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cappymightwrite · 4 years ago

Note

So I’ve just read your meta on the TWOW Alayne I sample chapter (it’s amazing btw!) and I noticed something while reading it that I wanted to share and see if anybody else has noticed - nearly every man Alayne dances with during the feast could be taken as a reference to Jon or the Night’s Watch.

Ben Coldwater -> Snow is, obviously, cold water, and Ben is a sneaky Benjen reference

Andrew Tollett -> most likely related to Dolorous Edd Tollett, Jon’s old steward and good friend

Ser Byron the Beautiful -> GRRM has described Jon as a Byronic hero

Ser Morgarth and Ser Shadrich the Mad Mouse -> these men are more dubious, I’m not really sure of the link with Morgarth. Shadrich is a callback from Brienne’s AFFC plot though, and a sign that Sansa’s cover isn’t as secure as she and Littlefinger think it is

Ser Albar Royce - a reference to Waymar Royce, he of the many Jon parallels and Sansa’s old crush, though she finds his cousin(?) stout and dull

The Sunderlands - their family are the lords of the Three Sisters. In ADWD, Davos is told a story on Sweetsister about Ned having to sneak across the Bite during Robert’s Rebellion, to get North and call his banners. A fisherman helped him but drowned when a storm caught their boat - but his daughter got Ned safely to the Sisters. The prevailing story on the islands seems to be that he left her with a bag of silver and a bastard in her belly, whom she named after Jon Arryn

Uther Shett - I was half-convinced this guy also had a relative on the wall, because his name (insulting pun aside) seems to be a reference to Chett, the prologue POV of ASOS who had a grudge against Jon for losing him his position as one of Maester Aemon’s stewards in favour of Sam

Ser Targon the Halfwild - Jon will likely be half-wild when he comes back from the dead, but he’s already been described as ‘half a wildling’ multiple times. Also Targon = Targ-Jon?

Ser Roland and Ser Wallace Waynwood - both are described earlier in the chapter as long-faced with brown hair, which are also Stark features. Alayne thinks of them as “horsefaced”, probably an Arya reference that also calls back to her and Jon’s shared Stark look. Wallace is even the same age as Robb, and thus Jon, would be.

So though Jon wasn’t mentioned by name in the chapter, I think he was very present... not just lemoncake-wise ;)

Thank you! :D Haha for a moment there I was like...wait which meta? Had to take my mind back for a sec there because I've written quite a bit since then! But yeah, doing deep dives into certain chapters is really fun — my next one that's in the works is Jon XI in A Dance With Dragons. Great to hear you enjoyed my Winds one :)

Ooooh that is really interesting and a mighty fine catch! Definitely the vibe I got whilst reading that chapter, after having analysed Alayne II, AFFC (which chronologically precedes it), is that Jon's presence or references to him are made subtly throughout the chapter(s) — especially whenever Winterfell is alluded to because Jon is the "Snow of Wintefell", the "blood of Winterfell", etc. But also vice versa, Sansa is very much connected to Winterfell in Jon's chapters as well — "Winterfell belongs to my sister, Sansa."

But let's take a look at those names you listed below the cut! Big post ahead, so buckle up kids!

So, I hadn't noticed the significance of those names on my reading, but I can well believe what you're suggesting because it plays very much into how I interpreted the subconscious goings on of that chapter — that you have these rememberances/reminders of Winterfell and Sansa's Stark idenity at crucial moments within the chapter’s narrative pacing, especially prior to moments with Harry the Heir. Not to sound too crass, but it's sort like a marking of territory, and this is made even stronger by that goddamn phallic as hell Giant's Lance lemoncake (aka Jon's peen). It's all quite neatly buried, but when you start matching up the imagery...I mean, I guess wolves are territorial beasts, so...checks out? (George...why are you like this?)

It is interesting that we get that iconic entrance of the Giant's Lance lemoncake prior to these dance partners, i.e. a claim has been staked essentially, and it ain't from Littlefinger, which is what could be interpreted on first inspection. And let's not beat around the bush, as uncomfortable as it is (because Sansa is ONLY 13/14!!), this is a sexual claim being made owing to the phallic symbolism and the general tone of the chapter being about Alayne's betrothal/marriage:

And best of all, Lord Nestor’s cooks prepared a splendid subtlety, a lemon cake in the shape of the Giant’s Lance, twelve feet tall and adorned with an Eyrie made of sugar.

For me, Alayne thought, as they wheeled it out.

I legit just snorted re-reading this: "splendid subtlety" MY ASS! What follows is a whole lot of gift-giving, which come to think of it, in combination with this bloody big cake...well, it reads quite a bit like a wedding breakfast to me, followed by dancing, in addition to a possible nod to a Stark bridal cloak, masked by the Arryn colours:

There were gifts as well, splendid gifts. Each of the competitors received a cloak of cloth-of-silver and a lapis brooch in the shape of a pair of falcon’s wings. Fine steel daggers were given to the brothers, fathers, and friends who had come to watch them tilt. For their mothers, sisters, and ladies fair there were bolts of silk and Myrish lace.

Because if we compare this "cloak of cloth-of-silver" with previous descriptions of Sansa's maiden cloak, we see this obvious recurring inclusion of either silver or grey as one of the Stark colours:

Cersei Lannister ignored the question. "The cloak," she commanded, and the women brought it out: a long cloak of white velvet heavy with pearls. A fierce direwolf was embroidered upon it in silver thread. Sansa looked at it with sudden dread. "Your father's colors," said Cersei, as they fastened it about her neck with a slender silver chain.

A maiden's cloak. Sansa's hand went to her throat. She would have torn the thing away if she had dared. – ASOS, Sansa III

"[...] and when they come together for his wedding, and you come out with your long auburn hair, clad in a maiden's cloak of white and grey with a direwolf emblazoned on the back...why, every knight in the Vale will pledge his sword to win you back your birthright [...]" – AFFC, Alayne II

This is all very in keeping with the theme of the chapter, which is meeting Alayne's betrothed, Harrold Hardyng, so obviously a future marriage/alliance is very much a prevalent theme here. Furthermore, the mention of "Myrish lace" for the "ladies fair" does somewhat remind me of Alys Karstark's wedding garb:

The girl smiled in a way that reminded Jon so much of his little sister that it almost broke his heart. "Let him be scared of me." The snowflakes were melting on her cheeks, but her hair was wrapped in a swirl of lace that Satin had found somewhere, and the snow had begun to collect there, giving her a frosty crown. Her cheeks were flushed and red, and her eyes sparkled.

"Winter's lady." Jon squeezed her hand. – ADWD, Jon X

I think some other people have mentioned before how even though Jon makes a conscious comparison between Arya and Alys — "reminded Jon so much of his little sister" — the romanticised, flushed cheeked imagery very much points towards a subconsious allusion to Sansa (ETA: anyone spoken on this got a link?). With that in mind, we could see this as foreshadowing of not only Jonsa, but a Jonsa wedding, and Sansa as Queen in the North — "a frosty crown" "Winter's lady" — with Jon as her king/consort. In my current Jon chapter analysis I've been working with the idea that actually as soon as Jon starts romanticising a girl, which is notably different from just noticing someone's physical beauty (e.g. with Val), that is when the subconscious comparisons to Sansa really jump out.

But anyway! Onto those names...or rather, Jon Snow stand-ins.

Rising, [Ben Coldwater] offered Alayne his hand. “Would you honor me with this dance, my lady?”

“You’re very kind,” she said, as he led her to the floor.

He was her first partner of the evening, but far from the last. Just as Petyr had promised, the young knights flocked around her, vying for her favor. After Ben came Andrew Tollett, handsome Ser Byron, red-nosed Ser Morgarth, and Ser Shadrich the Mad Mouse. Then Ser Albar Royce, Myranda’s stout dull brother and Lord Nestor’s heir. She danced with all three Sunderlands, none of whom had webs between their fingers, though she could not vouch for their toes. Uther Shett appeared to pay her slimy compliments as he trod upon her feet, but Ser Targon the Halfwild proved to be the soul of courtesy. After that Ser Roland Waynwood swept her up and made her laugh with mocking comments about half the other knights in the hall. His uncle Wallace took a turn as well and tried to do the same, but the words would not come. Alayne finally took pity on him and began to chatter happily, to spare him the embarrassment. When the dance was done she excused herself, and went back to her place to have a drink of wine.

And there he stood, Harry the Heir himself; tall, handsome, scowling. “Lady Alayne. May I partner you in this dance?”

She considered for a moment. “No. I don’t think so.”

If I've counted that right, that's 14 men? Alright, here we go.

First up...Ben Coldwater

I think you're right that Ben Coldwater feels very much like a nod to Ben-jen Stark, who is referred to as Ben a few times I think, and Jon Snow (cold water = snow), both men of the Night's Watch. House Coldwater also traces its lineage back to the First Men, and are sworn to House Royce, who are also notably descended from the First Men, have previously married into the Stark family and still maintain close connections to the current house through Ned's fosterage in the Vale. So, through the Royces, we see another possible connection to the Starks and Jon Snow...Jon Snow who was named after Jon Arryn.

I would also add that we have Ben make this inquiry prior to his dance with Alayne:

“Are there no singers?” asked Ben Coldwater.

I don't know, maybe I'm reaching but...singers feature quite a lot in connection to Jon, for instance:

Mance Rayder, who infiltrates Winterfell disguised as a singer called Abel, an anagram of Bael, aka Bael the Bard;

Bael the Bard and the Blue Rose of Winterfell — a story told to Jon by Ygritte, which very much evokes the tale of Rhaegar and Lyanna;

Rhaegar Targaryen, Jon's real father, was a notably skilled lyre player, whose singing supposedly made Lyanna cry — "The dragon prince sang a song so sad it made the wolf maid sniffle," (ASOS, Bran II). He is also theorised to have written the song Jenny of Oldstones, possibly for the Ghost of High Heart, Jenny's friend.

Ygritte — when Jon starts to find her more attractive, when he starts to romanticise her, he observes that "sometimes she sang in a low husky voice that stirred him," (ASOS, Jon II).

Val — again, we start to see Jon begin to warm to Val, to see her in more of a romantic + typically feminine light, because of her singing to the baby Monster: "I have heard you singing to him," (ADWD, Jon VIII).

Sansa — oh, my sweet Sansa...when remembering his family, not quite in his dying moments, but a little bit prior to that, Jon thinks "Of Sansa, brushing out Lady's coat and singing to herself. You know nothing, Jon Snow," (ADWD, Jon XIII).

I think it's clear that Jon loves a good song and you know what? He'd probably be asking about the lack of singers too! One final detail perhaps worth noting is the seat of House Coldwater:

[...] the Coldwaters of Coldwater Burn [...] – TWOIAF, The Vale

Obviously, the "song of ice and fire" is not a person, but more the elemental and destructive forces of the Others and the dragons, yet nevertheless, through Jon's parentage, as well as his actions (burned hand, etc.), plus his personality to a certain extent (hot-headed then repressing emotions) you do have this duality of hot and cold, of fire and ice...Coldwater Burn? Could be something.

Ser Andrew Tollett

So, like you said, the name Tollett immediately puts us in mind of Eddison Tollett, also known as Dolorous Edd, who is like Jon, a black brother of the Night's Watch. And he is a good brother to Jon, voting for him in the election for the Lord Commander, as well as becoming his loyal steward for a time, before being sent on a mission to Long Barrow. Interestingly, Dolorous Edd, as well as the Tolletts in general, do have a bit of a Stark vibe to them...

Like a typical Stark, Dolorous Edd is described as having a "long face" (ACOK, Jon III), a face like a mule's to be exact, but also notably a horse's as well:

"[...] Me, I have the mules. Nettles claims we're kin. It's true we have the same long face, but I'm not near as stubborn [...]" – ADWD, Jon XII

He only wished he had time to kill Tollett as well. Gloomy horsefaced fool, that's what he is. – ASOS, Prologue

He is given the nickname Dolorous Edd (dolorous = mournful), and is referred to several times as being "dour" (ACOK, Jon II, Jon III, ASOS, Jon V, ADWD, Jon XII, XIII), an attribute not entirely out of place when we consider some notable Starks and their disposition, as well as their house words:

He had the Stark face if not the name: long, solemn, guarded, a face that gave nothing away. – AGOT, Tyrion II

Winter is coming. The Stark words had never sounded so grim or ominous to Jon as they did now. – AGOT, Jon VIII

I gave my maidenhood to this solemn stranger and sent him off to his war and his king and the woman who bore him his bastard, because I always did my duty. – ACOK, Catelyn VI

Ned was shorter and plainer of face, and so somber. He spoke courteously enough, but beneath the words she sensed a coolness that was all at odds with Brandon, whose mirths had been as wild as his rages [...] And after the war, at Winterfell, I had love enough for any woman, once I found the good sweet heart beneath Ned's solemn face. – ASOS, Catelyn V

So, not unlike Jon, Arya and Ned, Dolorous Edd has a "long and solemn" face (AGOT, Arya I), as well as a "dour" personality. Furthermore, even House Tollet of Grey Glen's sigil and words have Stark vibes, since according to semi-canon sources, their shield is "pily grey and black" and their words are "When all is darkest," which arguably carries the same ominous, Long Night warning of "Winter is coming". In addition to this, like the Coldwaters, the Tollets are sworn to the First Men descended Royces.

