#shireen my sweet summer child ...

[greydeath]

as is so often the case with the princess, she speaks earnestly and frankly, never one to hum and haw and wring her hands about what is to be expected of an answer from her – her father's daughter, through and through – though still careful when it comes to the choosing of her words. ❝ i was taught the harp for some years, but i was never very good at it. ❞ wind instruments were always out of the question, as her lungs were weak for a time after the greyscale, and the stiffness in her cheek would have made it doubly difficult.

❝ do you play anything, lady rahl? ❞

the isle of dragonstone was no place for a child. too grim. too cold and crawling with the ghosts of old magic. what little attempts to add joviality to the place only seemed to highlight this. but stannis' fawn stubbornly tries.

music makes bad things bearable and good things wonderful.

saccharine, almost sickly so.

it's difficult to see shireen for anything but her sweetness. her fragility. to shake that dull uncomfortable thread that plucks at her chest not quite pity. but the gnawing anticipation of something that will bruise. rot. " do you play ? " leera asks instead, the warmth of her grin betraying nothing.

@greydeath

[first-of-her-nxme]

interpretation of a song .

have fun when you read it !!!!!

song : it´s always summer under the sea

lyrics :

It's always summer, under the seaI know, I know, oh, oh, oh

The birds have scales, and the fish take wingI know, I know, oh, oh, oh

The rain is dry, and the snow falls upI know, I know, oh, oh, oh

The stones crack open, the water burns

The shadows come to dance, my love

The shadows come to play

The shadows come to dance, my love

The shadows come to stay

so , this is the most beautiful song , I read it in the book , there´s a sad sweetness in it ............

back to the point , this song was told by patchface shireen´s friend.

and we know that : patchface is foil of jaqen and shireen is foil of arya , and somehow patchface is telling a future events .

when you read the song , you understand that it is talking about the return of the dragons , also about the sea .

let me explain : we said before that arya and jaqen will sail and they journey will be across the sea so patchface is telling us some of what will happen :

It's always summer, under the sea : summer means happiness , peace , warm and love .

The birds have scales, and the fish take wing : the birds here means dragons , fish : a boat .

The rain is dry, and the snow falls up : I think it´s desription of sadness,bitterness, death maybe .

The stones crack open, the water burns : dragonnnssss hatching

The shadows come to dance, my love: dance of dragons : war between two targaryens : danny and jaegon.

The shadows come to play: when we speak we say let´s play a song : here the dragons will play the song of ice and fire .

The shadows come to stay : hereeeeee there´s dragon will stay alive , there´s targaryen will stay .

you remenber when arya left westeros with a targaryen dagger ???

accoding to hotd the prophecy is written on that dagger so it mean that the dagger must belong to the prince who was promised when the right time comes .

hear me out : I interepted the song with arya and aegon but also it can be with aegon and danny and their future affair ....

I believe that grrm songs is always related to arya : jenny of oldestone ; the dornishman wife goddd that song is full of hints , my featherbed ..........

about songs : do you know :

arya means song , this is is not a coincidence hhhhhhh

millie brady you will be my favourite older arya :

I wish there´´s another version of got hhhhhhhhh.

to another post

Hello darling!

Are you sure this is the book version of the song? Because it reminds me the song written by GRRM for the show. Or am I wrong?

Anyway, thank you for another raven :) I interpret Patchface's riddles a bit differently. I will try to explain it as best as I can.

"It's always summer, under the sea : summer means happiness , peace , warm and love ."

I agree that summer means good things. Though I also think that summer here means the end of the magical winter. It is always summer so it means the winter is gone for good, there is no danger that this particular magic will ever bother people again.

"The birds have scales, and the fish take wing : the birds here means dragons , fish : a boat ."

Yes, birds mean dragons but also Targaryens. I mentioned it in another answer: GRRM compares Jaqen to a raven from the Citadel meaning that he is unique, clever and strong. And Patchface here refers to that special bird: he has scales which means he is a dragon, a Targaryen.

The fish on the other hand is a reference to Arya. Arya is said to be swimming like a fish. Shireen who is her foil is jokingly compared to a fish when she is teaching Davos. So, fish is a child, a young girl, Arya. I suppose Arya will fly on a dragon with Jaqen. It can also mean she will warg a bird like Bran.

Now , this one is very important:

"The rain is dry, and the snow falls up : I think it´s desription of sadness,bitterness, death maybe ."

In the books it goes like this: "Under the sea, it snows up,” said the fool, “and the rain is dry as bone.

It snows up is the opposite of snowing down, so it's the opposite of winter. Here, the snow uncovers the earth, so the winter is retreating. And why is this happening? The answer is in the second part: the rain is dry as a bone. The rain here means the Rain God who is mentioned in the prologue to A Clash of Kings. The Rain God is GRRM's version of the Storm King from Memory, Sorrow and Thorn. In the show he appeared as the ice zombie, the Night King. It was D&D's creation and they made him by merging a couple of characters and legends from the books and by giving him the stereotypical fantasy villain/monster appearance. Of course, in the books he is something else entirely. He owes a lot to the aforementioned Storm King aka elvish Prince Ineluki. He is not a cartoonish monster, he is a complex character who brings the winter to avenge his people. In ASOIAF some of his traits were given to Rhaegar and some other to Jaqen. So, the Rain God here is Jaqen. He is dry as bone because he is dead. When you are dead only bones remain of you after a while. So this is the saddest part: when Jaqen dies, winter disappears for good. I think it will be a sort of self-sacrifice because GRRM hints at it in other parts of the books.

It's so silly that D&D commissioned GRRM to write this song for the show but then wrote off certain plots that are mentioned in the song. I guess it's typical for HBO writers.

The stones crack open, the water burns : dragonnnssss hatching

Here I agree with you, it's about dragons. The second part can also be about wildfire which burns even in the water.

Now, this part:

"The shadows come to dance, my love: dance of dragons : war between two targaryens : danny and jaegon.

The shadows come to play: when we speak we say let´s play a song : here the dragons will play the song of ice and fire .

The shadows come to stay : hereeeeee there´s dragon will stay alive , there´s targaryen will stay ."

I agree that this is a reference to the dance of dragons and the battle of ice and fire. It also refers to blood magic of Asshai. Perhaps you remember the ritual performed by the maegi in the first book. She called the shadows and among them was the shadow of a direwolf. It might have been Ghost. So she did something that impacted the whole journey of Daenerys and perhaps directed her on the path leading to the dance of dragons. Now, Patchface sees that Melisandre is using the same magic and he tries to warn maester Cressen but nobody understands him.

You are right. Patchface songs are about Jaqen and Arya. Daenerys's fate and her romance with Jaqen is foreshadowed in her dreams.

I'm not sure if Game of Thrones and House of the Dragon are the best sources to learn about future books. I agree that they make many references to the books but they also change many things, they merge characters, they change the prophecies and so on and so forth. Some things they do may be very helpful but others are their creation only and even contradict the books.

Thank you for another interesting message. I like your Arya fancast though I admit I have Maisie's Arya stuck in my head :)) Maybe not season 7 and 8 Arya but I blame D&D's writing.

Cheers!

[goulds]

[7deadlycinderellas]

If the summer of lives could just come again, ch16

A03 link

Over the Wall

Several moons into that year, Rowan stills in the middle of a sentence, and quietly says,

“I think we have a visitor.”

The visitor, causing Jon’s heart to leap into his throat with joy, turns out to be Ghost. Ghost, dragging a dead doe at that. Ygritte attacks the dead animal with a knife and gusto, and they all eat terribly well for several days, Jon scratching Ghost under the muzzle and feeding him the best bits.

And Ghost is excellent for making the caves warmer at night. Sometimes, he even lets them use him as a pillow.

He even allows Ygritte to do it. She pets his head idly.

One night, when Jon is resting his head on the opposite side of him she is, Ygritte quietly asks him.

“I suppose it would never have worked out. We’re just too different.”

Jon doesn’t respond, but it doesn’t really feel like a question.

“I wanted to see over the wall. I’d wanted that since I was a little girl. We saw it together. But it wasn’t enough. You still left me for them.”

“I did swear a vow.”

Ygritte exhales loudly.

“How long were you a crow?”

Jon thinks back, remembering when he took his vow, and the start of the great ranging.

“A little over a year.”

“Do you think any of them are still looking for you?”

Jon feels his insides twist. Sam, Sam would never quit, but he could be overcome. Commander Mormont, he would never willingly leave a man behind. Pyp and Grenn…

“Maybe a few...but I suppose most of them must think I’m dead.”

Ygritte’s silent for a long time, and eventually it’s Jon who breaks it again.

“Once whatever this is is done, I can take you over the wall again. I can show you the south.”

Ygritte sounds half asleep when she responds with,

“That better be a promise.”

Gilly and the other women spend the days up and about, marking on bits of parchment.

“None of us learned to read,” Gilly tells him, “But Rowan wants us to help her map the caves down here, and I can draw well enough.”

Mapping the caves is just one of the things Rowan does. Her and the others occasionally disappear for half a day, gathering something or another.

In the early days, she led him to the heart of the cave, where the corpse of the old weirwood lay, and where Rowan had planted the bulb of a new seedling.

“This was what I was traveling further south for, to find this little babe of a tree,” she tells them, gently petting the turned earth where it will reach upward for the sun.

Jon reaches into his jumbled memories of his last night with the others.

“My brother...he said the three-eyed Raven taught him to see through the weirwoods.”

Rowan nods.

“We fed him from the seeds of the weirwoods, and that allowed him to see through their wood. It was a poor choice.”

Jon tries to imagine Bran, who seems so small, so young, in his memory.

“You said because he was a child.”

Rowan shakes her head softly.

“Not just that. He was a human, and humans cannot carry the weight of the power these centuries old trunks bear. Even the humans gifted with what you call greensight are often afflicted with illness by it.”

Jon watches Rowan stand, and touch the dead roots.

“My name is not truly Rowan. The common tongue has no word so specific for the sound a rowan tree makes when caught in a summer storm. But our language does. We call it the True Tongue. This is the tongue shared by the children of the forest, the plants and animals and the soil of the earth.”

She looks at Jon, gently, like a grandmother might.

“The only human who is said to have ever understood the True Tongue was your ancestor Bran the Builder. He knew how to listen. This is what makes you special Jon Snow, you can speak, and you cal listen. I’m not going to teach you to see through the weirwoods, I’m going to teach you to talk to them.”

 King’s Landing

It’s just a normal, clear, sunny-but-cold day when Sansa touches Lady on the neck and slips into her skin.

She creeps through the Red Keep, quiet as a septa, neat as a maid, not even drawing the attention of a mouse.

Not even when she winds up outside the Small Council chambers. She doesn’t linger, doesn’t want to jinx this whole thing. Stannis and Renly have both lingered, seemingly lacking will to leave their brother’s side, even as their feuds rear their heads every other day.

It really does incense Sansa sometimes. Was this was raising her and Arya had been like, she wondered. Did Father and Mother fear that they would still be quarreling well into womanhood?

“It makes me sad,” Shireen had told her one day, out in the garden, The flowers had been dusted with snow, their petals beginning to wilt.

“Do you like living with your uncle?” Sansa had asked.

Shireen nods,

“He doesn’t pay a ton of attention to me, but he’s always light-hearted and up for a laugh. Father always went on and on about how irresponsible he was, but he’s always made sure I ate and went to my lessons…”

The younger girl trails off. Sansa had seen her speak kindly with Renly, and seemed happy spending time under Brienne’s guard, but she also saw the whisper of homesickness in her.

