners she can, to see the small shops and the big landscapes and the terrible battles and the tallest castles. everything they have to teach her is out there for the taking, and meera knows it will not only make her a better person, a better fighter and a better reed, but also more fulfilled than she ever could be, should she only be stuck in greywater watch.

vii. the loyalty of the reeds is something eternal, and meera very much caries that torch too. while she is no tactical commander or mighty fighter, her weapons are the wolf king's and she has expressed her willingness to use them for his war.

BITS AND PIECES

howland stark was picked up from the ground by the starks, armored, sheltered, cared for. he followed ned to the ends of westeros, fought for him, and in the very end committed treason for him, keeping to himself the terrible secrets of the tower of joy. he !! pulled ned away from lyanna's dead body and you can't tell me he didn't take it upon himself to deal with the brunt of the logistics to get lyanna back to winterfell just so ned didn't have to suffer through that too. house reed is not just the geographical line of defense for the north, they are the stark shield - not only did meera grow up hearing stories of this great family they pay vassalage to, she got the exact same faith. she would have gone to the end of the world and back for bran and rickon, and honestly same thing applies for any other stark because she believes so damn much in their core values and their honor !! don't talk to me about the endless loyalty the reeds have for the starks, i'm so upset.

the reeds are faithful, and for long so was she. be it to the old gods or to some ancient powers that went far beyond her comprehension, they guided her towards some higher purpose and blessed jojen for a reason. before falling asleep, she'd often whisper to herself, sometimes the names of nearly forgotten gods or promises and questions to those she did not have a name to call by. however, she got very few answers. if anything, it doesn't seem like the gods have been cruel towards her, it seems as if they've abandoned the girl, or never been there at all. the stories that have for so long guided her seem ever more hollow and her personal prayers more pointless. there's quiet anger building up within meera that only gets amplified after every tragedy and she doesn't know for how much longer she can pretend it is not there. damn the green dreams, the wolves in bran's eyes, the prayers and the smiling trees and the rituals - they keep leading her to the same place of loss and confusion, and the only significant piece of the impossible puzzle is human action, defiant or in spite of the gods, doing whatever the hell they deem to be the way.

after her return home, she got some leather-bound bits of parchment where she's been drawing and writing down stuff about the things she's seen, much like an adventures journal. whenever she leaves greywater watch, she brings a couple along, even if only to jolt down the name of small towns.

her loyalty does not equal compliance. meera respects the starks and her family, and does listen to them most of the time, but she is defiant to any reasonings she cannot agree with and stubborn to a very obvious fault. she WILL be heard, even if that means harsher words, or shouts that pierce through what's usually a gentle amused demeanor.

while she doesn't have the mythical aspect of many in her family, the woman has a profound connection to nature. growing up, she'd play in the shallower ponds and the branches of mossy trees - walking barefoot along slippery stones, ancient fossils, near the jaws of predators; meera is at her most centered when she's in direct contact with the life that she shares the world with.

even though greywater watch did not have a maester, there were many skilled people all around her who shaped her knowledge, aided by the extensive personal library her mother kept. herbology was always a particularly interesting topic, although always bested by the hidden arts and folklore. she can often be found collecting plants that catch her eye, saving them for future use should they be of help.

she would fight every being in the world for her little brother. and she trusts him and his wisdom so so deeply, even if sometimes she just wants to get rid of all the mythicisms and inject some pragmatism into situations. do not touch jojen.

her moral compass sometimes isn't the greatest. her pragmatism gets in the way of righteousness, and she has and will consider things like theft and murder should that make the most sense for the problem at hand. however, those around her, especially jojen, can always easily bring her back to her good values.

meera is NICE. i think the stereotype of the 'not a lady, had weapons, isn't in a dress' often leads to hardening the character, but meera really is not that. there's an inherent softness in her, which she often demonstrates in physical touch, by squeezing people's hands, gently caressing shoulders, placing kisses on the top of their heads. she is kind and gentle and cheerful, and often has a smile on her lips, unwilling to let herself sulk in her own pity and tragedy (at most, she'll leave that for quiet moments with herself, get it done with and return to being a light at the end of the tunnel, no matter how flickering).

check her STATS & PINTEREST !