But beyond this, if we take a look at some legendary and historical Tolletts...we actually have two notable names:

Torgold Tollett — also known as Torgold the Grim, though ironically, because he was famous for riding into battle laughing, and naked from the waist up:

The songs say that Torgold knew no fear and felt no pain. Though bleeding from a score of wounds, he cut a red swathe through Lord Redfort's staunchest warriors, then took his lordship's arm off at the shoulder with a single cut. Nor was he dismayed when the sorceress Ursula Upcliff appeared upon a bloodred horse to curse him. By then he was bare-handed, having left both of his axes buried in a foe's chest, but the singers say he leapt upon the witch's horse, grasped her face between two bloody hands, and tore her head from her shoulders as she screamed for succor. – TWOIAF, The Vale

Ser Jon Tollett — In Fire & Blood, Jon Tollett is recorded as a member of King Maegor the Cruel's Kingsguard. After the king's mysterious death, his successor, King Jaeherys I, offered Maegor's surviving Kingsguard a choice between execution or taking the black. Jon Tollett chose the latter. This somewhat parallels Ned's decision to take the black, to a certain extent.

You could argue that there are more than a few similarities, or future foreshadowings, between these Tolletts and Jon Snow...

Ser Byron the Beautiful

Like you mentioned, Jon Snow has been described by GRRM as a "Byronic, romantic hero". I'm so annoyed with myself, because I had written up some good stuff on how Jon really does possess certain Byronic traits but as I was inserting a gif it ended up deleting most of what I wrote...so I'm still a bit bitter over that, but will rewrite it at some point soon. Take my word for it though, Jon Snow is 100% more of a Byronic Hero (a la Byron's own Manfred), than Sandor Clegane, for example:

GRRM: “Well who wouldn’t want to be Jon Snow — the brooding, Byronic, romantic hero whom all the girls love.” [source]

Ser Byron, as well as being described as beautiful, is also notably very gallant, the perfect knight:

"Dutiful and beautiful," said an elegant young knight whose thick blond mane cascaded down well past his shoulders. – AFFC, Alayne II

We all know that Sansa appreciates a bit of genuine courtesy, and in fact, she's taught Jon well in that regard:

"Gilly, he called me. For the gillyflower."

"That's pretty." He remembered Sansa telling him once that he should say that whenever a lady told him her name. He could not help the girl, but perhaps the courtesy would please her. – ACOK, Jon III

I think this Jon stand-in does rely mostly on Jon's connection to the Byronic Hero. So, if anyone is still a bit dubious on that (because Rochester and Heathcliff are trash), just hang in there for my eventual meta on the subject, which focuses on Lord Byron's OG Byronic Hero, rather than the later Brontë/Victorian iterations.

In fact, in terms of Jon's parentage and future romance with Sansa, there's one Byronic tale that may be a particular source of inspiration — The Bride of Abydos. This poem notably includes a romance in which half-siblings are revealed to be cousins...sound familiar?

Ser Morgarth the Merry

Another hedge knight, like Ser Byron, who is sworn into the service of Petyr Baelish. I've got to agree with you here, red-nosed Ser Morgarth's connection to Jon is quite a bit harder to decipher! I have done a little digging though, and it is possible that the Garth in Morgarth is a reference to several Garths that appear in Jon's chapters, as well as Garth Greenhand, the alleged ancestor of legendary House Stark founder...Brandon the Builder:

Garth of Oldtown

Garth of Greenaway

Garth Greyfeather

All of these Garths are rangers/members of the Night's Watch at the same time as Jon, though I think by Dance it is presumed that they are all dead, or at least missing — in fact, Garth of Greenaway kills Garth of Oldtown. Garth on Garth violence!!

Haha, oh god...I think I just got the pun...Morgarth = More Garth! More Garths the merrier! Get it?! More Garths everybody!

George, I hate you.

Ok, so that's what that is. It's literally just a dumb pun, yet it also connects Morgarth to the Night's Watch Garths, and therefore Jon.

Ser Shadrich the Mad Mouse

I think you're right that Ser Shadrich's presence connects us to Brienne's quest, as well as foreshadowing potential shit hitting the fan at the tourney of the Winged Knights. But he also notably makes some interesting remarks, both to Brienne and Sansa, which we can connect to Jon Snow's secret Targaryen heritage:

"Where?" Brienne slapped another silver stag down.

He flicked the coin back at her with his forefinger. "Someplace no stag ever found...though a dragon might." – AFFC, Brienne III

On the surface, in response to Brienne's questioning about the whereabouts of the Stark sisters, Shadrich is talking about a monetary bribe. However, beneath that explicit meaning, is an implicit reference to a stag (Joffrey) failing, where a dragon (Jon) will succeed. Others have talked about this line in more detail elsewhere, but it seems like a pretty good allusion to the foils, Joffrey (a prince who is really a bastard) and Jon (a bastard who is really a prince).

In this exact Winds chapter, however, we also see a conversation between Alayne and Shadrich, which hints at his possible plans to uncover and abduct Sansa Stark in return for a lucrative reward:

“A good melee is all a hedge knight can hope for, unless he stumbles on a bag of dragons. And that’s not likely, is it?”

This "stumbl[ing] on a bag of dragons" could also be seen as an implicit nod towards stumbling upon Jon's Targaryen heritage later in the novel, something that is more "likely" than anyone would expect. That claim might be a reach, were it not for the implication that when Shadrich talks about money, i.e. dragons...he isn't actually talking about gold coins, he's talking about Targaryens, but more than that...he's talking specifically about Jon Snow.

Ser Albar Royce

"Myranda’s stout dull brother and Lord Nestor’s heir." I think like Ser Morgarth, the physical appearance of these stand-ins doesn't always play a factor, because it would be kind of unnerving if they all had solemn long faces... So, what is important here is, like you say, the name Royce and his relation to Ser Waymar Royce, Sansa's first crush, who just happens to resemble and parallels Jon quite a bit:

She had fallen wildly in love with Ser Waymar, she remembered dimly, but that was a lifetime ago, when she was a stupid little girl. – AFFC, Alayne I

Ser Waymar Royce was the youngest son of an ancient house with too many heirs. He was a handsome youth of eighteen, grey-eyed and graceful and slender as a knife. Mounted on his huge black destrier, the knight towered above Will and Gared on their smaller garrons. He wore black leather boots, black woolen pants, black moleskin gloves, and a fine supple coat of gleaming black ringmail over layers of black wool and boiled leather. Ser Waymar had been a Sworn Brother of the Night's Watch for less than half a year, but no one could say he had not prepared for his vocation. At least insofar as his wardrobe was concerned. – AGOT, Prologue

Jon's eyes were a grey so dark they seemed almost black, but there was little they did not see. He was of an age with Robb, but they did not look alike. Jon was slender where Robb was muscular, dark where Robb was fair, graceful and quick where his half brother was strong and fast. – AGOT, Bran I

"They're not my brothers," Jon snapped. "They hate me because I'm better than they are." – AGOT, Jon III

Although, it is worth noting that the Royces, as a whole, do somewhat resemble the Starks in appearance, at least in terms of their eye colour:

Bronze Yohn Royce, the current head of House Royce of Runestone, has "slate-grey eyes" as well as a "solemn face", (AFFC, Alayne I).

Ser Robar, his second son was "comely in a rough-hewn way" (ACOK, Catelyn III), with "pale" eyes (ACOK, Catelyn IV), possibly grey like his father's.

Ser Waymar, Yohn's third son, as mentioned, was "grey-eyed" (AGOT, Prologue).

It isn't as clear whether or not their cadet branch, which Albar belongs to, tend towards grey eyes as well, though we know that Myranda has brown hair, specifically "thick chestnut curls" (AFFC, Alayne II) — typical looking Starks, like Ned, Arya, and Jon, all have brown/dark hair.

As previously mentioned, the Royces are also descended from the First Men, have kinship links to the Starks, knew Ned when he fostered in the Vale, and Bronze Yohn even "knows" Sansa Stark:

"Bronze Yohn knows me," she reminded him. "He was a guest at Winterfell when his son rode north to take the black." She had fallen wildly in love with Ser Waymar, she remembered dimly, but that was a lifetime ago, when she was a stupid little girl. "And that was not the only time. Lord Royce saw...he saw Sansa Stark again at King's Landing, during the Hand's tourney." – AFFC, Alayne I

His seamed and solemn face brought back all of Sansa's memories of his time at Winterfell. She remembered him at table, speaking quietly with her mother. She heard his voice booming off the walls when he rode back from a hunt with a buck behind his saddle. She could see him in the yard, a practice sword in hand, hammering her father to the ground and turning to defeat Ser Rodrik as well. He will know me. How could he not? She considered throwing herself at his feet to beg for his protection. He never fought for Robb, why should he fight for me? The war is finished and Winterfell is fallen. "Lord Royce," she asked timidly, "will you have a cup of wine, to take the chill off?"

Bronze Yohn had slate-grey eyes, half-hidden beneath the bushiest eyebrows she had ever seen. They crinkled when he looked down at her. "Do I know you, girl?" – AFFC, Alayne I

They also have the house words "We will remember", which somewhat evokes the recurring refrain "the north remembers" (ASOS, Catelyn, ADWD, Davos IV, ADWD, A Ghost in Winterfell, TWOW, Theon I), as well as a possible remembrance of the Long Night, similar to the Starks’ and Tolletts’ words. All in all, as well as evoking a certain Starkness (and Jon-ness), the Royces seem set up to be staunch allies of the Starks going forward.

All Three Sunderlands

Since these Sunderland brothers aren't given names, we can assume what is significant about them, in relation to Jon and Sansa, is their Sunderland name. As you noted, the Sunderlands are the reigning lords of the Three Sisters, and in Dance, through Davos' pov, we hear about Ned's time there during Robert's Rebellion:

"At the dawn of Robert's Rebellion. The Mad King had sent to the Eyrie for Stark's head, but Jon Arryn sent him back defiance. Gulltown stayed loyal to the throne, though. To get home and call his banners, Stark had to cross the mountains to the Fingers and find a fisherman to carry him across the Bite. A storm caught them on the way. The fisherman drowned, but his daughter got Stark to the Sisters before the boat went down. They say he left her with a bag of silver and a bastard in her belly. Jon Snow, she named him, after Arryn.

"Be that as it may. My father sat where I sit now when Lord Eddard came to Sisterton. Our maester urged us to send Stark's head to Aerys, to prove our loyalty. It would have meant a rich reward. The Mad King was open-handed with them as pleased him. By then we knew that Jon Arryn had taken Gulltown, though. Robert was the first man to gain the wall, and slew Marq Grafton with his own hand. 'This Baratheon is fearless,' I said. 'He fights the way a king should fight.' Our maester chuckled at me and told us that Prince Rhaegar was certain to defeat this rebel. That was when Stark said, 'In this world only winter is certain. We may lose our heads, it's true…but what if we prevail?' My father sent him on his way with his head still on his shoulders. 'If you lose,' he told Lord Eddard, 'you were never here.' " – ADWD, Davos I

This passage has one of my favourite asoiaf quotes of all time..."In this world only winter is certain. We may lose our heads, it's true...but what if we prevail?" Truly iconic. So defiantly hopeful.

But, yes, you're right that this story, and the Sunderlands, connects us to Ned, but more importantly...to Jon Snow. Really, Jon has quite a few Vale connections, all things considered, and he is named after Jon Arryn after all!

Uther Shett

Well, along with his buddy Ossifer Lipps (ass for lips), Uther Shett (utter shit) is an example of George having some pretty lowbrow fun with punny names. During their dance, Uther paid Alayne "slimy compliments as he trod upon her feet"...so not the best partner!

But from one shit to another...I think you're probably right that Uther Shett is meant to recall Chett, indeed, if we take a look at his description in Winds:

The one on her left was no more than eighteen, and skinny as a spear. His ginger-colored whiskers only partially served to disguise the angry red pimples that dotted his face.

His bad skin is somewhat comparable to Chett's boils:

Chett had a wen on his neck the size of a pigeon's egg, and a face red with boils and pimples. Perhaps that was why he always seemed so angry. – AGOT, Jon V

What is also noteworthy about Chett's prologue pov in ASOS, is that we get this linking of literal snow and Jon Snow:

Snow was falling.

He could feel tears freezing to his cheeks. It isn't fair, he wanted to scream. Snow would ruin everything he'd worked for, all his careful plans. It was a heavy fall, thick white flakes coming down all about him [...] The snow's taken it all from me...the bloody snow...

Snow had ruined him once before. Snow and his pet pig. – ASOS, Prologue

This makes any mention of snow beyond this point a bit more noteworthy, especially since Jon is referred to as "the Snow of Winterfell," (ASOS, Jon I), and we also have Sansa's famous "drifting snowflakes brushed her face as light as lover's kisses" whilst building Winterfell out of snow scene, also in ASOS, (Sansa VII). So, Chett is very important when it comes to establishing this connection.