She recognizes it with ease, having gone through plenty.

It is Shireen she thinks of while Lady watches Renly attempt to defend his current lack of heirs.

It isn’t fair, not really, Sansa thinks to herself. She remembers the first day at court, when she’d caught a glimpse of Renly holding Loras Tyrell’s elbow that the truth had struck her like a lightning bolt.

Even Shireen had seen it, it seemed.

“I don’t think he likes ladies, well not like other men do,” Shireen had told her in confidence, “He was always quite kind to Lady Brienne, and many men can’t even muster that.”

But still, it was his house duty, she thought. And Stannis, on the other hand, could always be counted on to do his duty. Which must be why he’s here tending to his brother, even as he’s shouted and raged at on the regular.

She’s seen no sign of the red woman, to her relief.

She pulls herself out of Lady, when she hears someone call her name.

The voice turns out to be that of Lady Margaery, flanked behind by many of her own ladies. She is in the garden again, and Margaery is extending her hand to her.

“My apologies, my lady,” Sansa tells her, moving to lift her skirts and stand, “I’m afraid I was somewhere else for a bit there.”

“No offense taken, Lady Sansa,” Margaery replies, her smile seeming natural, though somehow still somehow painted on. “I was merely hoping to invite you to have tea with my grandmother and I.”

Sansa smiles, and allows herself to be lead.

She would be lying if she said she hadn’t been looking forward to see the old Queen of Thorns again. As the years had gone by, her appreciation of the acid tongue matriarch had only increased, along with her confusion as to her motives.

“Lady Tyrell,” she says, “It’s an honor.”

“Oh, dispense with the arse-kissing if you would, I feel I’ve had more than my share being back in this city.”

Yes, that was the Olenna Tyrell that Sansa remembered. She offers her wine and cheese, and she takes lightly of both.

“So,” Sansa starts, finishing a bit of soft goat cheese, licking her thumb, “is this just for pleasure, or did the two of you want something from me?”

The older woman nodded to herself, though it was her granddaughter who spoke up first.

“Well, you have lived here in the Red Keep for far longer than we have been at court. I imagine you’ve noticed my courtship of Prince Joffrey-”

As if anyone could miss it. Margaery was not subtle when she wanted people to notice her. As she called it ‘her courtship’, which she couldn’t imagine most proper ladies doing.

“-and I was hoping you might tell me about him. He has seemed gracious and gallant to me, but I imagine you know as I do, that men have the same carefully constructed masks we women do.”

“And we would like some insight,” Olenna interrupts, “Into why you, a lovely young maid yourself, seem to have no interest in him yourself.”

Sansa snorts softly, then meters her voice very carefully.

“Because he’s a jackarse that’s why. Met him years ago back home in Winterfell, first thing he did was insult my little sister.”

Her voice is casual, light.

“He likes to slap around his younger brother and sister too. I’ve seen him leave nasty bruises on both. “

Only a small fib. Myrcella had once confessed to Sansa that Joffrey hadn’t hit her since she had learned to stop reacting.

“Both of his uncles give him hell about it. I saw Lord Tyrion slap him once for a comment he made about my crippled younger brother. I’m rather fond of all of them, so I take their words over his. You have siblings, my lady, you must understand.”

At some point, Lady has quietly padded her way into the gardens, and sits by Sansa’s side. She pets the wolf on her head.

“And I am very thankful that Lady here hasn’t even caught his eye, if what poor Tommen said happened to his cat wasn’t just a tantrum.”

If he had ever tried it, Sansa thought, she’s not sure she would have stopped Lady from tearing his throat out this time.

Olenna snorts in response to her words though.

“If you’re assessment of the prince is accurate, than I wonder why wouldn’t tried to dissuade us.”

Sansa shrugs carefully, before meeting Margaery’s eye.

“If you think you can handle it, then who am I to tell you what to do? But you should be aware of what you’re getting into. Not just the prince, the Queen is a whole hornet’s nest herself.”

Sansa feels vaguely trapped inside. This whole game, the politics and the alliances. She had grown good at it, she knows, but she’s become so disdainful of it.

After she finishes her cup of sweet wine, she spies Tyrion walking into the garden and sitting at one of the tables they often played cyvasse on.

“If you’ll excuse my early exit, “ she tells Lady Olenna, standing and brushing off her dress, “Lord Tyrion beat me at cyvasse three days ago, and I believe I am owed a rematch.”

When she approaches the table, she notes Tyrion watching her out of the corner of his eye.

“Tired already of more quality company than me?”

Sansa shakes her head.

“Tired of being used as an unwitting informant.”

Tyrion raises an eyebrow. He has the cyvasse pieces out, and is playing with them idly, though not setting them up properly.  

“Seeking advice for the courtship of my dear nephew?”

Sansa smiles wryly. She glances back over at where Margaery sits, with her immaculate hair and gown. Tyrion interrupts her gaze.

“Seemed there was a time you would have wanted the exact place she is in now.”

Sansa laughs bitterly.

“I did. And that wish got me nothing but heartache, abuse and suffering. I was stupid. A stupid little girl with stupid dreams who learned too slowly to even protect herself from her own mistakes.“

Thinking of her younger self, how blind and easily led she had been, nearly makes her want to retch. She shakes the memory off, as she moves to set the cyvasse pieces up. They play nearly in silence until the sun is no longer high in the sky.

“Is it so awful though?” Sansa asks, breaking the silence, in an unusually small voice, “To want to be loved, to want it so much that you let yourself be blinded?”

“No,” Tyrion replies, fiercely, “I don’t think it’s awful at all. Everyone wants to be loved, even if no one admits it. And in my experience, it’s made a great many men and women commit very foolish acts.”

She won’t say to him, won’t admit even to herself, that she’s even sure she would know love anymore. That if it weren’t for her sister, she wouldn’t even be sure if she believed in it anymore.

There’s a flush over their conversation, and Sansa feels a strange warmth bloom in her chest. One she might recognize, if she reached far enough back in her memory.

It’s interrupted, when her father approaches, telling her it’s time for supper.

It’s a simple potato and leek soup tonight, rich with cream and brightened bacon. Over it, Sansa hopes her father won’t bring up the subject she’s been avoiding since they arrived here nearly three years ago.

“You seem quite fond of Lord Tyrion,” he begins, “Any particular reason why?”

Sansa nods softly. She no longer thinks there’s a point in hiding this.

“He was my first husband.”

Ned stares, seeming not to know which word to latch onto. Sansa chuckles. It’s really ridiculous in hindsight.

“It was Tywin Lannister’s handiwork, meant to keep control of the North. We both objected loudly, but didn’t have a leg to stand on to refuse, but we tried to be kind to each other at least.”

She swallows, bitterly.

“I was fourteen, and in retrospect, our complete farce of a marriage was the closest thing to a reprieve I had while I was stuck here, and then…” she trails off, still unsure how to explain the next part, “I didn’t see him for nearly four years, but when we saw each other again, it was the strangest thing...it was almost like we were friends.”

Ned finally cuts her off, with a question.

“You said he was your first-”

Sansa ducks her head, so he will not see her face.

“My second was Ramsey Bolton. He was...not kind.

Ned’s expression of horror is all she needs. She shakes her head roughly again, changing the subject as fast as she can before more questions come.

“Anything new with the council today?”

“Stannis got a raven from the Wall,”

That gets Sansa’s complete attention.

“Who’s in charge now?”

“Alliser Thorne,”

She groans internally. Jon’s words on the man had not been kind. Not that Jon was even there now.

“He’s asking for more men, because wildlings have been attacking the outposts regularly. They sent them to all the Lords.”

Sansa rubs her forehead.

“And of course, Stannis is the only one to take the request seriously.”

Sansa wishes Shireen’s death wasn’t such a black mark on Stannis’s life. That his willingness to follow Melisandre so fanatically hadn’t besmirched him so. He was one of the only men in Westeros who truly seemed to consider the needs of the Realm.

Even before that, she muses, he also killed his own brother, so maybe she was being too generous.

Stannis’s actions end up being overshadowed anyhow.

It’s the middle of the year when Balon Greyjoy dies.

Sansa groans deeply when she learns. This is going to be a mess. She doubts Yara will be able to gather any sort of support without Theon to back her up, so somehow she thinks Euron will end up in charge again. She sends a raven, one of Bran’s that she’s been letting rest on a perch in her chambers and rest, back to Winterfell to try and see if Theon had said anything on the matter at all.

Theon had kept Balon in line, but she doubts Euron has any sort of similar loyalty.

It distracts her though, and she blames that distraction for why she lets someone sneak up on her early the next morning, when she’s down at the training yard.

Thankfully, it’s just Brienne.

“Didn’t take you for an archer, my lady.”

Sansa shrugs her off,

“It’s just for fun. Daughter of one of my father’s friends was a great archer. I thought she looked so elegant doing it. So I asked her to teach me.”

Elegant is pushing it. Sansa might describe Meera in her element as having a sort of wild grace, but she’s not sure she would ever call it elegance. But she is a young woman, with thoughts only of gowns and games, and so she admires elegance.

“For fun? Pulling a longbow takes nearly a hundred pounds of force.”

Sansa laughs, trying to sound blithe. She looses her arrow, and hits the target she has set up. It hits close to the edge, but it’s set further away than she’s set them before.

“You’re assigned to guard Lady Shireen, right? Is she about already?”

Brienne shakes her head.

“The girl is a bit of a late sleeper, and I felt the need for some early morning air before resuming my duties.”

Sansa sets down her bow and sits on one of the brick columns that line the ends of the walkway.

“How is she? I remember when I came here for the first time, I felt so alone.”

“She is..coping. Like she always has. She didn’t have many other young people for friends in Storm’s End, or from her stories, before either.”

Brienne frowns as she continues speaking.

“I fear she may always feel out of place just because of how she looks. I feel coming here, with all the power and attention may only make it worse.”

“This city isn’t a very good place for anyone,” Sansa ruminates, playing with the feather on the end of her bow.

What about you? She thinks, but doesn’t say. Here, Brienne looks the role of a knight, even if she will still insist she is not. She spends her days guarding a defenseless girl for no personal gain, and she will still deny it.

And she has no idea who she would have become.

Joffrey and Margaery announce their engagement halfway through the year. Ned spends the back half of the year with his head between his hands trying to get a grasp on the plans.

“Robert’s not going to make it to the end of the year,” he admits one day during supper.

Sansa purses her lips as she sips her soup.

“I didn’t think so. He looks awful.” Robert’s whole body has become swollen, and despite his famous appetite, he rarely eats anymore.

“I can’t help but feel that planning a lavish wedding while his father dies is in poor taste.”

“He will be king,” Sansa considers, “maybe he wants his reign to start with a celebration. Or maybe Robert wants to see his eldest wed before he passes.”

Ned shakes his head.

“I still can’t wrap my head around Joffrey being king. He doesn’t pay a lick of attention in small council meetings, and on the occasion he does, he lashes out and suggests violence for nearly every issue.”

“He will be an awful king,” Sansa agrees, “But I don’t expect he will be king long.

He probably won’t be murdered at his wedding this time, she thinks, or at least if he is, Sansa doesn’t think she will be the tool of poison. She hasn’t received any unexpected gifts anyway. The Iron Islands are in flux, something tells her Stannis still has his doubts about Joffrey’s parentage, and Littlefinger is still manipulating things (his own wedding to Lysa has just been announced).

And, barring all of that, Varys spoke quietly to her once about the songs of his birds from overseas. The thought of Joffrey being eaten by a dragon does give her a certain sense of satisfaction.