Ser Targon the Halfwild

Targon is only mentioned once and it is in that list of dance partners. He's not connected to any particular house, all we know of him is that he is a knight and that he "proved to be the soul of courtesy." This detail is interesting because it sort goes against his "Halfwild" moniker — he is courteous in spite of his half-wildness. Likewise, Jon is also courteous, chivalrous and knightly even, in spite of the stigma attached to being a bastard:

They still think me a turncloak. That was a bitter draft to drink, but Jon could not blame them. He was a bastard, after all. Everyone knew that bastards were wanton and treacherous by nature, having been born of lust and deceit. And he had made as many enemies as friends at Castle Black...Rast, for one. Jon had once threatened to have Ghost rip his throat out unless he stopped tormenting Samwell Tarly, and Rast did not forget things like that. – ASOS, Jon VII

As mentioned in comparison to Ser Byron, Jon behaves courteously towards Gilly, calling her name "pretty", just as Sansa taught him. He also often refers to Val as "my lady" despite her being a proud woman of the Free Folk. Jon also clearly looks up to and wishes to emulate legendary knights to a certain extent, and behaving with courtesy and honour is very much part of that:

They were not little boys when they fought, but knights and mighty heroes. "I'm Prince Aemon the Dragonknight," Jon would call out, and Robb would shout back, "Well, I'm Florian the Fool." Or Robb would say, "I'm the Young Dragon," and Jon would reply, "I'm Ser Ryam Redwyne." – ASOS, Jon XII

Furthermore, Jon has this connection to the Free Folk, also known as the wildlings, having spent a fair amount of time with them:

"The wildling blood is the blood of the First Men, the same blood that flows in the veins of the Starks [...]" – ASOS, Jon I

"Some of your own Sworn Brothers would have me believe that you are half a wildling yourself. Is it true?" – ADWD, Jon IV

Mully cleared his throat. "M'lord? The wildling princess, letting her go, the men may say—"

"—that I am half a wildling myself, a turncloak who means to sell the realm to our raiders, cannibals, and giants." Jon did not need to stare into a fire to know what was being said of him. The worst part was, they were not wrong, not wholly. "Words are wind, and the wind is always blowing at the Wall. Come." – ADWD, Jon VIII

"A wildling. A filthy, murdering wildling." Cregan's hands closed into fists. The gloves that covered them were leather, lined with fur to match the cloak that hung matted and stiff from his broad shoulders. His black wool surcoat was emblazoned with the white sunburst of his house. "I see what you are, Snow. Half a wolf and half a wildling, baseborn get of a traitor and a whore. You would deliver a highborn maid to the bed of some stinking savage. Did you sample her yourself first?" He laughed. "If you mean to kill me, do it and be damned for a kinslayer. Stark and Karstark are one blood."

"My name is Snow." – ADWD, Jon X

I am not the trusting fool you take me for...nor am I half wildling, no matter what you believe. – ADWD, Jon XI

If Stark blood is also essentially wildling blood, and Jon is half Stark on his mother's side...that would make him "Halfwild" in blood as well as in spirit. And like you said, Targon feels very close to Targaryen/Targ-Jon. So this name is there solely as a hint towards Jon's true parentage — half Targaryen and half Stark. But I think you could argue that the "Halfwild" element could allude to Jon's post-resurrection state as well. I do personally like the idea of Feral Jon™.

Ser Roland & Ser Wallace Waynwood

Like the Royces, and Dolorous Edd, the Waynwoods also bear some notable Stark physical traits, as noted by Myranda in this chapter:

“The first Lady Waynwood must have been a mare, I think. How else to explain why all the Waynwood men are horse-faced? [...]"

As we know, looking horse-faced, or in Edd's case, mule-faced, indicates a rather long visage:

Arya took after their lord father. Her hair was a lusterless brown, and her face was long and solemn. Jeyne used to call her Arya Horseface, and neigh whenever she came near. – AGOT, Arya I

[Arya] even looked like Jon, with the long face and brown hair of the Starks, and nothing of their lady mother in her face or her coloring. – AGOT, Sansa I

Interestingly though, Jon is never referred to as being called horse-faced, although we know he has a long Stark face. You'd think that Chett, in the ASOS Prologue would have made that kind of dig, since he says as much about Dolorous Edd? This is why I tentatively believe that, although long-faced, Jon isn't as apparently "homely" as these Stark looking Waynwood brothers:

Ser Roland was the oldest of the three, though no more than five-and-twenty. He was taller and more muscular than Ser Wallace, but both were long-faced and lantern-jawed, with stringy brown hair and pinched noses. Horsefaced and homely, Alayne thought.

That being said, I don't think he's as "handsome" as Ser Waymar Royce, or "beautiful" like Ser Byron. But obviously, he's got something going for him because as GRRM says "all the girls love" him, and you know, he's got a good bod probably and if the Giant's Lance cake is anything to go by, as well as all Tormund's small penis jokes...um, well, maybe he's packing, I don't know! (Don't look at me like that guys...it's GRRM not me!)

But anyway! Like you said, Ser Wallace Waynwood is even of an age with Robb, and therefore also Jon:

Robb would be his age, if he were still alive, she could not help but think, but Robb died a king, and this is just a boy.

There is also a teeny bit of Stark blood, though obviously potent stuff, in the mix with those Waynwoods:

"No," Catelyn agreed. "You must name another heir, until such time as Jeyne gives you a son." She considered a moment. "Your father's father had no siblings, but his father had a sister who married a younger son of Lord Raymar Royce, of the junior branch. They had three daughters, all of whom wed Vale lordlings. A Waynwood and a Corbray, for certain. The youngest...it might have been a Templeton, but..."

"Mother." There was a sharpness in Robb's tone. "You forget. My father had four sons." – ASOS, Catelyn V

Shit — "all of whom wed Vale lordlings" — that's probably where all these Stark looking mother fudgers are coming from. So, all in all, I think there's some strong parallels.

And finally...Ser Harrold Hardyng

But let's not forget this bitch.

And there he stood, Harry the Heir himself; tall, handsome, scowling. “Lady Alayne. May I partner you in this dance?”

She considered for a moment. “No. I don’t think so.”

Prior to Harry, who notably fits into the Ashford pattern of Sansa's suitors, we have all these Jon stand-ins, or references to Jon. We can actually separate them out into their different functions, though there is some overlap with Andrew Tollett:

Those who reference Jon's Starkness/the Stark Look™:

Andrew Tollett

Albar Royce

Roland Waynwood

Wallace Waynwood

Those who reference his position/location at the Night's Watch:

Because in the Alayne chapter prior to this one, Sansa learns that Jon has been made Lord Commander:

[..] Oh, and the Night’s Watch has a boy commander, some bastard son of Eddard Stark’s.” “Jon Snow?” she blurted out, surprised. “Snow? Yes, it would be Snow, I suppose.” – AFFC, Alayne II

So, it is interesting that you then have a number of dance partners connected to members of the Watch:

Ben Coldwater

Andrew Tollett

Morgarth the Merry

Uther Shett

This could be read as foreshadowing for Sansa's future journey north, and specifically to the Wall, where she believes Jon to be.

Those who reference his true/uncertain parentage:

Byron the Beautiful

Shadrich the Mad Mouse

The Three Sunderlands

Targon the Halfwild

All these guys get a dance, but when Harry asks? He is denied. It is only after some A+ dragging by Alayne, and begging by Harry that the latter gets his dance. Yet don't be fooled into thinking this is a win for Harrold:

"Should we ever wed, you'll have to send Saffron back to her father. I’ll be all the spice you’ll want."

He grinned. "I will hold you to that promise, my lady. Until that day, may I wear your favor in the tourney?"

"You may not. It is promised to… another." She was not sure who as yet, but she knew she would find someone.

First off, we have this reminder of the betrothal, but there is a lack of certainty there — "should we wed" — and I would argue that's because...they ain't gonna. Remember all that wedding breakfast imagery, including an umcomfortably phallic lemon (wedding) cake, gift-giving and nod to a bridal cloak? Remember how that was followed by several dances with Jon stand-ins?

"[...] It is promised to… another."

Oh, I wonder who that could be? Honestly...GRRM has very clearly, for those who care to really look, stated someone else's claim here, and it ain't Harry's. In fact, it is the very same person who also evokes Valarr Targaryen in the Ashford pattern.

...it's our boi, Jon Snow.

“Jon Snow?” she blurted out, surprised.

“Snow? Yes, it would be Snow, I suppose.” – AFFC, Alayne II

You "suppose", Myranda? Honey, I'm certain.

#jonsa #jon x sansa #cappy's thoughts #Alayne I Winds #i'm actually so chuffed with myself on the morgarth = more garth #thanks for this ask!#jonsa supremacy honestly

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fedonciadale · 3 years ago

Note

I can't remember exactly what it was about 😅 but I do have a new one now. I had a @rya stan who is now blocked who would jump on even my positive @rya posts keeps going on about Mycah I feel like I read a passage in Arya POV later in the books where Mycah wasn't so important anymore or maybe I just don't see him as important?

Hi there!

Sorry for the delay in answering. Life is a bitch.

You probably meant this passage from ASOS, Ary@ XIII

Sandor moaned, and she rolled onto her side to look at him. She had left his name out too, she realized. Why had she done that? She tried to think of Mycah, but it was hard to remember what he'd looked like. She hadn't known him long. All he ever did was play at swords with me. "The Hound," she whispered, and, "Valar morghulis." Maybe he'd be dead by morning . . .

The situation in which this is happening is interesting to say the least. The Hound is close to dying and Ary@ pities him, but only after a fashion. You probably notice that she calls him Sandor in her head but still whispers "the Hound" when she adds him to her list.

Later in the chapter, when he begs her to kill him, she decided not to give him the gift of mercy - which might tie in to her later giving the gift to someone else and which is completely in tune with her arc about justice, mercy and revenge. Not killing can be revenge as well as Ary@ learns here.

You could argue that the whole incident has become less personal for Ary@ that it is more about the principle than the fact that Mycah was her friend and that is underlined by her not being able to remember his face.

The Hound had killed Mycah. Mycah and more. I bet he's killed a hundred Mycahs. He probably would have killed her too, if not for the ransom.

And that might be a minor step for Ary@. That she decides that the Hound cannot get mercy is not only about Mycah any longer but about all the other people he killed. There is a tiny bit of justice in her revenge.

Thanks for the ask!

#ask box #Ary@#The H0und #sansaissteel

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modern-inheritance · 3 years ago

Text

Modern Inheritance: Sleeping Arrangements/Hotel Pit Stop

(A/N: Some more traveling Eragon and Co. on their way to the Varden post Gil’ead. If it’s not apparent, the mad rush to the Varden mainly starts after ‘Judge You Not.’

There’s a lot of character interaction in this one, and I used it to build a little of the world, the relationships between characters, and dialogue rhythms. Again, this is an older MIC story , so I have changed a decent amount of the lore and tech levels, but I still enjoy this one. )

~~~

“Good evening, ma'am. Are there any rooms available?” Brom smiled at the desk attendant, ignoring her ill concealed disgust at the grime covering himself and the young men behind him. It wasn’t the finest hotel in the world, but it was still cleaner than a roadside motel and had a nice touch of class to it for their higher rates.

It was the only place that still had the vacancy sign on, so Brom had grudgingly agreed to see if they had a room that could accommodate them. Everyone needed a boost in morale, and a night in a bed and a hot shower would do the trick to lift their spirits. It was isolated enough that it would take a long time for any soldiers to reach them if anyone recognized them, and Saphira was well hidden in the small forest nearby. She could respond to any danger and was far enough away to be virtually undetectable.

The clerk sighed and clicked a few keys on the bulky computer in front of her. “It’s one-thirty-two Crowns for a two queen bedroom. Non-smoking.” She glared at the pipe poking out of Brom’s upper pocket. “Two hundred for cleaning fees if you smoke inside.”

“I understand. Do you have a room with a window, by any chance?”

“It’s ten extra Crowns.” The woman all but sneered at him.

Behind him Brom heard Eragon shift, obviously upset about the clerk’s clear plan of pocketing the extra money. Murtagh didn’t react, his eyes constantly scanning the room and marking exits. He surreptitiously tugged the strap holding his holstered rifle a little lower, uneasy in the open lobby.

Brom nodded calmly despite the extra charge. “We’ll take it. Do you have any roller beds so my boys don’t have to split sheet? The kid kicks like a horse.” Grumbling, the woman stood and pulled a folded up rolling cot, complete with a mattress and blankets, from the small room behind the desk. “Thank you.”

Brom traded payment for the keys, extra bedding and toiletries and bid the sour attendant a good night. Murtagh grabbed the cot and the trio moved into the elevator, squeezing to one side to fit the roller bed in along with their packs. As the doors slid shut and they began ascending, Eragon leaned over to Brom. “How’s Arya going to–”

“Shut up. Not here.” Murtagh hissed, keeping his eyes forward. When Eragon shot him an annoyed glare, the older boy subtly gestured to the small camera in the corner. It’s little red light was flashing.

The three exited the elevator in silence, quickly making their way to their room while checking as many exits as possible without arousing suspicion. Whenever he found a camera, Murtagh would point it out to Eragon and Brom as inconspicuously as he could. It would be best to keep out of the security tapes in case the soldiers came across the hotel after they left.

Upon finally reaching the room, Brom locked all the available bolts, chains and electronic locks he could as Murtagh unfolded the cot. Eragon checked the bathroom to make sure everything was in order, tested out the small A/C unit, then sat on the bed with a sigh.

“Now will you explain how Arya is going to get in here?” The boy asked, stretching tiredly. “Don’t tell me she’s going to stay out there with Saphira all night. She deserves a shower more than any of us.”

Murtagh snorted, muttering something along the lines of the elf desperately needing one instead of deserving it, and pushed the cot into the corner so he would have a clear line of sight of both the door and the window from the side. Brom gestured to the aforementioned window, which was parallel to the bed Eragon was sitting on, and grunted, “Open that.”

Perturbed, Eragon did as he was asked and opened the window fully, the metal frame bumping the outer wall. A humid breeze swept in, lending the room the scent of damp leaves and warm night air. The young Rider braced his hands on the sill and leaned out to breathe it in.

A soft series of scuffing noises were all the warning he had before Arya was suddenly staring him in the eyes, comfortably resting her chin on the sill as she crouched with her feet against the outer wall and sure fingers gripping the windowsill. “Well hello.”

Eragon jerked back, startled. They were on the fourth floor. “How the hell did you just–”

“Fun fact, Eragon. On average my species can jump at least ten feet in the air when we put some effort into it.” Eragon backed away from the window as the woman ‘hopped’ into a sitting position on the windowsill and then tumbled backwards into the room. “Don’t gape. I parkoured most of it. It’s forty bloody feet up, even we can’t do that.”

Brom tossed his bag on the bed closest to the door and started pulling off his coat. “Did anyone see you?”

Arya shook her head. “No. If they did, it was at a distance.”

“Good thing we had you switch clothes.” The old man grunted.

Before they had gotten within five leagues of the tiny roadside town, Brom had suggested the elf change out of her fatigues and into something a little less conspicuous.

Arya raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, great. I’ll just change back into blood covered prison clothes. I’ll be totally inconspicuous. Hell, I’ll look like a human, because changing pants definitely changes the shape of my fucking ears. I’m not going to risk appearance magic, not with that damn drug in me still.”

Murtagh scratched his stubbled chin, wanting to get back into civilization only long enough to start hating it again. “I might have an idea.” He stepped up and put his back to hers, careful not to lean his weight against her covered injuries. With a flat hand the young man compared their heights and nodded in confirmation when he found only a miniscule difference between them. “We’re pretty much the same height. I have some old jeans in my bag.”

Meanwhile, Eragon was furiously digging in his backpack, searching for the winter clothes he had first set out on their journey wearing. He didn’t want Murtagh being the only one to come up with something, not in front of Arya. Saphira snorted, teasing him quietly about it, but he ignored her and triumphantly pulled out what he had been looking for. “Here! This could at least cover your ears. It’s not perfect, but it’ll be good in a pinch.”

Arya took the offered article and examined it before chuckling, “Actually, this is an old trick we used to do with Varden when we went drinking. Ah, the benefits of beanies.” And she put it on, pulling the sides of the knit hat down to cover the most obvious marker of her race.

Dressed as she was, Arya looked almost no different from a human woman, if a bit on the angsty side. Dark loose jeans, grey hoodie, black shirt and a dark navy blue beanie tugged low over the tips of her pointed ears certainly gave her a brooding look, especially when leaning against the wall of a hotel and shooting glowering stares at anyone that even glanced at her. As long as no one got close enough to examine her facial structure, she would pass for human.

“Who wants to shower first?” Brom asked, already laying out a fresh shirt and a toothbrush on the bed. “Whoever does will be taking the laundry to the coin washer and gets to guard it once everyone is done.”

When Arya shook her head and Eragon just shrugged, Murtagh stepped up. “Ah, I don’t care. I’ll go first if you don’t want it, Brom.”

“All yours.” The old man gave him one of the extra mini toiletry kits he had bought. “Feel free to shave. There’s a razor in there, fuzz face.” Murtagh grunted, subconsciously passing a hand over his newly grown ragged stubble of a beard, and locked the door to the bathroom behind him. A few moments later the sound of the shower running drifted through the door.

Brom turned to Arya and tossed her the extra bedding he had picked up. “Here. Bandages. Better than nothing. You can use the comforter for padding the floor. If someone comes in to check it would be best if you’re at least out of easy sight.”

“Was planning on sleeping there anyway.” She grabbed the comforter and gestured to the gap between one of the beds and the wall. “Do you mind if take the space next to your bed, Eragon?”

“Yeah, sure, go ahead.” He smiled, happy that the elf had chosen to be closer to him than to Brom. “You can take some of the pillows too, I only need one.” She nodded her thanks and threw her makeshift bedding down, padding over it in oblong, looping circles to settle the lumps before adding one of the pillows. “So, um…you said you used beanies when you were with the Varden to go out drinking. Don’t they know you’re an elf? I mean, they have to, right? Why can’t you just go as is?”

Arya shrugged and sat next to him on the bed. Before answering, she unsheathed a mid-sized combat knife from the side of her boot and set about tearing the sheet Brom had given her into palm wide strips. “They know. And plenty of them are unsettled by us. It took a while to get used to the stares and the occasional…remark, I should say. When something is misunderstood, it is often feared, and going out for a drink in one of Farthen Dur’s crowded bars with our ears clearly on display could turn the atmosphere from fun to awkward in a hot second.” Finished with the sheet, the elf began rolling the makeshift bandages. “So, we started wearing beanies or hoodies to cover our ears. Everyone treated us as just another human unless we did something to tip them off, at which point we would leave.”

Eragon frowned. It bothered him that even the Varden had people who were not fond of other races. 'If they don’t trust elves, then what are they going to think of me and Saphira?’ He subconsciously reached his mind out to Saphira, brushing against her sleeping thoughts to reassure himself. When his mind was calm again and he had confirmed that she was safe, he asked, “Doesn’t it bother you, though? You’re helping them, and you’ve fought for them. Don’t they respect that? Haven’t you at least tried change their minds?”

Arya leveled her gaze with his. “Oh, I tried at first. It led to more trouble than good. Some people already have their minds made up, Eragon. Out of the entire Varden, only a small percentage openly expressed any issue with me and my guards, and I’m sure there are more who keep their thoughts to themselves.” She paused to tear the end of a partially rolled strip lengthwise a few inches with her teeth. “Besides, there are still people in the Varden who treated me as just another Vardenite. People have opinions. I can’t let it affect how I act. I fight for the Varden as a whole, and if it costs me a night of drowning myself in dwarvish vodka, I’m okay with that.”

“Don’t give the boy any ideas.” Brom chastised from his bed. He had found a current newspaper in one of the nightstand drawers and was scanning it for any information regarding the Varden, Urgals, Gil'ead, or Eragon and Saphira. “And no getting him drunk. Unless I’m there. Then, well…we’ll see.”

Arya waved him off. “I know, I know.”

The shower cut off. Moments later Murtagh emerged from the bathroom, tendrils of steam clinging to his body and trailing him as the door opened. “Alright, who’s next?” He was clean-shaven and wore a simple tshirt and a pair of basketball shorts, still rubbing his head of wild, damp hair with a small towel.

“You’re up, kid.” Arya clapped Eragon on the shoulder. He hopped up and grabbed a set of clothes that were decently clean and his portable music player before slipping inside the steam filled room and locking the door behind him. Seconds later the muffled chords of country music could be heard as the shower turned on.

Brom folded the paper in half and used it to swat Arya’s arm. “When are you going to take your turn? You definitely need it. And I’m putting that lightly.”

The elf chuckled. “Last. Trust me, I am going to destroy that shower. The closest I’ve gotten to being clean was splashing water on my face the last few days. It’s been well over six months since I actually showered.

"Fair point.”

Murtagh fell onto his roller bed with a contented sigh. “Now this is nice. Hot water, a place to clean our clothes, a locked door. And a bed!” He lifted his head slightly. “Do they have a radio? For such a price they should have at least put a telly in the room.”

“I doubt it plays anything but official news and propaganda.” Brom grunted, but still leaned over and hit the power button on the small radio clock that graced the bedside table. After a few garbled channels of static and scrolling through the entire range of signals, he finally found one that came in crystal clear.

“–nds the economic report. Here’s Karl Yorgisson with the day’s news.”

Brom snorted. “Told you.”

Arya waved him away from hitting the off switch. “Shush, I want to hear this.”

“Thanks, Jason.” Karl Yorgisson accepted the hand off. “Still no concrete news on the attack at the Gil'ead military base. Although it is confirmed by the base commander that the attack was carried out by Varden forces, it is unclear if any were captured after their defeat or if any escaped.

"We again advise that you keep your eyes peeled for any faces you have seen on watch boards. Remember, not only is there a sizable reward for information, there is also the pride that comes with defending your King and country from the insidious terrorists that lurk in our midst.

"In other news, we have a new addition to our team! Rebecca Jayasdaughter is to be joining us for her first broadcast on–”

Brom hit the switch when no other news concerning their activities was forthcoming. “Well, that’s good. They’re not willing to admit that we slipped past them. That means they can’t inform the general public about us or why they’re searching for us.”

“Attacked Gil'ead my arse.” Murtagh grumbled, eyes closed and arms folded behind his head. “I climbed in through the bloody garbage chute. Could have at least called it a hostile intrusion or sabotage. We don’t need the attention of being labeled dangerous attackers, period.”

“Saphira told me she ripped the entire roof off their state dining hall. They can’t cover up that amount of damage quick enough to pass it off as a single man stealth intrusion.” Arya pointed out. “Besides, they’ll blame it on an elvish raiding party sooner or later. They always do if the town is near Du Weldenvarden.”

Murtagh frowned, confused, yet still refused to open his tired eyes. “Wait…. You’re telling me that the reports of elvish raiding parties…?”

“Never happened?” The elf looked at him with genuine surprise and what appeared to be a touch of insult, aghast that he thought the stories were true. “Of course they never happened! We don’t send out random raiding parties! Glen, Fäolin and I were the only elves to leave the forest since my race retreated there.” She shook her head, shocked that he had actually believed the propaganda. “Honestly! It’s too risky to send little groups out like that to attack directly, what if one of our fighters were captured!”

The young man cracked open one eye and lifted his head to raise an eyebrow at Arya. “Oh? So, you were just visiting Gil'ead and managed to lock yourself in a cell? The men you were with just fell on their guns, is that it?”

“That is different.” Arya snarled. Brom glanced at her, mildly startled by her tone, then turned back to leafing through the phone book and wishing he had brought at least one of his prized lore tomes with him on this harebrained journey. “We weren’t attacking, we were in the fringes of Du Weldenvarden. Someone in the Varden betrayed us. That betrayal led to the death of my fyrn breoal. I’d prefer it if you didn’t make quips about it.”

“I apologize.” Murtagh dipped his head in her direction as best he could, his words truly sincere. Losing friends to the King was something he was very familiar with. “It was in bad taste.”

Arya rubbed her temples and braced her elbows on her knees, shoulders tense. “Apology accepted. I shouldn’t have snapped.”

Murtagh shrugged. “Eh. Natural response.” The room was quiet for a time, the only sound being the rustle of Brom now flipping through the holy book from the desk, the light patter of the shower, Eragon’s off key humming, and country music. Then, “What’s a frin br… fyrn bri….”

“Fyrn breoal. Means war family in the Ancient Language.” Brom answered gruffly. Despite the no smoking designation, he pulled his pipe from his discarded jacket and clamped it firmly in his teeth. “Elves who fight often use it to describe their battle buddies. Only the closest knit groups use the term.” He jerked his chin in Arya’s direction. “If I’m not mistaken, that is.”

The elf nodded, fiddling with one of the remaining bandages. She was weaving it over and between her fingers, trying to keep her hands busy. “Glen and Faölin were my fyrn darmthrelli, my war brothers. We fought for the Varden together for decades.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

Arya’s jaw tightened slightly. “Shit happens in war. We all lose people. We fight even harder in their memory.” She unwound the bandage and then looped the tail around her thumb again, beginning anew.

Murtagh mulled over the new words he had learned, again letting the atmosphere lapse into silence. It wasn’t exactly a comfortable one, a little too heavy to be called that, but it was easy enough to be called content. The three currently inhabiting the room were all comfortable with reflecting on their own thoughts without feeling the urge to shatter the silence. Murtagh respected that of Brom and Arya, and was glad that they, too, seemed to respect his quiet.

’Fyrn breoal. Tornac was my fyrn breoal, then. I guess he would be my war father. Too old to be a war brother.’ Murtagh’s heavy lidded eyes wandered the room. 'I wonder what he would have thought of all this. Eragon, Saphira, Brom and Arya. Agh, Bloody hell, he’d probably lash me silly for agreeing to go to the Varden and trusting strangers like this.’ The thought brought a sleepy grin to his face, and his eyes drifted closed.

“Oi. Don’t sleep yet. You have to do laundry.” Brom snapped when he saw the young man drifting off.

It didn’t even phase Murtagh, who just rolled onto his side and mumbled, “Then wake me up when it’s ready to be done.” and nuzzled his face deeper into his pillow.

It didn’t take long for his breathing to even out and his body to relax. Arya nudged the end of the bed with her foot and shook her head when Murtagh only mumbled and groggily waved her off.

“I can do the laundry. Should probably let the guy sleep.” She offered when Brom made an annoyed noise at the young man’s reaction.

“Can’t have you wandering around out there.” Brom shifted his pipe from one side of his mouth to the other. “If you run into someone who have any education from the army, it could get ugly fast.”

“So I’m pretty much useless at this point in time?” Arya asked dryly. “Dear me, I’m in a room where I can’t leave. Out of one jail and into another.”

“Don’t get all brooding on me, girl. Once your clothes are washed you can change out of Murtagh’s and maybe the angst will wear off.” The elf chuckled at that, and Brom flipped the holy book closed with a definitive snap. “Bloody hell, why is Eragon taking so long?”

The old man stood and went over to the bathroom door. He paused, glanced at Arya, and a bit of a mischievous glint came to his eyes. The elf raised an eyebrow. “Oh stars, I know that look. What are you planning?”

Brom only grinned and shoved his pipe into his pocket before raising his fist and banging on the door, yelling, “Eragon! What the HELL is taking so long?! You had better not be doing what I think you’re doing in there!”

There was the distinct sound of someone nearly falling on their ass in a wet shower and sputtered curses. “I’ll be done in a minute!”

“Cold water works wonders, boy! Hurry up!”

As Brom returned to his bed Arya swatted him on the arm. “He’s a teenage boy. He needs his alone time.” She, too, was trying to hold back laughter. “Better he do that in there than when he thinks we’re all asleep.”

“He should have thought of ’alone time’ before he left Carvahall.” Brom shot back, but was still grinning from ear to ear. “And trust me, you don’t get alone time with a bonded dragon in your mind.”

“Poor Saphira!”

The shower squeaked off and Eragon came out, his face and the tips of his tapering ears bright red. He was wearing a pair of long pajama pants and a loose t-shirt with the sleeves cut off.

“You could have just told me to hurry up.” The boy grumbled, shooting Brom a moody glare.

Brom nodded with a chuckle. “Aye, but then you wouldn’t have actually gotten out right when I asked.”

“Well, I wasn't–” His face went an even deeper shade of red when he realized Arya was still awake and watching him, bemused. “I wouldn’t do that with people in the next…. I just like hot showers, okay?” Pink blotches started appearing on his neck, collarbones and shoulders as he blushed furiously.

“Hey, I’m not saying anything.” Arya put her hands up. “What you do in the shower is none of my business.”

Brom grabbed his fresh clothes and brushed by the younger Rider. “You can sleep now, boy. No watches tonight. Put your dirty clothes next to Murtagh’s.”

Still red, Eragon placed his travel clothes next to the small pile Murtagh had made and sat on his bed. Arya was stretched out on the other side, leaning against the headboard, and was flipping through the holy book Brom had abandoned. She didn’t seem to be reading it, just turning the pages to give herself something to do.

“You alright with me here until Brom gets out? I can move to his bed if you want me to.” She asked as the Eragon wiggled underneath the tightly tucked sheets and blanket.

“No, it’s okay. I don’t mind.” He attempted to adjust the pile of pillows behind his head and, giving up, pulled one out and tossed it at Murtagh. The sleeping man grumbled, kicking the pillow off his legs, and raised a middle finger in Eragon’s general direction. “If you…um…if you don’t want to sleep on the floor we could…you know, split sheet.”

Eragon’s ears flared a deep maroon as Arya let out a soft laugh. “Thanks, but I need to be out of general sight if anyone comes in. People would wonder why three people checked in and suddenly a fourth person appeared. Bed blocks the view of my little hideout.” The Rider mumbled a ’good point’ and tried to ignore the glimmer of amusement in the elf’s dark eyes. “Is Saphira doing alright out there?”

“Yeah. She’s asleep.” Glad for the change in topic, Eragon busied himself with plugging his music player into the complimentary charger on the bedside table and wrapped his headphones around it carefully. “I think she’s a little glad for the time alone. She grew up in the woods near my farm after she hatched, and since we started traveling with Murtagh I think she’s been missing the solitude, not to mention a chance to sleep for a full night.”

A slight smile tilted the corners of Arya’s lips as she turned another page. “I think we’ve all earned a little rest.”

Eragon nodded in agreement, punctuated by a wide yawn. The hot shower had made him drowsy on top of being bone tired. Coupled with the soft pillows, warm blankets, Saphira’s sleeping thoughts and the safety of the walls around him, the boy found himself already drifting off. “Yeah.” He murmured, eyelids drooping closed. “G'night, Arya.”

“Good night, kid.”

As Eragon dropped off, the elf gently settled the holy book on the bed and slipped down onto her makeshift mattress to begin preparing for her own turn in the shower. She released her braid and combed out the snarls in her hair, wiped off what bits of blood and grime that she could with a scrap of shredded sheet, and put her dirty fatigues on the pile near Murtagh’s bed. When Brom stepped out, beard and mustache neatly clipped, he found Arya waiting quietly next to the door with the last package of toiletries and a fresh towel in her lap.

“Take as long as you want.” Brom grunted, jerking his head towards the shower and flinging out a few water droplets from his still damp hair. “I’m sending Murtagh to do laundry and then heading to sleep.”

“I’ll try not to destroy the entire hotel’s hot water supply.” Arya grinned wryly as she stood. “I’ll wake you if anything concerning happens.”