‘You don’t imagine Joffrey will want to keep you as his Hand though do you?” she asks out of the blue.

Ned’s words are rough,

“I can’t imagine. The boy dislikes me, his mother dislikes me more, and they’ve both been vocal about it.”

“Perhaps, once his graces passes, then we’ll be able to go home.”

It’s the only hope they have to hold on to, as the wedding draws near.

Sansa’s not in a good mood the day before. Aside from her general distaste for weddings, she has also just got the raven telling her that she was going to miss Arya’s...again.

Ned is at least as upset about that as she is.

“At least there are still four more of you.”

Sansa is quiet for a long time, then suddenly interjects,

“Robb was married. No one was there but Mother. I don’t even remember his wife’s name. She was from Volantis, I think. None of us got to meet her. The three of them all died the same day.”

Ned reaches out and touches the back of her neck. The gown she’s dressed in for the wedding is a light gray, with long sleeves and a full skirt. She’s tall enough at seventeen that she can now look him straight in the eye.

She stands beside him during the ceremony, and he watches her eyes drift over most of the room.

Joffrey and Margaery say their words, and Ned and Sansa try their best not to roll their eyes.

There are performers after, but scanning the crowd, Sansa lets out a sigh of relief, seeing only one dwarf. The pigeon pie doesn’t choke anyone.

Sansa quietly sips at her wine, and watches.

At one point in the evening, she sees Ned take a sip from Robert’s goblet, and wince. Pycelle is accompanying the King, who is barely holding himself upright. He has not eaten or drank anything at all during the festivities.

“I’ve never tasted anything that strong, I’m almost frightened where he found it,” Ned comments, off hand. Sansa wonders at his words.

Time comes for the bedding. Sansa notices Shireen looking a bit apprehensive, and so grabs her hands and the two of them linger at the back of the mob of women.

“Trust me, you don’t want a hand or eyeful of any of that,” she assures the girl.

The dancers and celebrators still linger in the hall. Sansa notices Cersei still at the high table, seemingly quite drunk. That’s a mess she wants no part of either.  

Her and Shireen sit alone, sipping lightly from one cup of wine.

"Do you like it here at all?" Sansa finally asks her.

Shireen shrugs.

"I like meeting other people. I like seeing things happen even if I can't be involved. Renly told me when he was helping me get my gown and everything for the ball last year that it was a shame a girl like me had been kept from the world for so long."

"Aren't people sometimes mean to you though?"

"Of course they are, but they don't matter. Maybe in this life I'll be alone, but that's why I like my books and stories. That's I think what I'd like to do with my life. I want to write stories, whether they're real or not."

Sansa sees in her eyes a touch of resentment, she figures for her parents having kept her trapped for so long.

And slowly, and very quietly, she asks her.

"If I told you a story, a very complicated one, could you keep it to yourself, whether you believed it or not?"

Shireen looks at her oddly.

"I wouldn't tell a soul."

And just like that, Sansa has another confidant.

It feels like things should change all at once, but it still somehow happens slowly.

It’s a few days after the wedding, while guests are beginning to leave. Sansa is wandering the halls, again in Lady, when she comes upon Cersei leaving the royal apartments, with an empty bottle.

Sansa-in-Lady takes a moment to heel behind a statue in the hall, when Littlefinger comes in her direction.

He barely even stops upon encountering Cersei, he merely nods in her direction.

“Such a shame it is,” he says, eyes on the bottle, “For a man to be leveled by something he loved so much.”

And Sansa finds herself slipping out of Lady’s head, a heavy sensation causing her stomach to sink.

Of course it wouldn’t be hard, the way Robert drank, to spike his cups even more heavily. Even if someone were drinking first from his cups, they wouldn’t likely notice.

A death he may have brought on himself, hastened by someone who desperately wanted him gone.

A death that comes barely a moon after his eldest son’s wedding.

“I have to make funeral arrangements,” Ned tells her that evening, when the are sitting and talking, “And arrange for Joffrey’s coronation.”

“And after that?”

Ned sighs. It seems to be his primary vocalization now.

“After...we’ll find out.”

Sansa stares out the window in her chambers that night. It’s a deep, dark, clear night, and the raven for winter flies through.

[summerseachild]

Summersea’s GoT Season 4 Rewatch 2019

Otherwise known as: “The Long Slow Slide to D and D Running Out of Material from the Books”

4x01: 

1. The visuals of Ice getting melted down are SO PRETTY (while RoC plays on the background 😎 living my best Lannister Life over here.)

2. Jaime getting the sword and trying NOT to be Lord of Casterly Rock and HOLY SHIT TELLING TYWIN NO and getting away with it.

3. Tyrion is trying so hard to greet the Dornish politely... poor guy.

4. It’s pride month so I’m just pointing out that Oberyn is soooo biiiii and This Bi Girl loves him. And him playing with the flame and Ellaria trying to stop him from killing the Lannister who insulted him... I just love their dynamic.

5. Drogon is just a big happy dragon-Cat and in Dany’s first appearance of this season. He PURRS.

6. I love Jaime and Cersei’s scene with Jaime’s new hand. They snipe at each other, but it is SO how they interact.

7. Jon and Sansa reacting to Robb’s death :(

8. GUESS WHO DID NOT MISS JANOS SLYNT OR ALLISER THORNE AT ALL THATS RIGHT MEEEE. Also Alliser is Peter Knox in a Discovery of Witches so I just HATE HIS FACE.

9. TREAT THAT BOOK MORE CAREFULLY JOFFREY YOU LITTLE SHIT and treat your uncle more nicely too. Jaime looks a little taken aback at what a little turd his oldest has become, but handles it well I think.

10. Jaime and Brienne trying to sort out how to keep his vow to Catelyn 🤣

11. YES ARYA GET NEEDLE BACK. Also Sandor being like NO CHILD COME BACK HERE DO NOT RUSH INTO DANGER WITHOUT ME is precious.

12. Sandor Clegane saying FUCK THE KING gives me such satisfaction

13. I should not be so happy about Arya re-enacting the time when Polliver

14. But I am happy that Sandor got his chickens

4x02

1. So I had forgotten that the girls who were in the scene where Theon gets cut are Myranda and the girl Ramsay is hunting later. I remembered how much I hate the Myranda thing real quick, though.

2. I love Tyrion being understanding of Jaime’s disability because HE WOULD BE. Also Tyrion pouring wine on the table to be like “look spilling is no big deal” is PRECIOUS.

3. Bronn knocking Jaime around while sparring is a great source of joy to me.

4. Theon finds out that Robb is dead when he’s got a RAZOR TO RAMSAY’S THROAT I can’t with Alfie’s face.

5. Every time I see Joffrey chop that book in half I want the purple wedding to be right now.

6. Tyrion trying to make Shae leave :...(

7. KEEP AWAY FROM SHIREEN, RED WOMAN, said Davos probably a lot

8. Question: why don’t the direwolves being food BACK to the hungry humans? Especially when Bran can warg into them?

9. So I want to go through every frame of that vision Bran has with the weirwood because the one we haven’t seen before is a Dragons over King’s Landing. Those ARE THE ROOFS YOU SEE IN THE NEXT SHOT FOR THE WEDDING.

10. Haha oh right this IS the purple wedding ep ooops I’d almost forgot. Not sorry for wishing death on Joffrey but sorry for Cersei’s sake and everyone else it fucks over.

11. Loras having eye sex with Oberyn cracks me up I mean they both have eyes and good gaydar... (bi-dar? queer-dar?)

12. Is Margaery... flirting with Brienne? Or is that just Margaery’s personality?

13. JAIME’S FACE when he sees Brienne and Cersei talking is SO FUNNY he’s like shit shit shit DANGER

14. What did Qyburn DO for Cersei that she is recommending to other women? She told him symptoms were gone in a previous ep in a weird mysterious way... did he help her end a pregnancy?? How long has it BEEN since Blackwater? This never comes back again but I’m super curious. 

15. Oberyn has zero chill around Tywin and I love it.

16. Margaery looking like she is is going to murder someone during the war of the five Kings show is A Mood. (I mean... there IS about to be a murder.)

17. I don’t think the Tyrells planned it but Joffrey being a shit and making Tyrion touch his wine goblet and SANSA TOUCHING IT TOO played right into their hands.

4x03: oh brother here comes altar sex

1. I want very much for Hector Barbossa to be waiting at the top of that ladder for Sansa after approaching the ship and the creepy fog. But no it’s Petyr Baelish. Ew.

2. Hello new Tommen! Good to see you again after Karstark killed your identical cousin! Also Tywin being like GOOD KINGS ARE SMART AND LISTEN TO THEIR SMART ADVISORS. (That moment when a sitting US president needs to listen to Tywin. Scary?)

3. Altar sex has not aged well for me. I’m not a J/C shipper who thinks they’ve got a healthy relationship that’s all sunshine and kitties. I know the two of them have a messed up dynamic, but this scene misses the mark in so many ways and I hate it. I wish they would have left it out rather than done it wrong. (Also I think it was a tryout for me for “can you get a valonqar scene right?” And the answer was a resounding NO.)

4. Speaking of healthy relationships though Sam and Gilly are cute and sweet and awkward and everything that is good and pure in this world.

5. And so is Davos telling Shireen about his smuggling adventures.

6. Oberyn sat his beautiful self right in the middle of the Kinsey scale and said THE VIEW IS GREAT HERE. What an icon. Also offering Tywin fricking Lannister a seat on the bed where you were just having sex with like FOUR DIFFERENT PEOPLE was A Move.

7. Tywin TELLS OBERYN ABOUT DANY and Oberyn looks like this is the first he’s heard of it.

8. Tyrion saying goodbye to Pod gave me a decent sized lump in my throat.

9. Daario taking down the Champion Of Meereen with one thrown dagger and one slash of a sword is sexy as fuck and I don’t care who knows I think so.

4x04

1. Missandei teaching Grey Worm and just hanging out with him is so important to me this time around.

2. Jaime and Bronn are weird friends and I kind of love it.

3. The Kingslayer Brothers: coming soon to a stage near you. I’d buy that band’s shirt.

4. Olenna Tyrell is a STONE COLD LADY and I love that about her. She protected her granddaughter and I respect that.

5. That is A LOT OF WINE IN THAT GLASS Cersei my love. Also Jaime TRYING to convince her Tyrion didn’t do it hurts me. He loves them both so much, but they all hurt each other.

6. Ser Pounce is a big fluff like my Freya!

7. OATHKEEPER AND THE WHITE BOOK AND THE ARMOR. Brienne’s face is so pure when he gives it to her.

8. I had near forgotten all of this stuff at the wall with Olly and Jon and the cannibals and the mutineers at Craster’s and waiting for Mance’s army. (We know where my heart is though, don’t we...)

9. SIT DOWN LOCKE. I forgot that human shitstain showed up at the wall looking for Bran.

10. We didn’t need the mutineer plot. What did it add? What did we learn about the world or its people? Nothing we didn’t already know. What. Was. The. Point. We’d already seen the walkers and knew about the babies, we knew the world was violent and classist. WE KNEW.

11. I love when Summer is like HELLO BROTHER GHOST OH NO A TRAP

12. The white walker riding across the frozen lake... what a gorgeous image, and the ice henge...

13. WHAT DO THE BLUE EYED ICE BABIES GROW UP TO BEEEEE DO WE EVEN KNOW

4x05

1. I’d say long live King Tommen, but I’d cry.

2. Cersei is beauty she is grace she wants to punch Margaery in the face. (But actually is acting like she might need Margaery to help Tommen? That scene was hard to read.)