~~~

Arya shut off the water and watched the last dregs slide down the drain. It had taken ten minutes of soap, scrubbing and hot water to get the water flowing off her body to run lighter than dark grey. Another ten minutes saw it finally run clear, and five minutes under shockingly cold spray soothed the vicious burning in her healing wounds and scars. She shook herself and wrung out her hair as much as she could before stepping out and grabbing a towel.

A few brief minutes later she was again clothed in her borrowed jeans and her sports bra, and she stepped out of the bathroom. A quick check confirmed that Murtagh had not yet returned. He slipped inside just as the elf was tying off the last strip of bandage around her leg, the rest of the shredded sheet already wrapped around her torso.

“Heads up.” Murtagh grunted, tossing Arya her fatigues. She muttered her thanks, feeling the effects of the hot shower sinking in. “Good night, Arya.”

“'Night, Murtagh.” The young man hit the last light before tumbling onto his roller bed with the 'whumph’ of a relieved sigh. After a quick last look around the room to ensure everyone was accounted for, Arya followed suit.

No one dreamed. They just slept.

~~~

Eragon tore the covers off as a shrill alarm stabbed into his ears. For a confusing moment lights and sound blinded him. He threw his mind out to Saphira to see through her eyes, only to remember that she was a league away, hiding in the woods. He felt her wake and surge to her feet, his panic alarming her.

A swarm of curses in various languages assaulted him as he finally began to register his surroundings.

They were still in the hotel room, but the standard fire alarm on the wall was alive with flashing lights and mind shattering sound. To his right Brom was shoving the small pile of his clean clothes in his travel bag, swearing in a mildly familiar, old tribal dialect of the Spine. To Eragon’s left, Arya was already zipping Murtagh’s borrowed jacket up to cover the makeshift bandages on her torso, not even bothering with a shirt as she threw her fatigues onto her unzipped combat jacket. She zipped it, wrapped it up and clamped a spare blade harness strap around it before slinging the bundle across her back by the tied together sleeves and tore the window open. Eragon swore he heard her hissing choice words in the Ancient Language, but the intonation and inflections were markedly different.

Of all of them, Murtagh appeared to be the least disturbed by the noise. He sat lacing up his boots, already clothed in his travel gear, and his previously covered rifle was laid out on the bed within arms reach. As he picked the weapon up and chambered the first round Eragon realized the man was swearing in a steady monotone, never once reusing a word. When he seemed to run out of words in the common human language, he switched to what Eragon gathered was a dialect from his local hometown. His vocabulary was impressive to say the least.

“What the bloody hell is happening?” Eragon asked, snatching up his gear. He felt the distinct tickle of Saphira using his ears to hear the answer, her body tensing as she prepared to race to his aid.

Brom shoved the clip on the top of his bag together with a hurried snap. “From what I can gather, the desk clerk told her replacement about us and they checked the front tapes. They recognized at least one of us and they’re setting up the local garrison outside the doors as we speak.”

Murtagh’s muttered swearing filled the brief gap in conversation. “Faigh muin, deoghail am fallus bhàrr duine mharbh siadha tiadhan, cao–”

Eragon ignored him and haphazardly threw his clothing into his backpack, yanking on the zipper when it refused to close all the way. “What’s the alarm about then?” He checked that Zar'roc’s hilt and pommel were still wrapped, concealing the gem and shining grip, then strapped the blade on his hip.

“They’re trying to lure us to the emergency exit.” Brom growled. “Tell Saphira to keep out of sight unless absolutely necessary. We still have a chance get out of here without letting them see her.”

'There won’t be anything to see if I eat them all.’ The dragon hissed in response. Eragon’s jaw twinged as she snapped her teeth in frustration. 'I’ll decide when to be seen. Just hurry up. I can smell a reinforcement company approaching.’

Eragon relayed her message. The speed of Murtagh’s swearing increased while even Brom let out a particularly foul word. “How are we getting out?” The younger Rider asked. “We can’t go out and we can’t go up without having Saphira try to fly us out, and she can’t carry four people.”

“Theta Rescue.” Arya grabbed Eragon’s backpack before he could pick it up. “Or as I like to call it unofficially, 'The Reversed Cliché.’” She threw his bag out the window, ignoring his cry of confusion.

“Only if you’re up for it.” Brom threw his bag to her, and she repeated the process. Murtagh calmly handed his over with a polite nod and a swear that Arya must have recognized, for she snapped back at him with a word of her own. “It’s quite a drop, even for you. The added weight won’t help.”

“No alternative I can see. Unless you want to tie together bed sheets.” Her head cocked to the side. “They’re sweeping the floor below us.”

“Theta it is.” Brom set himself up behind the wall near the door. “Lightest first, heaviest last. Eragon, Murtagh, you both are going to do exactly as Arya says, when she says you do it. Order is Eragon, me, then you Murtagh.”

“Wait, what’s happening?” Eragon asked as Arya grabbed his arm and pulled him to the window. “What are you doing?”

Arya flashed him a grin that didn’t reach her now flinty eyes. “Don’t worry. All you have to do is trust me. And don’t wiggle.”

“Wigg–” Eragon was cut off as the elf ducked and suddenly swept him off his feet in a fireman’s carry. He only had time to spit out a quick “Oh Sweet Sara–” before Arya jumped out the window.

~~~

Half an hour later found the group galloping past the stand of trees where Saphira had hidden. The dragon leapt over their heads and snapped her wings out, startling the horses. 'On the road again, Little One?’ She asked, gaining altitude to circle above them.

'On the road again.’ Eragon affirmed, letting their thoughts mingle and intertwine in a way that the distance had previously made difficult. He felt her joy of flight and relief at being reunited, but also her displeasure. The close call had further confirmed her theory that he was a magnet for trouble. 'I’m going to hear about this later, aren’t I?’

The dragon chuffed, the odd sound resonating through their mental link. 'You’re just lucky Brom has a good head on his shoulders.’ With that she drove her wings down, shooting up another hundred feet. 'You will fly with me today.’

'Yes ma'am.’ Eragon smiled and Saphira crowed her jubilation to the sky.

Dust billowed from the horse’s hooves as they continued on their journey. It was good to be on the road again.

#Modern Inheritance #inheritance cycle #eragon #modern inheritance stories #the cyclists #Ket's Modern Inheritance Cycle #saphira #Brom #arya #murtagh #modern inheritance lore #hotel pit stop #sleeping arrangements #older mic stories #like from the dA days #everyone gets a very much needed shower #also introducing Common Elvish and other regional dialects!

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aegonbeingfakeisracist · 4 years ago

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You going to get annoyed by me, but I saw your post about Lysa, and it made me so happy! I sympathize so much with Lysa, and it's so sad how they paint her as the "simple" villain when there's so much more to it than that. I was wondering if you would expand on your thoughts about her, as well as the Lysa vs. Cat dynamic. Sorry for bothering you more!

Don’t apologize, you’re not bothering me at all!

I guess the main thought I have about Lysa is that it’s super annoying that people attribute her every decision to Littlefinger. Literally every time I praise any of her actions even a little bit - not her motivations! Just her results and whether or not they had a positive impact! - random people I’ve never spoken to in my life jump in to be all, “nooooooo, you’re so wrong, she’s stupid and selfish and only did what she did because Littlefinger told her to”. I just ignore them, because this is a Martell blog anyway, but I’m just...yeah, he may have influenced her, but she is not a marionette. He is not the puppetmaster, controlling her every decision. That much is obvious by how she met Littlefinger at the Fingers and insisted they get married immediately. There’s only so much influence he has. Littlefinger didn’t tell her to flirt with the Vale lords to prevent them from teaming up against her. He can’t have - he was not there to tell her anything. And it’s not at all a logical assumption that he just sent her all the instructions by raven, or planned everything for her the last time they saw each other. The logical assumption is that he influenced her, but she executed everything through her own decisions. She was the one that did the actual work, and dismissing that for the sake of crediting everything to Littlefinger is foolish.

The Lysa Cat dynamic is such an interesting one. For pretty much all their lives, Cat had literally everything Lysa wanted. She was the apple of their father’s eye, raised as heir until Edmure’s birth. Littlefinger was in love with her. Despite that, they were quite close as girls. Lysa looked up to her elder sister and was excited at the thought that they were pregnant and would have children the same age who would grow up to be best friends. But it would be almost impossible to not be jealous in that situation, and Lysa’s very understandable jealousy festered over the years because even into adulthood, it still was as if Cat had everything. Lysa had a cold marriage with a man old enough to be her father while Cat grew to love her husband. Cat had five healthy children and Lysa had five miscarriages (plus more stillbirths) before having a living son. Then the uncle that’s supposedly on her side acts like she’s irresponsible and stupid for not doing what he wants her to do, before straight up abandoning her for Cat.

And then you think about Arya and Sansa, and Arya’s very different kind of jealousy - one that began differently as well as developed differently. Arya’s jealousy is not like Lysa’s, because Arya and Sansa are outwardly very different people. Arya doesn’t have Sansa’s skills, but nor does Sansa have Arya’s. Arya is Arya, and she may long to fit in as Sansa can, but she’s different enough from Sansa to not feel like a lesser version of Sansa. Furthermore, circumstances are not such that Arya’s jealousy becomes corrosive - it’s not as if Arya is watching Sansa get everything Arya herself wants while Arya is suffering. Their father is killed when they are both very young. They both suffer, and Arya can see that clearly. It’s why she stops herself from wishing King’s Landing would wash away and instead wishes for home - because Sansa is in King’s Landing, and Arya does not wish any harm on her sister. That’s a very sharp contrast to how Lysa and Cat were well into adulthood, with Lysa experiencing years of suffering, before anything seemed to go wrong for Cat.

I’ve mentioned how I think Sansa and Arya are more alike than different, and despite their very different current environments and lessons, they are becoming even more similar, and even more capable of respecting each other’s skills. Neither of them is a lesser version of the other now and neither of them will become a lesser version of the other as they develop similar traits to what each other had in the beginning (I have more thoughts on this, but they’ll make people mad at me, so I will keep my mouth shut). Compare Lysa and Cat. It is so important that the Tully sisters look similar, because it embodies the conflict that exists there. Lysa’s jealousy stems from the sense that she’s seen as a lesser version of Cat. And that’s not just her insecurities talking - the people around her genuinely see her that way. Her father and uncle openly favoured Cat. Littlefinger only had eyes for Cat. Even totally random people like teenage Jaime thought Cat was “more interesting”. How exactly was Lysa supposed to measure up to the older sister everyone sees as smarter and prettier? And it’s especially easy to see where the bitterness at that perception comes from when you think about how young Lysa was when all this started to go down.

Brynden thinks of Lysa as flighty and foolish, comparing her negatively to Cat just as people always do, but it seems to me more like she’d had to face how horrible the world is long before Cat did, unlike is the case with Sansa and Arya, who face that at the same time. When Cat sees all the young knights with no experience with war, she thinks of how they will soon have to face reality, like her generation did during Robert’s Rebellion. And yes, that was a pivotal moment in Cat’s life. But it was also a much more distant way to learn that lesson than Lysa got. When Cat had to face much more personal losses, she was old enough to deal with it. Lysa was, what, sixteen when the person she should have been able to trust the most forced an unwanted medical procedure on her? (Sidebar: The Cat Lysa example is a big part of why all the talk about how Aegon would be a bad king because he’s been sheltered makes me want to scream. You know who wasn’t sheltered? Lysa. You know what that resulted in? Lifelong trauma and a severely damaged mental state. You know who was sheltered? Catelyn. You know what that resulted in? Her growing up to be a well adjusted adult. I think Lysa was much more competent than she gets credit for, but that doesn’t matter here - the point is that Catelyn was much more emotionally healthy and thus better equipped to make decisions.) By the time that Cat has experienced extremely personal suffering, at the beginning of the War of the Five Kings, she’s much older and more emotionally stable. Even then, she’s unprepared to really deal with it, because there’s no way to prepare. So it feels so unfair to blame Lysa for a lot of what she gets blamed for, and unfair to give her so little credit for when things go right. Was she influenced by Littlefinger? Yeah. Was her motivation driven by the desire to protect her son, not her greater responsibilities as the Lady of the Vale? Undoubtedly. But she still did keep her smallfolk safe very successfully.

Then we have to talk about a deeper issue here that actually makes Lysa a villain - the fact Littlefinger was incapable of consenting when they had sex. He was so drunk he had to be carried to bed. There’s no way to excuse Lysa’s behaviour there at all. The problem is...none of the horrible things she goes through is in any way connected to that at all. I’m not going to go over the whole karma topic again, I have a whole post on that, but it’s somewhat relevant here. Because Lysa’s suffering is about her having sex, her not wanting to get involved in someone else’s war, her not being Cat. Not at all about her raping Littlefinger. And that’s gross. It’s similar to how Cersei has done any number of terrible things, but her walk of shame was still horrible.

#A Song of Ice and Fire #Lysa Tully #hchollym #replies

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gondorosi · 5 years ago

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The gradual separation of show!Jon from book!Jon - Part II

Magic

The showrunners deciding that magic is an unimportant part of the saga and to be relegated to the background is utter horseshit. There’s a bloody REASON direwolves and dragons reappeared in the world when they did, more or less at the same time. There’s a fucking reason why in Martin’s version Dany’s fireproof nature was a one-time thing, the dormant magic in her reawakening as needed BECAUSE dragons needed to be brought back into the world. Dany, Jon and Bran are the three most magic-sensitive characters in the whole story - and only one of them have anything to do with it in a significant manner (though significant might be stretching it). With Dany, her magical nature is only sporadically referred to (the dragons are the be all and end all) and Jon has nothing.

Show!Jon is a mortal man on every level, without a drop of magic in him. Book!Jon is no Bran, but there are three fundamental factors which show how deeply he is connected to the land.

Ghost: Removing Ghost's importance to Jon is akin to removing part of his soul. He isn't just 'big, white fluffy doggo'. Ghost is part of him, his familiar. Ghost is the physical personification of the magic running in Jon's blood, the proof of the Old Gods awareness running through Stark children's veins. Direwolves have a deeper, subtler and less apparent magic than dragons, but no less potent, and no less essential to Jon than her dragons are to Dany. Out of all the Stark siblings, Jon’s connection with Ghost and Bran’s connection with Summer seem to be the most symbiotic. All the siblings have strong bonds with their direwolves, molded to their own personality - Arya’s connection with Nymeria persists even across the sea in Essos, all legends of Robb in battle are accompanied by legends of Grey Wind and poor Rickon becomes so enmeshed in Shaggydog’s mind that there’s little to distinguish between boy and beast. However, perhaps due to the nature of their POVs and story arcs, none of the Starks save Bran and Jon have their journeys so closely aligned to their wolves. Which is why it’s nigh impossible to even consider Jon’s story moving forward without Ghost, especially post resurrection. The show omitted the obvious implication that Jon warged into Ghost before he died, had no role for him in the BoB, completely erased him in S7 and relegated him to a damn stray in S8. On the other hand, the show AMPED up the Dragon Queen part of Dany to the detriment of all other aspects of her character.

Warging: In a universe where Martin has tried his best to weave in strong magic with actual medieval politics, concentrating all Northern magic into one single character (whose surface they barely scratched) is utterly lazy storytelling. Jon's warging abilities are mighty and second perhaps only to Bran, though I hold the belief Arya is as powerful a warg. But unlike both of them, Jon seems to actively resist exploring his warging possibilities. Some of the resistance may be explained by his environment - with both the NW and the Freefolk considering warging to be something of a ‘black’ art or dark magic. Sure, the Free Folk are more open about it, with Varamyr envying Jon’s gift with Ghost in his thoughts:

“He had known what Snow was the moment he saw that great white direwolf stalking silent at his side. One skinchanger can always sense another. Mance should have let me take the direwolf. There would be a second life worthy of a king. He could have done it, he did not doubt. The gift was strong in Snow, but the youth was untaught, still fighting his nature when he should have gloried in it.”

The show makes NO mention of it. Jon being considered a warg is a major reason behind half the NW hating and fearing him. I don’t remember the show ever bringing up the fact that Jon was feared - they seemed to make Thorne and Slynt’s animosity out of sheer spite and disgust at his bastardy.

The Lord Commander's Raven: This is a favourite obsession of mine. Old Mormont’s raven pops out at Jon at seemingly random moments, but for the reader bursting with conspiracy theories, the raven is just another nod to the fact that Jon has a far greater role to play in the story than is visible to the eye. There's a popular theory that Bloodraven wargs him from time to time, since Jon is the secondary piece on his chessboard. The raven has come to Jon’s aid atleast twice that I can remember:

When Mormont is attacked by the wight:

Jon tried to shout, but his voice was gone. Staggering to his feet, he kicked the arm away and snatched the lamp from the Old Bear's fingers. The flame flickered and almost died. "Burn!" the raven cawed. "Burn, burn, burn!"

Spinning, Jon saw the drapes he'd ripped from the window. He flung the lamp into the puddled cloth with both hands.

During the election for Lord Commander when Mormont’s raven flying to his shoulder is used as a sign by Sam to argue for Mormont’s approval of Jon as the choice.

Bastardy

Jon's entire sense of self is centered around two things:

Ned Stark is his father

He's a bastard

His entire character arc is trying live up to one of those and distance himself from the connotations of the other. His bastardy is the formative lodestone of his character and moral compass but in the EXACT opposite of how Catelyn and Westerosi society as a whole expect it to be.

However, there's a twist to that. Jon's inner desire is EXACTLY what Catelyn feared. He DOES want to be Lord of Winterfell. He DOES harbour resentment that Robb (seemingly) has everything handed to him while the best Jon can hope for is to die at his post, unknown and unsung. He DOES want glory and power and to exact some kind of revenge on a society which deemed him vile and detestable for no fault of his. All the elements for him to become the Starks' own Daemon Blackfyre is already present.

But there's one difference - Ned Stark is no Aegon the Unworthy. Even more than all of the above heart's desires, Jon wants to be like his father. He wants to do what is right. He wants his father to be proud of him. He wants to be nothing like the greedy, vengeful and lusty creature he's always been told he is. He wants to help people and stand up for the weak because that's who he is. At the very heart of it, he just wants to be loved by Ned as much as his trueborn sons. And thus he takes Tyrion's words to heart and wears his bastardy like impenetrable armour.

In show!Jon, ALL of this inner struggle is lost. Jon's bastardy is rarely affixed other than as a side. Show!Jon is a 'good' man. Yes, undoubtedly. But what makes book!Jon a great man is that he masters his baser desires to focus on what's more important. THAT'S what Jeor, Mance and Stannis all saw in him. That's why the Free Folk follow him. That's why half the NW will die for him (yes I know the other half will kill him).

When you have spent most of the show without anywhere referencing how vital the armour of bastardy, and being Ned Stark’s son is to Jon's psyche and sense of self, even the best directors will not be able to depict WHY the news of his parentage will have ripped out the ground from under him. Dany's quest for the throne is out there glaring at us thus atleast on paper making sense that having her undeniable right threatened will rattle her (I personally hate hate HATE the creative decision that Dany's immediate reaction to find out Jon's a Targaryen will be paranoia and concern for HER throne but I digress).

Intelligence, ability and cunning

Up until S4 and most of S5, show!Jon and book!Jon exhibited similar levels of intelligence and cunning. One of my favourite scenes is Sam trying to stop Jon from marching into Mance's camp to try and assassinate him. Jon gets in his face with his frustration and despair boiling and asks if he has any better ideas. At this point he's done a superb job commanding the defence of Castle Black but has also just lost Ygritte, Pyp and Grenn all in one night, a significant portion of the meagre Castle Black forces and is fully aware that they cannot survive another charge. He's beyond desperate and aware that his efforts are likely suicidal but he can't just retreat, lick his wounds and do nothing.

The show labours under the popular delusion that truly good guys can't be really smart, as being smart means preserving yourself and truly good guys will always jump into danger first to protect other people. Politics is bad so if you're a good strategist then you can't be a good person.

Both book and show characterizations of Jon have been criticized for being examples of the ‘Chosen One’ the ‘reluctant hero’ who turns out to be the right man for the job, and for painting ambition and the quest for power as negative pursuits. In the book however, Jon’s ambitions never really had a chance to form. He’s prideful enough in his abilities to believe he would be an immediate select into the elite Ranger ranks and is devastated when that doesn’t work out. By the time he’s come to terms with the fact that being Mormont’s steward means being groomed for command, the truth of the White Walkers is in front of him and that becomes his sole consideration.

To many readers, Jon’s election to Lord Commander was ‘contrived’ though I do believe Sam played the long political game as he believed his friend being in a position of power would lead to an easier path for him. However, Jon doesn’t crumple under the weight of the responsibility - his actions as Lord Commander are revolutionary enough to completely destabilize his support. The show entirely omits all the strategic parts of his negotiations with both Stannis and the Freefolk. Unlike show!Jon, book!Jon does not allow the Freefolk through the Wall only on the account of goodwill and the fear of a common enemy. He takes their children hostage to ensure compliance. He negotiates with the Iron Bank for a loan to stave off starvation come winter. He repopulates the Gift with Free Folk. He shelters, counsels and aids Stannis. He addresses almost every logistical and material issue he can think except for the most fundamental - his people.

On the other hand, there’s no strategic and political angle to Show!Jon in S6 and S7, instead being posited only as warrior extraordinaire.

'The greatest swordsman in the North' - but too naive to not keep the sister who tricked him almost to his death at arm's length. Brave, loyal and courageous beyond belief - but completely befuddled by politicking. Immediately trusting a sister he’s never been close to and who has been Littlefinger’s pupil for a considerable time.

Book!Jon's abilities as a leader are sorely underappreciated, especially considering that his tenure as Lord Commander saw the status quo of almost every aspect of NW life upended. The previous LC is killed in a mutiny. The Wildling army launch an attack. The Others finally rise. A King/King Claimant FINALLY takes the NW's warnings seriously. The Wildlings are brought south of the Wall.

Despite being a new beginning for all recruits, the Night's Watch is the one order in Westeros whose traditions and rules have not changed in millennia. Understaffed, under-resourced and facing a threat the likes of which people would struggle to comprehend, Jon does the best he can. His major mistake is one most young leaders make, and that is assume all of those under automatically understand his reasons for doing what he does.