3. Meereen has a lot of cool geometrical carvings.

4. Dany thinking about what kind of ruler she wants to be and what responsibilities she has to the people she freed? THAT IS WHO SHE IS, D AND D YOU DICKS.

5. Sansa’s like “greeeeeaaaaat another creepy little kid” when she meets Robin.

6. And Lysa lets it ALL OUT about what Petyr has had her do... wow.

7. Cersei is going along with the Tyrell marriages way too easily what is her game.

8. Tywin is... almost treating his daughter like someone he can trust and have a conversation with? What is this?

9. And then there’s the stupidity about the mines running out. Wtf.

10. Arya is a little drama queen with saying the Hound’s name last while HE WAS LISTENING.

11. Lysa is SO DAMAGED. Poor Sansa.

12. Aw Brienne you don’t know what a loyal kid you’ve got in Podrick give him a chance.

13. Arya practicing water dancing is so cool.

14. Cersei and Oberyn talking is actually really interesting. And they talk about Myrcella :....( and Oberyn is TELLING THE TRUTH about her being happy.

15. Cersei got her A BOAT for her birthday because she LIKES THE OPEN WATER I had forgotten that and I am freaking out for fic reasons because of fics I haven’t written yet that involve Myrcella being good at boats.

16. Geez Pod I don’t know how to skin a rabbit but I know you need to before you cook it. And... does Brienne actually need help with that armor, or does she realize Pod needs to feel useful? I’m going with the second.

17. I had forgotten how creepy Jojen’s visions were.

18. Bran warging into Hodor and killing Locke is... problematic, but Bran had every reason to think Locke was going to kill him. Good fucking riddance.

19. Jon being happy to see Ghost XD

20. So... there’s just a troop of Crasters daughters out there still? Idek.

4x06 the laws of gods and men (and by men we mean Tywin)

1. Braavos is so pretty! I love her. I love her canals, I love the Titan, I love the domes, I just love her.

2. I remember when people lost their shit over Mark Gattis being in this episode. He is quite good here, and Davos is quite clever.

3. Salador’s joke about the red shirt is FUNNY and I’m not afraid to say so.

4. No one wants to see Ramsay having sex.

5. EVERYONE wants to see Yara giving a great speech.

6. She... ran from some dogs when she was burying her axe in dudes’ GUTS five seconds earlier? LAAAAAAME. Yes yes she also saw how fucked up in the head Theon was (more awards Alfie deserved and didn’t get), and she did want to lose any more people when he wasn’t willing to come but the way this was cut it reads like she was all OH NO DOGS which is the stupidest thing ever. 

7. NOOOO POOR GOATS. I get that dragons have to eat though...

8. I cannot believe Dany didn’t take the time to FIND OUT WHICH MEEREENESE WERE LESS TERRIBLE. They would have been fucking allies. BUT NO LET’S JUST CRUCIFY PEOPLE WITH NO IDEA OF THE NUANCES OF THE LOCAL SITUATION. What stupidity.

9. At least she’s trying to learn??? She’s so small on that throne in a huge room. What a great shot.

10. Oberyn is a bisexual who CANNOT SIT IN A CHAIR NORMALLY. I am not complaining.

11. I cannot see the scene of Jaime and Tyrion walking down into the courtroom for the trial without giggling at the memory of the outtake where they dance like dorks into the room and down the aisle.

12. Jaime looking at Tyrion like YOU ARE NOT HELPING YOURSELF is a mood.

13. How did they get the poison necklace? Didn’t Littlefinger throw it in the Blackwater FAR off shore? A bit AFTER he killed Dontos? How does Pycelle have it here? Maybe they washed up together? Maybe D and D forgot Petyr tossed it in the bay? WHO KNOWS???

14. Jaime trying to convince Tywin one last time and offering to leave the kingsguard in exchange for Tyrion HOLY SHIT I FORGOT HE DID THAT. Cersei never would have spoken to him again if he’d left her and married and gone back to the Rock and given Tywin what he wanted. Jaime KNEW he was screwing over a relationship that means SO MUCH TO HIM but it’s TYRION’S LIFE we’re talking about here. That’s how much he loves his little brother. 

15. Tywin is like DONE so fast Jaime barely gets the offer out lol

16. And it all would have worked if Shae hadn’t walked through those doors.

17. Do we know WHY Shae agreed to testify to this? What did Tywin offer her or threaten her with?

18. WHAT ARE YOU DOING LITTLE BRO WHY ARE YOU SAYING THIS?! is Jaime’s face all the time this scene.

19. Tyrion’s “confession”is such a piece of acting wow Peter enjoy your Emmys.

4x07

1. Jeez Tyrion didn’t know Jaime COULDN’T save him. He had no idea that losing his hand had affected his abilities that badly. That... hurts.

2. Arya, Sandor, and the dying farmer is such a great scene... And Arya only killing that asshole only after Sandor learns his name for her so she knows the name of the man she’s killing.... A++ would watch again.

3. Everyone LISTEN TO JON he has seen things none of you have.

4. Tyrion finding out Bronn has been bought is so very upsetting but I love this scene.

5. But really though once Tywin named The Mountain champion, anyone who Tyrion asks to be his champion at this point he’s basically asking to die.

6. Dany’s like “well I guess fucking Daario isn’t going to cause a political disaster at least.”

7. I had forgotten how fascinating Selyse and Melisandre’s interactions are.

8. IS THAT SETTING UP BURNING SHIREEN FUCK THAT.

9. Dany is capable of nuanced thought when it comes to innocence and guilt of whole groups of people and WE JUST SAW IT with how Jorah changes her mind and I’m JUST SO ANGRY.

10. That is the only time we get the story of Sandor and the fire from his own mouth and I did not mean to be this moved.

11. Hot Pie talking about food (oh yeah and Arya) is so precious. And now I want steak and kidney pie. With gravy.

12. “Using honest feelings to do dishonest work is one of her greatest talents.” The truest thing Tyrion has ever said about Cersei.

13. What a great snow castle. Too bad Joffrey part 2 knocked it down.

14. Ew ew ew Petyr kissing Sansa is so skeevy and gross.

15. “A great deal might change between now and never” is a great line though.

16. I hate Petyr but it’s good he pushed Lysa out the Moon Door before she killed Sansa.

4x08

1. Jon and Co all reminding Sam that Gilly is a survivor is so great. Brotherhood at its best.

2. Missandei and Grey Worm are young people with old souls and their relationship is precious to me.

3. Alfie is SO GOOD at showing how deeply Ramsay has him under his control even when he’s alone with the Ironborn.

4. Petyr is part Braavosi? Fascinating.

5. Sansa TOLD the Lords of Vale who she was??? Her testimony is such a good bit of acting on Sansa’s part. It’s a lie hidden in a lot of truth, and she was QUICK to think it through and come up with it.

6. Jorah telling Dany about the pardon is a scene that breaks my heart. 💔 She is HARSH here but I love the full blown Targaryen on display.

7. Roose being like TELL ME WHAT YOU SEE like the Lion King cracks me up so hard.

8. I will never give Ramsay the Bolton name in anything I write as long as I am a fan of this show out of pure hatred. He is Ramsay Snow forever and always.

9. I remember I was so worried that they were going to have Petyr try to sexually assault Sansa. OH I WAS A SWEET SUMMER CHILD.

10. Arya laughing at the news of Lady Arryn’s Death is an immensely human reaction and I love that she just CANNOT STOP.

11. I know people hated that scene with Jaime and Tyrion talking about beetles but I have two takeaways: first, a septon tried to touch Jaime once???? Headcanon: Little Jaime looked that septon dead in the eye and said “my father wouldn’t like that” and it never happened again. The septon was summarily replaced. Second: Jaime has never thought about ANYTHING in his whole life as deeply as baby Tyrion thought about beetles.

12. Oberyn is so fun to watch fight and Jaime agrees with me.

13. You don’t need him to confess Oberyn really you don’t you GOT HIM my beautiful prince.

14. How did the Gods make their will known if BOTH champions killed each other dead, huh Tywin? (The Mountain is... less Dead?)

4x09

1. Sam mulling over the legalistic interpretation of their vows and Jon trying to explain what sex and love are like are both SO CUTE.

2. I love that everyone around that fire has heard the “Tormund fucked a bear” story and I’m kind of sorry Ygritte didn’t let him finish.

3. Maester Aemon revealing his Targaryen identity was lovely. Also Sam Cussing to get Gilly in the gate= AMAZING

4. Alliser Thorne ADMITTING HE WAS WRONG? I am dead of shock.

5. Sam and Pyp talking about fear and bravery is... so darling.

6. They have A GIANT RIDING A MAMMOTH and I will forgive a small amount of nonsense for giving me that image.

7. See Alliser looking at the horn blower like REALLY? IN THE FUCKING MIDDLE OF MY SPEECH? Before they realize it’s the horn at Castle Black is PRICELESS.

8. Speaking of which I may not like Alliser but he gives a good “let’s not die” speech.

9. Bless Grenn for getting Janos Slynt off the wall.

10. Pyp dying in Sam’s arms was not something I was ready for.

11. You’ve heard of horsepower... now get ready for MAMMOTH POWER (wildling used mammoth salesmen probably)

12. Sam remembering that being NICE to Olly when asking to go up the wall rather than just screaming at him is... telling.

13. Grenn is THE BEST KID AND I LOVE HIM

14. Ghost is going to EAT SOME WILDLINGS

15. Ygritte :...(

16. How is Tormund even ALIVE??? He’s like a frickin PIN CUSHION.

17. “They held the gate” is a line that will make me cry now. Grenn and co. Didn’t let that giant through :...(

3x10: back when D and D remembered the Children existed that one time

Also back when Jaime had a plan that didn’t end with ANY OF HIS FAMILY KILLING EACH OTHER BUT TYWIN ENDS UP DEAD ANYWAY WHY ARE WE LIKE THIS.

1. Jon deciding single-handedly that he’s going to KILL Mance Rayder. Boss move.

2. Oh FFS. Pull the stick out of your ass Stannis and let Mance be.

3. Qyburn is like “out of my way bitch I’m doing necromancy”

4. Cersei telling Tywin the truth to get out of Marrying Loras is... still... making my jaw drop and I KNEW SHE WAS GOING TO DO IT. And there’s ACTUAL EMOTION on Tywin’s face and EVERYTHING SHE SAYS ABOUT PAYING SOME REAL FUCKING ATTENTION TO HIS FAMILY IS TRUE

5. Ah yes “Jaime writes his family’s dialogue” part one. I CHOOSE YOU OMG AND SEX IN THE LORD COMMANDER’S OFFICE I CANNOT BELIEVE WE GOT THAT. Even if I’m still on the fence about whether Jaime would be ok with doing it THERE I’m mostly on board because she JUST TOLD DAD THE TRUTH AND TOLD HIM HE WAS THE ONE SHE WANTED AND I DON’T KNOW WHO LET THE SHIPPERS WRITE THIS SCENE BUT YAY.

6. Dany is still learning all kinds of nuance... I feel like the year contract thing was an attempt to balance her need to be a liberator and the reality on the ground?

7. You are telling me that the Dany who was that upset at Drogon eating ONE child let him burn a WHOLE CITY? I call bullshit.

8. Also this is a CLASSIC example of “one sibling does something wrong and the other two get punished for it” poor Viserion and Rhaegal.