Relationships

Brother:

If there's one role Jon takes more seriously than 'Ned Stark's son, it's that of brother. Book!Jon is pretty much the pinnacle of brotherly love - Robb's right hand, Arya's champion and dutiful protector to both Bran and Rickon. There's a subtle tragedy in this too - despite how much his siblings love him, all of them, including Arya, have othered him. He's brother, but only half. Snow, not a Stark. The last in the list. 'The last brother left to me' - as felt by both Robb and Sansa.

Book!Jon and Show!Jon are both shown to be loving, dutiful brothers but once again the show is incapable of portraying more than one character at a time in a certain way. Thus all of Jon's brotherly love is concentrated on Sansa, the sibling he was least close to. Show!Jon never mentions Robb after his death mentions Arya not at all when book!Jon never stops thinking about the two of them.

Maybe, maybe if the show had bothered to flesh out Jon Snow's emotional attachment to his home and siblings, his dilemma between his family and Dany wouldn't have been so shoddy.

Friend:

Book!Jon, despite his aloof demeanour attracts fast friends. His staunchest supporters in the NW are those who he befriended when he first stepped within the gates. He's the only one to ever have stood up for many of them. And it's his NW friends who do become truly brothers, as they see and stand beside him during his rise to leadership.

Show!Jon is no different - he's got his loyal friends but there was no apparent discord after him being elected LC. Which is surprising considering that this is the moment that Jon effectively decides to ‘Kill the boy.’ The Gilly baby switch storyline is completely done away with, probably because it is the one decision that very clearly paints Jon as grey. The book Sam struggles to understand this decision - in his mind his best friend would never have done that. Maester Aemon is the one who sets him straight - Jon is no longer just a brother of the Watch, he’s the Lord Commander now. He can no longer be taking decisions just as Sam’s friend.

The show never really dwelt on the chasm Jon’s position as a leader would have created with his brothers who till them were his equals. Book!Jon knowingly starts distancing himself and this is a flaw that comes back to stab him in the chest - again a misstep in one raised to leadership at a young age.

Lover:

This part will be a bit of a cop-out since at this point the only common love interest between the books and the show is Ygritte. The show axed Val, who’s one of my favourite secondary characters and my main preference for a Jon pairing pre-Dany. And of course, there’s far too much plot to cover before Jon and Dany even meet in the book (if they’re ever finished).

There are factions of the fandom who don’t think the Jon and Dany romance in S7 was set up convincingly. Admittedly that’s going to be hard for me to judge fairly as I’ve been in the Jonerys camp ever since ADWD made it clear how Jon was growing as a leader and as a magical touchstone in direct parallels to Dany. It definitely helped that Kit’s portrayal of Jon had FINALLY started to appeal to me once The Watchers of the Wall aired. I’d been one of the many fans who had been waiting for these two to meet on the show - and though I personally found the Jon-Dany relationship progression to be one of the few good things about S7, I can perhaps get why many neutral fans (i.e not commited to any rival ships for either Jon or Dany) think its out of character for them to be so involved so soon.

There are plenty of popular assumptions perpetuated by the show which have no backup in the original material - one of them is ‘dumb, lovable idiot’ Jon paired with the ‘awkward and oblivious as fuck with women’ Jon. Now, I’ll not deny that the latter portrayal works QUITE well with show!Jon (Kit’s face is the perfect cast for this characterization) but I just don’t see it working with book!Jon. The boy isn’t seeking out women but its not like he’s not around them. Alys Karstark was quite obviously taken with him, and I doubt Jon missed it, but there were far greater things of import to consider for both of them - I saw no awkwardness in the text. Jon dislikes Selyse and manages to be both cordial and deferential as required. Melisandre makes no secret of her fascination with him - there’s no bumbling awkwardness there either. And Val - he’s quite smitten and there’s some awkwardness there, sure but its hardly the bumbling variety.

As for Dany - considering that at this point the 7 seasons of the show is all we will ever have, I somehow think the softer show!Jon makes a much better pairing with the more hardened show!Dany. Its as if certain aspects of their personalities were flipped in the show - book!Dany is definitely much softer and gentle without her power and strength being diminished, whereas book!Jon is far more calculated and ruthless without compromising on his honour and integrity.

#jon snow #book!jon #show!jon #ASoIaF #game of thrones #nights watch #asoiaf val #jonerys

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weirdponytail · 4 years ago

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Modern Inheritance: Sleeping Arrangements/Hotel Pit Stop

(A/N: Some more traveling Eragon and Co. on their way to the Varden post Gil’ead. If it’s not apparent, the mad rush to the Varden mainly starts after ‘Judge You Not.’