9. Maester Aemon knows how to give a mass eulogy.

10. MEANWHILE NORTH OF THE NORTH HI BRAN meet the hugest weirwood in Westeros AND SOME ICE ZOMBIES

11. POOR MEERA I FORGOT SHE HAD TO HELP JOJEN DIE

12. If the children can do that WHERE ARE THEY LATER

13. holy shit bloodraven is creepy

14. Arya and Brienne meeting :) so cute

15. And Sandor being like YOU ARE TOO NAIVE TO PROTECT HER is cute in its own way.

16. Wow Brienne and Sandor really knock the shit out of each other how are they still alive.

17. Sandor saying awful things to Arya to make it easier for her to kill him was tragic and you can see the desperation in his eyes even as he says the worst of it.

18. JAIME LANNISTER MAKES DECISIONS HE WILL REGRET LATER LIKE NOT GOING ALL OF THE WAY TO THE BOAT WITH TYRION

19. I Had forgotten how rough that last conversation between Tywin and Tyrion was and how devastating those performances are.

20. Varys being like oh fuck those bells I’m going too... prescient.

21. Love the music with Arya on the ship to Braavos!

[katlyn1948]

Jon’s Letter (Part 7 of “The Family of Storm’s End” Series)

Summary:

Arya is informed of Jon's impending visit and Gendry gets nervous.

Notes:

I wrote this instead of sleeping last night. I also wrote three more drabbles last night...instead of sleeping. I have insomnia and it was full force last night. You all should see me at work write now. I am trying everything in my power to NOT fall asleep at my desk. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this one. It reveals Jon's letter to Gendry from "Only Human." Happy reading!

Jon’s Letter

Six moons had passed since Shireen’s birth and nearly a year since Jon’s last visit. Arya had received a letter from her dear brother informing her of his impending visit. It seems that her sister, Sansa, had loose lips and informed Jon of newest Baratheon’s birth. Although sudden, Arya could not hold her excitement for her brother’s arrival and decided to tell her husband of the coming company.

With Shireen sleeping in her cot and Bella playing with Mya in her chambers, Arya went searching for her stubborn bull. As usual, he could be found in the forge working on something for some lord. Arya enjoyed watching him work and from the shadows, she could do just that. She studied him for a bit, watching hammer away at the anvil. He was wearing his shirt with the sleeves cut showing off his muscular arms. His sweat was sticking to him, causing his skin to gleam under the high sun. Arya licked her lips in lust and had half a mind to take him right on the forge table as they had done a few drunken moons ago. Nevertheless, to her disappointment, they were not the only ones in the forge.

Arya creeped from the shadows and stood just before him, startling him to the point that he almost dropped his hammer on his foot.

“Gods, Arya! When are you going to stop doing that?” He exclaimed.

Arya grinned, “Never.”

Gendry gave a short laugh and shook his head before leaning down to meet her lips. It was short kiss, but filled with love and passion.

“What are doing here?” He asked as he pulled away.

He noticed the wide grin spread on her face.

“It is Jon! He is coming to visit. He wants to meet Shireen.”

Gendry’s face went pale and he had a sudden lump in his throat that proved difficult to swallow. Arya noticed the sudden change in demeanor in her husband.

“Is everything alright?” She asked him.

Gendry nodded and turned to the sword he was working on before Arya had entered the forge. Arya lifted her thick left brow and gave him a questioning look.

“You’re lying.” She stated.

He cursed under his breath and faced his stubborn wife.

“I hate that you can do that. Read my face.”

Arya let out a laugh, “It’s really not that hard. Even the daftest person in Westeros would be able to read your expressions. You are horrible at trying to conceal them.”

Gendry gave her a look for annoyance. He could tell she enjoyed teasing him.

“So, are you going to tell me or do I have to spar you for the information?” She questioned.

Gendry grumbled but gave a defeated sigh, “Remember the letter Jon sent me before he came to visit the first time?”

Arya nodded, urging him to continue.

“Well…the letter said that if I put another babe in you that he would personally come down from beyond the wall, with Tormund, and castrate me, making me into a eunuch. As my friend, he congratulated me, but as your brother he wanted to kill me.” He confessed.

Arya burst into an uncontrollable laughter that made her belly hurt.

“What is so funny?” He asked, annoyed.

“You believed him?!” She laughed.

“Of course I believed him! I heard what he did to Ramsey Bolton before your sister fed him to the dogs.” He said sheepishly.

“Oh my sweet summer child. I think you should be more afraid of what I’ll do to you if you put another babe in me.” Arya said as she patted Gendry’s chest in reassurance. She gave him a soft peck on the cheek before stalking off with a smile still very much on her face.

Gendry was more confused than before as he stared at his departing wife. “Wait! Arya! What I that supposed to mean?”

[youth-wandering]

GoT characters as Twilight  characters

the similarities are astounding everyone. 

The Starks are obviously the Cullens. Bran is Alice. Jon is Edward on account of being a brooding emotional fuck. Sansa is Rosalie cause gotta slay those rapists like the queen she is. Ned is Carlisle: noble af, old & tired. Robb is Jasper, a military genius. Arya is Emmett cause both are peak jock™. Catlyn is Esme (sorry Cat...we know Esme is kinda bland, but she’s the only one that works).

Rickon is Bella. Very little personality, dies at a very inconvenient time. 

Dany is Renesmee. The Chosen One™. 

Jaime is Jacob. Hot and dumb, but will go to bat for you. Also when faced with “should I own up to my own secret” just starts getting naked. 

Cersei is Victoria. Gotta be on top and will literally slaughter you if you look at her wrong. Or kill her family. Either one. 

Which makes Joffrey...James. Heckling people for no reason and not in a nice way. 

So Robert B. is Laurent. Not the ultimate worst dude, but doesn’t do great things. Mainly because he won’t stop his horrible family members from doing horrible things *cough cough* Victoria/Cersei & James/Jeoffrey.

Lancel (pre-high sparrow) is Riley. Does anything for some dick and easily manipulated to do wrong.

Ramsay is Jane bc that bitch can really torture you. 

Myranda is Alec bc his powers aren’t as cool, but he’s gotta tag team in on that torture too.

Tyrion is Aro. Very calculated and will cut you to get his way. 

Littlefinger is Caius. Hides behind Aro like a facade but is really a lil bitch.

The entire Citadel is Marcus. Old white men. Irrelevant branch of power. The most unhelpful in basically all situations.

The Hound is Demetri. Just following orders, but really loves to catch people and watch them die.

The Mountain is Felix. Truly suicidal to challenge.

Melisandre is Heidi. Uses her body to get her and her allies what they want.  

Stannis is Sam. A true Alpha: strong leader, does what he believes is right even if it makes him unpopular. 

Shireen is Emily. Sweet summer child, but literally scarred for life.

Euron is Paul. Always mad and ready for a fight to the death in the mud. 

Brienne is Leah. Deserves everyone, gets no one due to the cruel world around her, but can beat anyones ass...especially the men that wronged her.

Poddy P is Seth bc baby cinnamon roll obviously.

Theon is Alistair. Runs away at the first sign of trouble on account of being severely traumatized and all.

Yara/Asha is Kate Denali. Electricity running through her veins like a bamf. 

The Sand Snakes are the Amazonian Vampires. Hot & cool af. 

Sam is Charlie. Learns The Truth™ (wights & white walkers & R+L). Becomes Actual Dad to everyone and Real Dad to little Sam. Always like “what in the god damn heck are we doing this is not normal”. 

No one in Twilight is good enough to be Margaery or Oberyn. 

Please add more as you see fit friends. 

[sneakystarks]

Oh, my sweet summer children

“Think about everything else everyone predicted: - Everyone: Ned Stark is the hero! He’s taking dem bitches Cersei Lannister and Joffrey DOWN!

- GRRM/D&D: BITCH YOU THOUGHT! **Kills Ned**

-Everyone: OMG I’m so sad Ned died! But don’t worry! Robb Stark, the amazing King in the North will avenge his death and take the Lannisters DOWN and live happily ever after in Winterfell with his mother and wife and child! - GRRM/D&D: BITCH YOU THOUGHT! **Red wedding**

-Everyone: YAS OBERYN MARTELL! YOU KILL THAT MOUNTAIN! TYRION IS SAVED!!!! - GRRM/D&D: BITCH YOU THOUGHT! **Oberyn’s head goes POP**

-Everyone: Stannis the Mannis!!! Now that he is losing the war, he’ll see that Melissandre is bullshit and kick her to the curb and actually take the Seven kingdoms from Cersei!!!   - GRRM/D&D: BITCH YOU THOUGHT! **Has Melissandre burn Shireen alive**

Now think about what everyone’s predictions were at the end of season 6/during season 7:

-Everyone: OMG Dany has 100 000 Dothraki screamers, 10 000 Unsullied, The Iron Islands, Highgarden AND Dorne! AND THREE MOTHERFUCKING DRAGONS!! Cersei won’t stand a chance!!! Dany will be Queen by episode 4 just watch!!! -GRRM/D&D: BITCH YOU THOUGHT! **Dany by episode 4: ALL MY ALLIES ARE GONE**

- Everyone: AWW SAM!! He’s finally at the Citadel where he always wanted to be! He’s gonna love it there and find soooo many important clues as to how to defeat the WW! - GRRM/D&D: BITCH YOU THOUGHT! **Shit montage**

- Everyone: OMFG ARYA AND SANSA ARE GONNA KILL EACHOTHER?!?! - GRRM/D&D: BITCH YOU THOUGHT! **Thank you for all your many lessons Lord Baelish…I will never forget them**

Now that we have seen Jon and Dany got together, everyone is all like:  OMG JON AND DANY FOREVAAAA! WHO CARES ABOUT THE CRAZY AMOUNT OF INCEST?! TARGARYENS SURE DON’T AND THEY ARE BOTH TARGARYENS! THEY ARE THE SONG OF ICE AND FIRE AND WILL DESTROY THE WHITE WALKERS TOGETHER AND TAKE THE IRON THRONE TOGETHER AND HAVE A MAGICAL TARG BABIES!!!!

PLEASE! “

Beautiful quote from a post by @sweetsummersansa, seen here: https://sweetsummersansa.tumblr.com/post/165621572886/all-reasons-jon3rys-will-not-be-endgame-jonsa

[7deadlycinderellas]

If the summer of our lives could just come again, ch 17

AO3 link

 King’s Landing

Robert hasn’t even been dead two days before Joffrey dismisses Ned, and Sansa and him are turned out. The snow has barely had a chance to settle on the ground.

They are given a day to pack their things.

A tiny part of Sansa’s heart is sad. There are fond goodbyes of course, Tommen hugs her as tightly as though he were her own brother.

Tyrion is even more despondent. Joffrey’s selection for his replacement hand is, of course, Tywin Lannister.

“Couldn’t you convince him to send you back to Casterly Rock? I mean, if he dislikes having you around so much…”

“I’m afraid he distrusts me possibly taking control of Casterly Rock more than he dislikes my face.”

Sansa gets lost in thought at that. She’s unsure who even would have ended up warden of the west had the dead stayed dead. She knows there are Lannisters scattered about the whole region, one she’s never heard of likely.

She pauses a bit before her next line.

“Why don’t you ever leave? You’re a clever man, there’s a whole world outside Westeros where no one knows you as Tywin Lannister’s son.”

Tyrion exhales noisily, and sets down his glass.

“No one may now me as that, but the whole world will still take one look at me and see a fool or a toy.”

She thinks her next words over, thoroughly.

“We have a mutual friend,” she tells him, “A friend with a great many legs. One who considers his greatest loyalty to the whole realm. You should ask him about our friend overseas. She needed your help before.”

Tyrion actually looks confused for a moment.

“You got shipped there is a crate before, hiding in disgrace. That might not be necessary. You could sail away a free man.”

Her next words are grim.

“There’s enough horrors to come to Westeros that I would flee if I could.”

Throughout the rest of their goodbye, a sweet ache forms deep in Sansa’s chest.

“I…I’m going to miss you. Promise me something?”

“Anything,” he tells her, his voice nearly breathy. It’s an odd sound coming from him. He was always good at playing things off, but not this.

“If you hear tell of monsters coming from the north, run.”

She reaches into one of her pockets, pulling out the roll of paper she’d scribbled hastily that morning.

“Dragonglass can kill them. Valyrian steel too. There’s a blacksmith in Flea Bottom named Mott, there’s instructions in here, he can follow, but…”

There’s tears pricking at the back of her eyes, and her words are stumbling.  It’s not just because if the others reach this far south, it means the north has fallen, fallen so far she can scarcely imagine.

Before Tyrion can react, she reaches out and grasps the fingers of his right hand, raising his knuckles and pressing her lips to each of them in turn, much as he had once before.

The act calms her enough, that when she rises to her feet, her words are more steady.

“You never caught my words for their meaning. My father did, but you didn’t. I said Tysha was your first wife, you never asked me who your second was.”

She turns and leaves, without stopping to look at his face. An errant tear creeps down her cheek. She wipes it off.

Whatever feelings the encounter stirred inside her are pushed down by what happens later that morning.

Sansa and Ned are waiting near where their horses are being packed, when they approached by a flustered looking Brienne and Shireen.

“Have either of you seen Lord Stannis?”

“He left yesterday after supper,” Sansa tells, “To retrieve his men and head for the Wall to aid the Night’s Watch.”

Brienne curses. Sansa’s never heard her do that before, and it shocks her.

“Renly’s rushed off. There’s reports of Ironborn ships attacking Shipbreaker’s Bay. Some of them men have swum ashore and are attempting to lay siege to Storm’s End.”

Sansa is astonished.

“What are they stupid? That could garrison a whole army in that hold, and withstand siege for at least a year. And if the storm’s don’t take it out, raiders certainly can’t!”

She’s heard tell that the Kingsmoot ritual involves drowning the participant for a time. Perhaps that ritual has done a number on their brains.

Brienne shakes her head.

“I know. But Lord Renly didn’t want Shireen anywhere near it, I was going to take her back to her father-”

Ned interrupts,

“They left by ship, there’s no way you’ll catch them in the winter weather, and the Wall is no place for a girl.”

Brienne looks lost for a moment, before Ned continues.

“Come with us. We can put the two of you up in Winterfell for a time. It’s a hard season, but we manage every winter, and we’ll be closer to her father than she is if she stays here. We’ll send a raven a head once we leave.”

He regards Brienne,

“You are the girl’s sworn shield correct?”

Brienne nods, solemn.

“Then you should know that this is likely the safest route we can take.”

And after a time, Brienne agrees.

When her and Ned begin to work out the logistics, Sansa moves and takes Shireen’s hand. The girl is quiet, but her hands are shaking.

This is going to be harder than she imagines.

 Winterfell

Blizzards drive them inside.

Northerners can still work in snow, they know the snow, the landscape. But a true blizzard, with thick snow and fog and wind and deep,deep darkness will drive even the most hardy of them cowering for shelter.

It was in one of these deep blizzards that Robb drew up his letters to their bannermen.

Davos had returned some moons before, with a ship full of evacuees and a  nightmare.

He has a flashback to something Osha had asked them when they were ferrying the first ship full south.

“Do you have a family, Davos?”

She never called him ser, but he never minded truly.

“A wife and seven sons.”

“And you’re fine with being here with all of this, instead of with them?”

Davos had shaken his head.

“Of course I’m not. I miss all of them every day. But my wife is one of those rare women who is content being by herself, and my eldest is old enough to have his own family. I’m filling a need here, helping these people stay with their own families, and trying to protect my own from afar.”

That had been the first of the four voyages he had made, expertly avoiding the Night Watch partrolled waters, hold full of refugees. He never let them off in the same spot twice. A few he expected, even tried to sail off on their own, into the open sea.

He told them the story of an entire Free Folk coastal settlement completely overrun by the others. How the wights had piled up upon each other until they could climb the walls of the city, with no care that they were getting crushed under each other and just kept coming.

They didn’t have to be told about it. Jojen had woken up screaming that morning, with a vision he couldn’t tell from a nightmare. They weren’t sure if it had been Hardhorne, but it had sounded just like it.

“And we still don’t know what’s become of Jon,” Arya tells him, hugging herself, “He hasn’t been at Castle Black in years.”

“He wasn’t there,” Davos tells her grimly, “If he had been I’d have sought him out. It was chaos, no one leading, no one guiding. I just shoved as many as I could on the ship, thanked every god I could think of that they can’t swim and fled.”

“We’ll start sending weapons to other keeps,” Robb tells him grimly, “Along with orders that every able man, woman and child to be trained in their use. Take some of the free folk with you to help begin the training.”

“Tell them,” Bran adds, “To make up lists. Add the names of anyone too old, young or sick to train.”

“We’ll start planning, see if we can identify safe places to evacuate them to if the wall is breached.”

Bear Island has become a possibility, since Davos has reminded them that the dead do not swim. After the death of Jeor Mormont in the mutiny at the wall, Dacey and Alysane Mormont had come to Winterfell to seek acknowledgement of their mother’s continued rule.

They had met no resistance at this, but when given the same instructions that the Stark’s other sworn house’s had been given about dealing with fleeing wildlings, they had been met with mirth.

“Wildlings used to try to raid our island, “ Dacey had said, “Now even the Iron born know better. We can do what you say, but I don’t any of them are still foolish enough to try fleeing to our little island.”

“You may be surprised,” Robb tells them grimly, “Most of them seem to be fleeing to whatever’s south of where they currently are.”

Arya watches the two of them from the side of the room, wondering if Lyanna would have resembled them when she grew up. She knew both Alysane and Dacey had been killed at the red wedding. Neither them or their mother had husbands, they all swore their children had been sired by bears.

And with a sudden spark, Arya wonders if she could ask one of them if one of these bears had had red hair and a long beard.

The blizzards also stopper news. Even Bran can’t guide his ravens through them. They have no idea what’s occurred in the capital since Robert’s death. This is one of the few times in his second life that Bran has missed the ability to see through the weirwoods.

And with the onset of winter, Arya is suddenly quite grateful for her mother’s insistence that she marry.

She occasionally will grumble will Gendry wraps her in her arms, his head over hers and his legs bracketing hers.

“Why do you always get to be the big spoon?”

“Cause if I let you be the big spoon I’ll end up missing a limb one of these mornings.”

Her childhood bed is slightly too small for the two of them, but in winter the crowding is welcome.

One morning, when they rise, Gendry spies a fairly dark mark she’d left on his shoulder the night before. It’s not the first- a few weeks prior Robb had leaned in close to examine a pink love bite on his neck, and then backed away, horrified, when he’d recognized it for what it was, but something about it niggles at him.

“I think you can see teeth here…Something bothering you?”

At her bewildered look he clarified,

“I know they call you a she-wolf, but your teeth don’t usually come out unless you’re upset or scared.”

In the old days, so long ago it seemed, she had put up a tough facade, but then melted atop of him. It had been fun to discover that Arya, who fought so hard to keep her outside cold, loved to be held and kissed gently. But when the dead had kept rising and people had kept dying, her kisses got harder, her hands gripping tighter, often leaving him increasingly black and blue. He hadn’t minded, not particularly, except for what it made him think of her mental state.

She sighs, and moves to kiss the mark, trying to soothe it away.

“I didn’t realize that having everyone I loved back would leave me even more scared of losing them again.”

Gendry throws an arm across her back, running his fingers through the hair at the nape of her neck.

“What was that thing in High Valyrian? That thing that weird red and white haired fucker said when he got us out of Harrenhal?”

Arya laughs, “Valar Morghulis. All men must die.”

“Seems a bit morbid to me, but that’s the point I guess. We’re all going to have to die eventually. But you have us all here again.”

Arya’s face looks unconvinced, but she steps back to pull off her shift and begins dressing without another word.

When the blizzard finally passes, everyone in Winterfell has gone stir crazy. Enough for even Gendry to ask to join some of the others to go with Meera and Jojen to go forage for mushrooms.

It’s a bright clear day, and the sun is high in the sky when they’re turning over logs and digging out tree trunks to look for growths to examine and see if they looked edible.

Gendry had never known there were so many kinds of mushrooms, looking through his sack at all the different sizes and shapes. Though, he thinks as Jojen finds a small, spotted one, looks at it and shakes his head, he never really realized how deadly the wrong ones could be either. It wasn’t something that ever came up in King’s Landing, and when on the road, it had never occurred to him to even bother with mushrooms.

They’ve all been out maybe an hour, when Jojen stops suddenly.

When he falls over into the snow, it’s Arya who reaches him first. She rolls him over, runs a hand over his mouth and nose, and then under his chin.

“He’s breathing,” she assures Meera. The other girl’s face has gone ashen, and she’s standing stiff, pulled tight like a lute’s string.

“Rickon, run back to the keep, have them bring Maester Luwin down to meet us,” she says, in a single breath.

Before Gendry can move, and before Rickon’s even out of sight, she moves and grabs Jojen under his arms,

“Gendry, help me,”

He finally snaps out of his haze, and goes to help, and between the three of them, they manage to life Jojen, who remains motionless. He’s not too heavy, but he’s long, and his boots make his feet harder to handle.

It takes doing, but they weren’t too far out, so they get back to Winterfell quickly enough. When the guards Rickon has alerted come out and take Jojen from the three of them, Gendry feels his muscles burn as they go slack.

Arya grabs his hand quietly as they step aside. Meera stands at the end where they had dropped him and she looks frozen to her spot, and like she might fall over herself.

Bran hadn’t gone with them, for obvious reasons, but having been drawn out of the keep by the ruckus, he awkwardly makes his way to join them.

He approaches Meera quietly, and when he reaches out to gingerly touches her hands, she heaves and presses her face into his neck.

Gendry feels Arya pull his hand, and whisper, “leave them be.”

Her voice when she speaks again is incensed, but her face has that same faraway look it had the morning he’d questioned her biting him.

“Jojen better be pretty sick if he scared us that bad,”

“Are you going to yell at him when he wakes up,”

She shakes his head,

“I’m going to set Mother on him.”

The next time they see Jojen is the next day when Meera goes to bring him his supper. Maester Luwin tells them he has a fever and a bad chest infection, and shouldn’t have gone outside. He plies him with ointments to ease the cough he wakes with and makes him a tea to help the fever.

He also still looks suitably terrified by whatever it was Lady Catelyn said to him.

It’s a few weeks later, when Gendry’s by himself in the forge, when Jojen asks if he can come in and sit for a while.

Even this long after, his cough is lingering, so Gendry tells him,

“Sure, but you should stay by the door away from the smoke.”

He sits quietly for a while, reading a book he’s brought with him.

“You’re from the capital right?”

Gendry nods, “Grew up in Flea Bottom, Biggest slum in the whole place.”

“Someplace with that many people, is there anywhere you would go if you got sick?”

Gendry laughs wryly.

“Barely. If you were lucky you might know an old woman who knew about healing or someone at a tavern who was used to sewing up brawl wounds. Mostly if you got sick enough you just died.”

Jojen’s face at this point looks an awful lot like what Arya’s occasionally has.

“After Lady Catelyn scolded me…throughly, I asked her how the maesters learned all they did about helping the sick.”

He’s never met one before Luwin, but even Gendry knew about the citadel. He also knows that no maester would bother himself with the problems of the common folk.

“It’s a big undertaking,” Gendry says, “You basically have to give up your whole life to become one.”

“And that’s stupid,” Jojen replies, forcefully, “Why should they keep all the knowledge just for themselves? People get sick everywhere. Lords have to pay to receive one at their castles, that’s why we don’t have one at Greywater Watch.”

He’s quiet for a bit longer, then admits.

“It didn’t surprise me at all when Meera told me I died young. I always thought I would. In the swamp, it’s much the same. You get sick enough and you just die.”

Gendry thinks long on his next words, before saying.

“Valar Morghulis,”

Jojen nods, having learned enough High Valyrian to know the saying.

“Sounds like an excuse if you ask me.”

 Over the Wall

The boy is walking steadily, pointing and babbling when Gilly finally decides on a name for him.

Jon had told her about his friends at Castle Black, and she had liked the sound of the name Aemon. It makes Jon’s heart twinge, wondering if one of his only remaining relatives was still living, but happy to know he would be remembered if not.

“It’s not so bad,” she tells him, “Lots of us don’t name our babes until they walk. They die too easily when they’re small.”

The cave really isn’t a good place for a young child, but it’s safer than above ground. And when Aemon begins to talk, he begins to whisper the same words Jon does.

These are the words Rowan has begun teaching him. Maester Luwin had taught all of the Stark children High Valyrian, but Jon doesn’t believe it ever sounded like this coming from him. He recalls his words sounded stiff, practiced. Luwin had waved them all on, saying that reading it was more important. The words the trees speak are different. It’s like they speak in all the senses.

Ygritte had listened to them one day, and said they didn’t even sound like words.

“Almost sounds like you’re singing.”

Sometimes Jon sits and listens to the wind outside the caves, blowing through the trees that dot the hillside. Singing seems an appropriate word, he hopes that what he sounds like.

Gilly and the other’s don’t always make it back for supper, their map-making taking time, though their paths through the caves are unobstructed. Sometimes Ygritte leaves and hunts something to roast. The moss Rowan seems to favor doesn’t seem to do much to bolster a human’s strength. She dries some, and sends them with Henneh and Petra, Gilly’s youngest sisters. When she gives it to them, sometimes they’re gone overnight.

Jon still feels overwhelmed, and one day, he finally asks Rowan,

“So, what’s the endgame for this? What is it all for?”

Rowan looks contemplative, and reaches out to touch his hands.

“What brought you over the wall Jon Snow?”

He is confused,

“Duty? Following my commander’s lead?”

Rowan smiles, almost amused.

“Why specifically?”

Jon pauses for a long time.

“We were hoping to find my uncle Benjen and the other rangers who’d gone missing. And to find out why the wildlings were fleeing their villages.”

Rowan nods. She reaches out and touches the root of the dead tree.

“All of the trees speak the same language, and they all speak to one another. Perhaps you could ask them if they had seen your uncle?”

The question should be bizarre, but it’s become almost normal.

“This one’s dead, will it be able to answer?”

Rowan shakes her head.

“But I can take you to one that will.”

The journey isn’t far, it’s down one of the close caverns Gilly has already mapped. The little weirwood is barely larger than the one Rowan had rooted, maybe a few years. Its trunk is skinny, and it’s only maybe ten or twelve feet tall.

When he realizes he must look apprehensive, Rowan touches him.

“Go ahead. It’s not a person, it can’t take offense.”

Jon’s words whisper his memories of his uncle. His height, build, his long hair. Who his parents were, his siblings. These words become his image, his voice giving shape to his very self.

Jon is so shocked when the tree responds he nearly falls over. Listening he finds, is easier than speaking. Maybe it always was.

He doesn’t see it, not really, not in the way he’d heard Bran speak of his visions. It’s like he was there, and he’s remembering it.

He remembers seeing Benjen being surrounded by the others. He recognizes their piercing blue eyes without a word. He remembers them pierce his heart. He remembers him fleeing, beginning to turn blue himself. He remembers Rowan, as clear as she is standing beside him right now. He remembers seeing her take him by the hand, to one of her caves.

When Jon pulls himself out, he asks her,

“He’s still alive.”

“For want of a better word. He is not whole, but he is still himself.”

Jon feels a weight lift off his chest as the two of them make their way back to the main cave.

They make more journeys out to the weirwood, sometimes day after day in a row, when Rowan feels Jon needs to work on his speech, or she remembers something she feels he needs to see more than others.

He spies Gilly and the others carrying rough crosses.

“Iron and dragonglass,” Rowan acknowledges, “I buried one far north. They are doing the same south towards the wall. If we get them in the ground before they manage to breach it, then they shouldn’t be able to keep rising. The long dead should stay down.”

Before? Jon thinks, more than a little alarmed.

One night, he returns from his lessons to only a fire and Ygritte.

“No one else back yet?”

Ygritte shakes her head. She’s holding a sword.

Jon feels the back of his neck prickling.

“Where’d you find that?”

“One of these caverns. Rowan said it belonged to the tree-man who lived here before. More fun than the axe.”

Brynden Rivers, Jon recalls, is what she had said was the original name of the man who became the Three-Eyed Raven. A bastard, just like him.

He goes to take a look at the handle, and something about the blade catches his eye.

“May I?”

She shrugs.

The weight gives it up.

“This is Valyrian steel,” he tells her, astonished, “Like Longclaw. There’s less than a dozen of these left in Westeros.”

“So a good find?”

He recalls his siblings telling him to hold tightly to Longclaw, because it could destroy Others.

“Hold onto this,” he tells her, passing the sword back. She raises an eyebrow.

“Sure I’m not going to lob any important bits off in your sleep now?”

He laughs.

“You would have done it by now if you were.”

Maybe it’s the peace of the moment, or the joy of finding the sword, or maybe it’s the firelight catching her hair.

“Can I kiss you?”

Ygritte’s face turns contemptuous. He can feel the mocking in her words before they even start. Whatever despair her memories had brought to her, there is no sign of.

“All these years throwing myself at you and all you’re going to do is kiss me?”

He snorts.

“I know nothing remember, I have to learn.”

And before she can get in a retort, he leans over and follows through.

He kisses quite a lot of her that night, and though she isn’t quiet the whole time, none of her words are complaints.

[7deadlycinderellas]

if the summer of our lives could just come again, ch3

AO3 link

 Davos

Leaving Shireen again is the hardest thing he’s ever done.

Waking up in bed with Marya had been surreal enough, it had seemed decades since he had seen her. Going through the keep to encounter all seven of his sons, even Dale, too, had felt nearly like a dream. They’d come to visit, he remembered suddenly. Steffon’s name-day had just passed.

That whole day, he had tried to enjoy it.

When the older boys began to leave, is when he had to set his plan in motion.

Faking summons from Stannis was easy enough, turns out he had been planning to send for him soon anyway. Getting to Dragonstone was also shockingly easy.

Stannis had been his usual self, gruff and straight-forward. He had asked him to help him go over changes to shipping schedules what the effects of the late summer droughts on the tides. It had ended far too slowly.

Then on his way out, he had heard a small laugh.

“I’m supposed to be in lessons, but I had to come see you Onion Knight!”

Shireen was as small as she had been, her arms and legs had not yet begun to lengthen. Her face still bore the roundness of youth, her blue eyes shining.

Davos’s heart seizes as he allows himself to hug her tightly, without breaking. “Not having anymore dragon-dreams are you child?” he asks, remembering the nightmares that had plagued her.

Shireen looks confused. The comet, Davos remembers, her nightmares had begun with the coming of the comet.

“I haven’t dreamed of any dragons, I wish I did though, it sounds more exciting than the boat dreams I’ve had lately.”

He leaves her with just that single hug, trying his best to banish the image in his head of her burning.

Returning home, Davos recalls that Maester Cressen had once suggested betrothing Shireen to Robyn Arryn and sending her to the Eyrie, but Stannis hadn’t agreed.

Davos couldn’t imagine marrying Shireen off to that sickly, ill-tempered boy, but he wondered if he could somehow convince Stannis to let her be fostered somewhere else.

Renly, it hits Davos suddenly. Stannis’s brother had no children, but the court at Storm’s End was always bright and lively, fitting with it’s Lord’s showy and dramatic personality. And perhaps with his daughter so near, Stannis might not wish to lay siege to it.

It ended up, in the end, not truly being difficult at all.

“Storm’s End is the Baratheon ancestral home, it would be good for Shireen to see it. And I think having her around might put some responsibility into your brother, being that he currently has no heirs.”

Stannis’s eyes are hard to read, part distaste, part uncertainty.

“Last he saw her, Renly said she was ugly.”

Davos laughs softly in derision.

“Your brother may be thoughtless, but he isn’t needlessly cruel. Shireen may not be a great beauty, but she is a sweet, good child with a fine mind. She will win Renly over as easy as she won me over.”

He tries not to sound desperate, but Stannis is already speaking of the mystics, and he knows Melisandre may soon come to him.

And Stannis agrees, and Davos feels like maybe he’s won this time. That maybe they will win this time.

A week later, the agreement had been pounded out. Davos wonders if perhaps Renly simply saw a way to one-up his brother, but if it ends with Shireen safe, then it’s good either way.

Stannis asks him to accompany her. He would have offered anyway.

“Where are we going now, Onion Knight?” She asks him.

“We’re going on a quest.”

“Me too?”

“Well we’re going to need someone to read me all the books about all the old quests, so I know how I’m doing it right.”

There’s a touch of disappointment on her face. He takes her by the hand to help her into the wheelhouse.

“I have to go and rescue someone, then we have to ride north and try to stop some monsters.”

“Who are you rescuing? A princess in a tower?”

Davos laughs. Shireen did often have an affinity for the trapped princesses.

“A prince perhaps, though he would likely spit if he heard me call him that. I need to help him get back to his princess.”

Shireen wrinkles her nose.

“Not Prince Joffrey right?”

Davos can’t even imagine a laugh here. If half the stories he’s heard are true, the crown prince was more likely to need people rescued from him.

“No, this boy doesn’t even know what he is yet. But he will rise to greatness anyway. I’d like you to meet him someday, he’s one of your cousin’s actually.”

“What’s his name?”

“Gendry”.

He could remember the boy before, in his cell hopeless and ashamed. He could remember the man he became, who had wanted to help people even before learning he was of noble blood. Davos had believed Danaerys had intended to legitimize him for his heroism during the battle against the dead. She hadn’t had the chance. And part of Davos wondered if he would have even wanted that.

“Why does he need to be rescued?”

Davos sighs deeply.

“Because some people with a lot of power will want to hurt him, and he can’t save himself from where he is.”

A bastard boy on the streets of Flea Bottom. He was beholden to his apprenticeship unless released, and any route out of the city would be fraught with danger. Bandits, pirates, men who might try and sell him, all the worse if anyone got a good look and maybe figured out who he was. Ned Stark had figured out the Queen’s secret easily enough, but it would be a falsehood to say no one in King’s Landing ever questioned her fair haired children before.

“Do you know how you’re going to rescue him?”

That makes Davos smile.

“Do you remember why I told you your father cut off the tips of my fingers before knighting me?”

“Because you were a smuggler?”

“Which means I am excellent at getting things out of places and getting them where they aren’t supposed to be without being found out.”

He put his fingers to his lips to remind Shireen that she shouldn’t tell this to anyone, then taps her on the nose and shuts the door and moves to mount his horse so that they could leave.

He hopes he’s right.

 Sansa

Sansa carries Lady through the hallway and into her chambers. When she turns, she notices Arya sitting on her bed and yelps, dropping Lady to the floor. The wolf, now the size of a regular wolf, gives her a look of disgust, and pads off, taking a step onto the trunk at the end of Sansa’s bed and climbing up to curl up and fall asleep.

Arya cocks an eyebrow.

“I thought you had more nerve than that.”

“What are you doing here?” Sansa asks her, slipping off her shoes and stockings.

“Can I stay with you tonight? I had a bad nightmare last night.”

Sansa sighs, slipping one hand up to undo the ties at the top of her gown.

“Can you help me undo my straps?”

Arya reaches out and yanks the strings, loosening them. Sansa slips out of her gown and into her nightshift with ease before speaking again.

“Should I even ask which one?”

There were so many to choose from that they were both having. The Long Night nightmares, the watching Father get beheaded again nightmares, the ones where going through the anomaly just put them straight back in Hell (Ramsey for Sansa, Harrenhall for Arya).

“The one about Hardhorne. I think I had it because Jon left yesterday.”

Damn. Neither of them had been at Hardhorne, but Jon’s stories were so vivid and descriptive. The piles of bodies being climbed by walkers before they too rose, the people who ran straight into the water, clawing their way towards the boats trying to run. They had both had this one too.

Arya distracts herself by petting Lady.

“You really shouldn’t carry her everywhere now, she’s getting too big.”

“I’ll carry her for as long as I can. It will make me stronger.”

“She’s going to be bigger than you soon.”

“Then maybe someday she’ll carry me instead.”

Arya is quiet after that, and pulls off the cloak she’d thrown over her night shift in case one of the servants came by. She leaves it on the trunk next to Lady.

“Bran told me the Reeds should be here sometime tomorrow.” Sansa tells her as she crawls under her furs.

Arya bites her lip.

“That means we’re going to have to tell everyone tomorrow.”

Sansa laughs hollowly.

“Jon was hard enough...I can’t imagine how we’re going to tell Robb or Mother.”

Arya feels her stomach tighten. She could barely look at Gray Wind when he followed along with Robb after having seen what had become of them before.

“I can’t believe you managed to have the eloquence to tell what we know to Tyrion in just a single letter.”

“Well it was pretty rambling and confusing. I told you, I told him I saw things in visions. That King Robert was in danger, that people would look more closely at Joffrey, Tommen and Myrcella. Not to trust a damn thing Littlefinger says. More politics, fewer ice zombies. Besides, I had that trump card to make sure he paid my words due.”

Arya frowns.

“I saw you give him the letter when he was leaving with Jon. What on earth did you tell him?”

She hadn’t been close enough to hear their conversation, But whatever Sansa had whispered in the Imp’s ear had affected him enough that his eyes had gone wide and he’d stood in the same spot, seemingly dazed until Uncle Benjen had prodded him and he’d tucked the letter into his satchel and rejoined everyone.

“I told him the name of his first wife.”

Arya’s surprised.

“I never knew he was married before you.”

“Most people don’t. No one outside his family should know anything about it. That’s why it worked.”

“What happened?”

Sansa smiles grimly.

“It’s not my story to tell. The only reason I think he even told me was because we were in the crypts sure we were going to die that night. Airing our sins and all that.”

Arya rolls over to face her.

“I guess I just don’t really understand your relationship with him. I couldn’t imagine you being so close to someone you were forced to marry.”

Sansa laughs. It is somewhat ludicrous, and her thirteen year old self would have screamed in horror had she known.

“He was forced into it as much as I was, and he was always kind to me. Beyond that, he tried to protect me, to make me feel better about things that happened. Though of course there was no way he could.”

Sansa turns suddenly pensive.

“And I got a front seat to exactly what his family thinks of him. Jamie aside, the rest of the Lannisters seemed to delight in tormenting him as much as they did tormenting than me. And it made me so incredibly angry. He once told me that people were going to spend a lot of time underestimating me, and that ended up being incredibly true too.”

There’s a long silence after, and Sansa really doesn’t want to have to talk about this anymore.

“Get some sleep Arya. Tomorrow’s going to be rough enough as it is.”

Laying all the way back down, she feels Arya shift beside her.

“Uhh, fair warning? I’ve been told I’m an angry cuddler.”

Sansa’s eyes pop back open.

What on earth was an angry cuddler?

She finds out the next morning when Arya has managed to migrate halfway down the bed and wrap both her arms so tightly around one of Sansa’s legs that she’s woken with the limb heavy and prickly, and entirely unable to stand up.

 Bran

Bran wakes, his stomach already in knots.

He gazes out the window, noting the clear skies. He notices Summer isn’t sleeping underneath like he usually did, perhaps he had an early start.

He manages to dress himself, though he only has one pair of breeches that have been cut to fit over his cast. His boot takes the longest, but he laces it up tightly before reaching for the heavy metal crutches Mikken had made for him when it became clear that he was not up for staying in bed until his leg healed.

Hobbling on the crutches had been hard to learn. The splinted wrist was one thing, but he could hardly admit that it had been near on a decade since he had walked properly at all.

So at least he had an excuse for his staggering.

In the hallway, he bumps into Arya, who’s rubbing the back of her head.

“What happened?”

“Sansa pulled my hair until I woke up and let her leg go.”

He’s not going to question that.

Rather than join the rest of the family at breakfast, Bran has Arya slip in and grab them a platter of oatcakes with honey and sliced apples.

“Where are we going?” Arya asks.

“The stables.”

She makes a face.

“They won’t let you ride with the cast.”

“I’m not going to ride,” Bran tells her, “I’m going to see Willas.”

Arya’s stares at him confused for a moment before it hits her.

“Oh, Hodor.”

“That’s not his name,” Bran says roughly. “So I won’t call him that. He died protecting me, that’s the least I can do. Especially since the other is my fault.”

Arya is quiet most of their slow walk out to the stable. Bran has never been overly forthcoming about what exactly happened to everyone north of the Wall.

When they reach the stables Willas is finishing up with the morning chores. The other grooms have already gone down to breakfast, leaving the three of them alone.

“Hodor,” he says, upon seeing them.

“Have breakfast with us,” Bran says, and Arya offers him the platter.

The three of them sit and eat their cakes in silence. Arya licking a bit of honey off her thumb and Bran leaning over to steal one of her apples.

When they’re finished, Willas stands, and with a “Hodor,” leaves them to haul water for the troughs.

Bran chews thoughtfully on his last bite while Arya wipes off the tray.

Arya finally fixes Bran with a gaze while he chews.

“You’ve been weird since you told us the Reeds were probably going to arrive today, so what is it?”

Bran doesn’t say anything, and avoids her eyes.

“Come on, out with it. Sansa said Meera left almost immediately when you two returned to Winterfell, and you didn’t even mention her again. When you lead us down to the Neck, she didn’t even look at you. What in seven hells happened?”

“Nothing. And that was the problem. We were north for, gods it must have been two or three years. Meera helped keep us safe, she hunted to keep us fed. Underneath that tree, she did her best to keep me sane even though she seemed completely lost after Jojen died. After...Everything that had happened to us, everything I had felt...I suddenly didn’t care. I would have died a hundred times over without her, it didn’t matter“

He’s quiet for a long time.

“I remember, the way Meera was looking at me, before I touched the weirwood tree to see what happened at the Tower of Joy. If she had looked at me like that before...I probably would have died of a heart attack. That’s what she said before she left, was that Brandon Stark died in that cave.”

“Well you didn’t, and you’re alive again,” Arya tells him. “So quit acting like you did die. We all get second chances now, that’s sort of the point isn’t it?”

“All three of them have cause to hate me.”

“Well they definitely will if you stay this way when they all show up. So come on, and lets try and prepare.”

She helps him get back onto his crutches and they hobble back to the keep to try and head off the storm.

 Jojen

Jojen Reed was not used to being confused. His prophetic dreams aside, he had always been clever, and good at his lessons. Feeling completely in over his head was not something he was used to.

But two weeks before when he had woken to his older sister running into his room and hugging him tightly he had been completely at a loss for words. Normally, he would have thought she was ill, but when she dragged him down to breakfast, their Father had been in a similar state. Both of them had looked incredibly tired, but somehow energized, with wild looks in their eyes, babbling on about things that didn’t make any sense.

Then they sat down, and tried to tell him, and it made even less sense.

And even after they had left Greywater Watch, it hadn’t stopped.

He wakes the last day of their travels with a feeling of creeping dread in his gut.

And for the first since she lost her mind, Meera seems as unsure as him.

They’re packing up camp, Father leading the horses to water when he finally brings it up.

“You seem anxious. You and Father were so sure we had to go north to Winterfell when we left, now it seems like you don’t want to.”

Meera laughs.

“We were both so sure we had to go north before. And look how that turned out.”

Jojen doesn’t really know what to say to that. She’d told him he had died on the journey before, which explained her exuberant reaction to seeing him again, but it didn’t really explain her despair. True, she had also mentioned that his body had immediately exploded, but still…

“I know you were probably upset that I died…”

“It wasn’t just you,” she cuts him off. “Everyone. The last time I left home, everyone around me ended up dying, you were just the first. We were under there for over a year, I didn’t even know why anymore, but I trusted the Children of the forest. Then the Night King found us and attacked, and they all died. All of that history, and they died. Then Summer died protecting us, and Hodor died so we could get away, and we ran. “

They’ve finished the packs, and so Meera just pokes at the ground with a stick when she finally continues.

“We got back to Winterfell, and it turned out even Rickon and Osha had died after we left them. I wanted to go home, but I didn’t feel like I could. I went to talk to Bran, and it was like he was gone too. Whatever the Raven did to him in that cave, his body was still alive, but what made him him was gone. He was little more than a shell.”

Father returns to the clearing, leading the horses. They begin loading the packs onto them, when Meera continues. Her voice goes quiet, with a tone in it Jojen’s not sure he’s ever heard come from her before.

“I thought what the two of us had gone through- as hard as it had been, I thought it was special. I thought it was important. I don’t know anymore, I still don’t know if it was worth it. The end of the world still came after all. I don’t know what I’ll do if we get to Winterfell and Bran is still...that thing.”

Jojen can’t really say anything to soothe his sister’s words, so he just listens. He supposes that must do some good too.

They ride for a bit in silence. They’re not far, could reach the keep by mid-day easily. Jojen can still feel Meera sitting stiffly in the saddle. They could have taken a third horse, but neither of them are good riders, having not had much way to practice, given that horses don’t suit bogs well.

As the day goes on, he suddenly feels Meera go still.

“Either of you hear that?” She asks, eyes staring straight off into the trees. When neither him nor Father reaction, she slides off the horse, and grasps her spear.

They aren’t far from Winter Town, it could just be another traveler or someone out hunting, but Meera’s muscles are pulled taut as though she expects this to end in a fight.

She’s still, still as a rock upon a cliff, when the leaves of the underbrush shift and a figure emerges from them.

Jojen feels his heart quicken when he realizes the figure is a wolf.

Meera, on the other hand, softens.

“Summer?” She calls out, in an unsure voice.

Both Jojen and their father watch as Meera kneels in the road, and the wolf approaches her slowly, carefully. Jojen watches in amazement as the beast rests it’s muzzle on top of her knees, and she reaches to rub the top of it’s head.

“You did everything you could,” She assures the wolf, “You were your best, you did your best.”