There’s a lot of character interaction in this one, and I used it to build a little of the world, the relationships between characters, and dialogue rhythms. Again, this is an older MIC story {most of the stories posted en masse today are my earlier stories that I’ve built upon}, so I have changed a bit of the lore and tech levels, but I still enjoy the story.)

~~~

"Good evening, ma'am. Are there any rooms available?" Brom smiled at the desk attendant, ignoring her ill concealed disgust at the grime covering himself and the young men behind him. It wasn't the finest hotel in the world, but it was still cleaner than a roadside motel and had a nice touch of class to it for their higher rates.

The clerk sighed and clicked a few keys on the bulky computer in front of her. "It's one-thirty-two Crowns for a two queen bedroom. Non-smoking." She glared at the pipe poking out of Brom's upper pocket. "Two hundred for cleaning fees if you smoke inside."

"I understand. Do you have a room with a window, by any chance?"

"It's ten extra Crowns." The woman all but sneered at him.

Behind him Brom heard Eragon shift, obviously upset about the clerk's clear plan of pocketing the extra money. Murtagh didn't react, his eyes constantly scanning the room and marking exits. He surreptitiously tugged the strap holding his holstered rifle a little lower, uneasy in the open lobby.

Brom nodded calmly despite the extra charge. "We'll take it. Do you have any roller beds so my boys don't have to split sheet? The kid kicks like a horse." Grumbling, the woman stood and pulled a folded up rolling cot, complete with a mattress and blankets, from the small room behind the desk. "Thank you."

"Shut up. Not here." Murtagh hissed, keeping his eyes forward. When Eragon shot him an annoyed glare, the older boy subtly gestured to the small camera in the corner. It's little red light was flashing.

"Now will you explain how Arya is going to get in here?" The boy asked, stretching tiredly. "Don't tell me she's going to stay out there with Saphira all night. She deserves a shower more than any of us."

Eragon jerked back, startled. They were on the fourth floor. "How the hell did you just–"

"Fun fact, Eragon. On average my species can jump at least ten feet in the air when we put some effort into it." Eragon backed away from the window as the woman 'hopped' into a sitting position on the windowsill and then tumbled backwards into the room. "Don't gape. I parkoured most of it. It's forty bloody feet up, even we can't do that."

Brom tossed his bag on the bed closest to the door and started pulling off his coat. "Did anyone see you?"

Arya shook her head. "No. If they did, it was at a distance."

"Good thing we had you switch clothes." The old man grunted.

Before they had gotten within five leagues of the tiny roadside town, Brom had suggested the elf change out of her fatigues and into something a little less conspicuous.

Arya raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, great. I'll just change back into blood covered prison clothes. I'll be totally inconspicuous. Hell, I'll look like a human, because changing pants definitely changes the shape of my fucking ears. I’m not going to risk appearance magic, not with that damn drug in me still."

Murtagh scratched his stubbled chin, wanting to get back into civilization only long enough to start hating it again. "I might have an idea." He stepped up and put his back to hers, careful not to lean his weight against her covered injuries. With a flat hand the young man compared their heights and nodded in confirmation when he found only a miniscule difference between them. "We're pretty much the same height. I have some old jeans in my bag."

Meanwhile, Eragon was furiously digging in his backpack, searching for the winter clothes he had first set out on their journey wearing. He didn't want Murtagh being the only one to come up with something, not in front of Arya. Saphira snorted, teasing him quietly about it, but he ignored her and triumphantly pulled out what he had been looking for. "Here! This could at least cover your ears. It's not perfect, but it'll be good in a pinch."

Arya took the offered article and examined it before chuckling, "Actually, this is an old trick we used to do with Varden when we went drinking. Ah, the benefits of beanies." And she put it on, pulling the sides of the knit hat down to cover the most obvious marker of her race.

"Who wants to shower first?" Brom asked, already laying out a fresh shirt and a toothbrush on the bed. "Whoever does will be taking the laundry to the coin washer and gets to guard it once everyone is done."

When Arya shook her head and Eragon just shrugged, Murtagh stepped up. "Ah, I don't care. I'll go first if you don't want it, Brom."

"All yours." The old man gave him one of the extra mini toiletry kits he had bought. "Feel free to shave. There's a razor in there, fuzz face." Murtagh grunted, subconsciously passing a hand over his newly grown ragged stubble of a beard, and locked the door to the bathroom behind him. A few moments later the sound of the shower running drifted through the door.

Brom turned to Arya and tossed her the extra bedding he had picked up. "Here. Bandages. Better than nothing. You can use the comforter for padding the floor. If someone comes in to check it would be best if you're at least out of easy sight."

"Was planning on sleeping there anyway." She grabbed the comforter and gestured to the gap between one of the beds and the wall. "Do you mind if take the space next to your bed, Eragon?"

"Yeah, sure, go ahead." He smiled, happy that the elf had chosen to be closer to him than to Brom. "You can take some of the pillows too, I only need one." She nodded her thanks and threw her makeshift bedding down, padding over it in oblong, looping circles to settle the lumps before adding one of the pillows. "So, um...you said you used beanies when you were with the Varden to go out drinking. Don't they know you're an elf? I mean, they have to, right? Why can't you just go as is?"

Arya shrugged and sat next to him on the bed. Before answering, she unsheathed a mid-sized combat knife from the side of her boot and set about tearing the sheet Brom had given her into palm wide strips. "They know. And plenty of them are unsettled by us. It took a while to get used to the stares and the occasional...remark, I should say. When something is misunderstood, it is often feared, and going out for a drink in one of Farthen Dur's crowded bars with our ears clearly on display could turn the atmosphere from fun to awkward in a hot second." Finished with the sheet, the elf began rolling the makeshift bandages. "So, we started wearing beanies or hoodies to cover our ears. Everyone treated us as just another human unless we did something to tip them off, at which point we would leave."

Eragon frowned. It bothered him that even the Varden had people who were not fond of other races. 'If they don't trust elves, then what are they going to think of me and Saphira?' He subconsciously reached his mind out to Saphira, brushing against her sleeping thoughts to reassure himself. When his mind was calm again and he had confirmed that she was safe, he asked, "Doesn't it bother you, though? You're helping them, and you've fought for them. Don't they respect that? Haven't you at least tried change their minds?"

Arya leveled her gaze with his. "Oh, I tried at first. It led to more trouble than good. Some people already have their minds made up, Eragon. Out of the entire Varden, only a small percentage openly expressed any issue with me and my guards, and I'm sure there are more who keep their thoughts to themselves." She paused to tear the end of a partially rolled strip lengthwise a few inches with her teeth. "Besides, there are still people in the Varden who treated me as just another Vardenite. People have opinions. I can't let it affect how I act. I fight for the Varden as a whole, and if it costs me a night of drowning myself in dwarvish vodka, I'm okay with that."

"Don't give the boy any ideas." Brom chastised from his bed. He had found a current newspaper in one of the nightstand drawers and was scanning it for any information regarding the Varden, Urgals, Gil'ead, or Eragon and Saphira. "And no getting him drunk. Unless I'm there. Then, well...we'll see."

Arya waved him off. "I know, I know."

The shower cut off. Moments later Murtagh emerged from the bathroom, tendrils of steam clinging to his body and trailing him as the door opened. "Alright, who's next?" He was clean-shaven and wore a simple tshirt and a pair of basketball shorts, still rubbing his head of wild, damp hair with a small towel.

"You're up, kid." Arya clapped Eragon on the shoulder. He hopped up and grabbed a set of clothes that were decently clean and his portable music player before slipping inside the steam filled room and locking the door behind him. Seconds later the muffled chords of country music could be heard as the shower turned on.

Brom folded the paper in half and used it to swat Arya's arm. "When are you going to take your turn? You definitely need it. And I'm putting that lightly."

The elf chuckled. "Last. Trust me, I am going to destroy that shower. The closest I've gotten to being clean was splashing water on my face the last few days. It's been well over six months since I actually showered.

"Fair point."

Murtagh fell onto his roller bed with a contented sigh. "Now this is nice. Hot water, a place to clean our clothes, a locked door. And a bed!" He lifted his head slightly. "Do they have a radio? For such a price they should have at least put a telly in the room."

"I doubt it plays anything but official news and propaganda." Brom grunted, but still leaned over and hit the power button on the small radio clock that graced the bedside table. After a few garbled channels of static and scrolling through the entire range of signals, he finally found one that came in crystal clear.

"–nds the economic report. Here's Karl Yorgisson with the day's news."

Brom snorted. "Told you."

Arya waved him away from hitting the off switch. "Shush, I want to hear this."

"Thanks, Jason." Karl Yorgisson accepted the hand off. "Still no concrete news on the attack at the Gil'ead military base. Although it is confirmed by the base commander that the attack was carried out by Varden forces, it is unclear if any were captured after their defeat or if any escaped.

"In other news, we have a new addition to our team! Rebecca Jayasdaughter is to be joining us for her first broadcast on–"

Brom hit the switch when no other news concerning their activities was forthcoming. "Well, that's good. They're not willing to admit that we slipped past them. That means they can't inform the general public about us or why they're searching for us."

"Attacked Gil'ead my arse." Murtagh grumbled, eyes closed and arms folded behind his head. "I climbed in through the bloody garbage chute. Could have at least called it a hostile intrusion or sabotage. We don't need the attention of being labeled dangerous attackers, period."

"Saphira told me she ripped the entire roof off their state dining hall. They can't cover up that amount of damage quick enough to pass it off as a single man stealth intrusion." Arya pointed out. "Besides, they'll blame it on an elvish raiding party sooner or later. They always do if the town is near Du Weldenvarden."

Murtagh frowned, confused, yet still refused to open his tired eyes. "Wait…. You're telling me that the reports of elvish raiding parties…?"

"Never happened?" The elf looked at him with genuine surprise and what appeared to be a touch of insult, aghast that he thought the stories were true. "Of course they never happened! We don't send out random raiding parties! Glen, Fäolin and I were the only elves to leave the forest since my race retreated there." She shook her head, shocked that he had actually believed the propaganda. "Honestly! It's too risky to send little groups out like that to attack directly, what if one of our fighters were captured!"

The young man cracked open one eye and lifted his head to raise an eyebrow at Arya. "Oh? So, you were just visiting Gil'ead and managed to lock yourself in a cell? The men you were with just fell on their guns, is that it?"

"That is different." Arya snarled. Brom glanced at her, mildly startled by her tone, then turned back to leafing through the phone book and wishing he had brought at least one of his prized lore tomes with him on this harebrained journey. "We weren't attacking, we were in the fringes of Du Weldenvarden. Someone in the Varden betrayed us. That betrayal led to the death of my fyrn breoal. I'd prefer it if you didn't make quips about it."

"I apologize." Murtagh dipped his head in her direction as best he could, his words truly sincere. Losing friends to the King was something he was very familiar with. "It was in bad taste."

Arya rubbed her temples and braced her elbows on her knees, shoulders tense. "Apology accepted. I shouldn't have snapped."

Murtagh shrugged. "Eh. Natural response." The room was quiet for a time, the only sound being the rustle of Brom now flipping through the holy book from the desk, the light patter of the shower, Eragon's off key humming, and country music. Then, "What's a frin br… fyrn bri…."

"Fyrn breoal. Means war family in the Ancient Language." Brom answered gruffly. Despite the no smoking designation, he pulled his pipe from his discarded jacket and clamped it firmly in his teeth. "Elves who fight often use it to describe their battle buddies. Only the closest knit groups use the term." He jerked his chin in Arya's direction. "If I'm not mistaken, that is."

The elf nodded, fiddling with one of the remaining bandages. She was weaving it over and between her fingers, trying to keep her hands busy. "Glen and Faölin were my fyrn darmthrelli, my war brothers. We fought for the Varden together for decades."

"I'm sorry for your loss."

Arya's jaw tightened slightly. "Shit happens in war. We all lose people. We fight even harder in their memory." She unwound the bandage and then looped the tail around her thumb again, beginning anew.

Murtagh mulled over the new words he had learned, again letting the atmosphere lapse into silence. It wasn't exactly a comfortable one, a little too heavy to be called that, but it was easy enough to be called content. The three currently inhabiting the room were all comfortable with reflecting on their own thoughts without feeling the urge to shatter the silence. Murtagh respected that of Brom and Arya, and was glad that they, too, seemed to respect his quiet.

'Fyrn breoal. Tornac was my fyrn breoal, then. I guess he would be my war father. Too old to be a war brother.' Murtagh's heavy lidded eyes wandered the room. 'I wonder what he would have thought of all this. Eragon, Saphira, Brom and Arya. Agh, Bloody hell, he'd probably lash me silly for agreeing to go to the Varden and trusting strangers like this.' The thought brought a sleepy grin to his face, and his eyes drifted closed.

"Oi. Don't sleep yet. You have to do laundry." Brom snapped when he saw the young man drifting off.

It didn't even phase Murtagh, who just rolled onto his side and mumbled, "Then wake me up when it's ready to be done." and nuzzled his face deeper into his pillow.

It didn't take long for his breathing to even out and his body to relax. Arya nudged the end of the bed with her foot and shook her head when Murtagh only mumbled and groggily waved her off.

"I can do the laundry. Should probably let the guy sleep." She offered when Brom made an annoyed noise at the young man's reaction.

"Can't have you wandering around out there." Brom shifted his pipe from one side of his mouth to the other. "If you run into someone who have any education from the army, it could get ugly fast."

"So I'm pretty much useless at this point in time?" Arya asked dryly. "Dear me, I'm in a room where I can't leave. Out of one jail and into another."

"Don't get all brooding on me, girl. Once your clothes are washed you can change out of Murtagh's and maybe the angst will wear off." The elf chuckled at that, and Brom flipped the holy book closed with a definitive snap. "Bloody hell, why is Eragon taking so long?"

The old man stood and went over to the bathroom door. He paused, glanced at Arya, and a bit of a mischievous glint came to his eyes. The elf raised an eyebrow. "Oh stars, I know that look. What are you planning?"

Brom only grinned and shoved his pipe into his pocket before raising his fist and banging on the door, yelling, "Eragon! What the HELL is taking so long?! You had better not be doing what I think you're doing in there!"

There was the distinct sound of someone nearly falling on their ass in a wet shower and sputtered curses. "I'll be done in a minute!"

"Cold water works wonders, boy! Hurry up!"

As Brom returned to his bed Arya swatted him on the arm. "He's a teenage boy. He needs his alone time." She, too, was trying to hold back laughter. "Better he do that in there than when he thinks we're all asleep."

"He should have thought of 'alone time' before he left Carvahall." Brom shot back, but was still grinning from ear to ear. "And trust me, you don't get alone time with a bonded dragon in your mind."

"Poor Saphira!"

The shower squeaked off and Eragon came out, his face and the tips of his tapering ears bright red. He was wearing a pair of long pajama pants and a loose t-shirt with the sleeves cut off.

"You could have just told me to hurry up." The boy grumbled, shooting Brom a moody glare.

Brom nodded with a chuckle. "Aye, but then you wouldn't have actually gotten out right when I asked."

"Well, I wasn't–" His face went an even deeper shade of red when he realized Arya was still awake and watching him, bemused. "I wouldn't do that with people in the next…. I just like hot showers, okay?" Pink blotches started appearing on his neck, collarbones and shoulders as he blushed furiously.

"Hey, I'm not saying anything." Arya put her hands up. "What you do in the shower is none of my business."

Brom grabbed his fresh clothes and brushed by the younger Rider. "You can sleep now, boy. No watches tonight. Put your dirty clothes next to Murtagh's."

Still red, Eragon placed his travel clothes next to the small pile Murtagh had made and sat on his bed. Arya was stretched out on the other side, leaning against the headboard, and was flipping through the holy book Brom had abandoned. She didn't seem to be reading it, just turning the pages to give herself something to do.

"You alright with me here until Brom gets out? I can move to his bed if you want me to." She asked as the Eragon wiggled underneath the tightly tucked sheets and blanket.

"No, it's okay. I don't mind." He attempted to adjust the pile of pillows behind his head and, giving up, pulled one out and tossed it at Murtagh. The sleeping man grumbled, kicking the pillow off his legs, and raised a middle finger in Eragon's general direction. "If you...um...if you don't want to sleep on the floor we could...you know, split sheet."

Eragon's ears flared a deep maroon as Arya let out a soft laugh. "Thanks, but I need to be out of general sight if anyone comes in. People would wonder why three people checked in and suddenly a fourth person appeared. Bed blocks the view of my little hideout." The Rider mumbled a 'good point' and tried to ignore the glimmer of amusement in the elf's dark eyes. "Is Saphira doing alright out there?"

"Yeah. She's asleep." Glad for the change in topic, Eragon busied himself with plugging his music player into the complimentary charger on the bedside table and wrapped his headphones around it carefully. "I think she's a little glad for the time alone. She grew up in the woods near my farm after she hatched, and since we started traveling with Murtagh I think she's been missing the solitude, not to mention a chance to sleep for a full night."

A slight smile tilted the corners of Arya's lips as she turned another page. "I think we've all earned a little rest."

Eragon nodded in agreement, punctuated by a wide yawn. The hot shower had made him drowsy on top of being bone tired. Coupled with the soft pillows, warm blankets, Saphira's sleeping thoughts and the safety of the walls around him, the boy found himself already drifting off. "Yeah." He murmured, eyelids drooping closed. "G'night, Arya."

"Good night, kid."

As Eragon dropped off, the elf gently settled the holy book on the bed and slipped down onto her makeshift mattress to begin preparing for her own turn in the shower. She released her braid and combed out the snarls in her hair, wiped off what bits of blood and grime that she could with a scrap of shredded sheet, and put her dirty fatigues on the pile near Murtagh's bed. When Brom stepped out, beard and mustache neatly clipped, he found Arya waiting quietly next to the door with the last package of toiletries and a fresh towel in her lap.

"Take as long as you want." Brom grunted, jerking his head towards the shower and flinging out a few water droplets from his still damp hair. "I'm sending Murtagh to do laundry and then heading to sleep."

"I'll try not to destroy the entire hotel's hot water supply." Arya grinned wryly as she stood. "I'll wake you if anything concerning happens."

~~~

"Heads up." Murtagh grunted, tossing Arya her fatigues. She muttered her thanks, feeling the effects of the hot shower sinking in. "Good night, Arya."

"'Night, Murtagh." The young man hit the last light before tumbling onto his roller bed with the 'whumph' of a relieved sigh. After a quick last look around the room to ensure everyone was accounted for, Arya followed suit.

No one dreamed. They just slept.

~~~

A swarm of curses in various languages assaulted him as he finally began to register his surroundings.

They were still in the hotel room, but the standard fire alarm on the wall was alive with flashing lights and mind shattering sound. To his right Brom was shoving the small pile of his clean clothes in his travel bag, swearing in a mildly familiar, old tribal dialect of the Spine. To Eragon's left, Arya was already zipping Murtagh's borrowed jacket up to cover the makeshift bandages on her torso, not even bothering with a shirt as she threw her fatigues onto her unzipped combat jacket. She zipped it, wrapped it up and clamped a spare blade harness strap around it before slinging the bundle across her back by the tied together sleeves and tore the window open. Eragon swore he heard her hissing choice words in the Ancient Language, but the intonation and inflections were markedly different.

"What the bloody hell is happening?" Eragon asked, snatching up his gear. He felt the distinct tickle of Saphira using his ears to hear the answer, her body tensing as she prepared to race to his aid.

Brom shoved the clip on the top of his bag together with a hurried snap. "From what I can gather, the desk clerk told her replacement about us and they checked the front tapes. They recognized at least one of us and they're setting up the local garrison outside the doors as we speak."

Murtagh's muttered swearing filled the brief gap in conversation. "Faigh muin, deoghail am fallus bhàrr duine mharbh siadha tiadhan, cao–"

Eragon ignored him and haphazardly threw his clothing into his backpack, yanking on the zipper when it refused to close all the way. "What's the alarm about then?" He checked that Zar'roc's hilt and pommel were still wrapped, concealing the gem and shining grip, then strapped the blade on his hip.

"They're trying to lure us to the emergency exit." Brom growled. "Tell Saphira to keep out of sight unless absolutely necessary. We still have a chance get out of here without letting them see her."

'There won't be anything to see if I eat them all.' The dragon hissed in response. Eragon's jaw twinged as she snapped her teeth in frustration. 'I'll decide when to be seen. Just hurry up. I can smell a reinforcement company approaching.'

Eragon relayed her message. The speed of Murtagh's swearing increased while even Brom let out a particularly foul word. "How are we getting out?" The younger Rider asked. "We can't go out and we can't go up without having Saphira try to fly us out, and she can't carry four people."

"Theta Rescue." Arya grabbed Eragon's backpack before he could pick it up. "Or as I like to call it unofficially, 'The Reversed Cliché.'" She threw his bag out the window, ignoring his cry of confusion.

"Only if you're up for it." Brom threw his bag to her, and she repeated the process. Murtagh calmly handed his over with a polite nod and a swear that Arya must have recognized, for she snapped back at him with a word of her own. "It's quite a drop, even for you. The added weight won't help."

"No alternative I can see. Unless you want to tie together bed sheets." Her head cocked to the side. "They're sweeping the floor below us."

"Theta it is." Brom set himself up behind the wall near the door. "Lightest first, heaviest last. Eragon, Murtagh, you both are going to do exactly as Arya says, when she says you do it. Order is Eragon, me, then you Murtagh."

"Wait, what's happening?" Eragon asked as Arya grabbed his arm and pulled him to the window. "What are you doing?"

Arya flashed him a grin that didn't reach her now flinty eyes. "Don't worry. All you have to do is trust me. And don't wiggle."

"Wigg–" Eragon was cut off as the elf ducked and suddenly swept him off his feet in a fireman's carry. He only had time to spit out a quick "Oh Sweet Sara–" before Arya jumped out the window.

~~~

Half an hour later found the group galloping past the stand of trees where Saphira had hidden. The dragon leapt over their heads and snapped her wings out, startling the horses. 'On the road again, Little One?' She asked, gaining altitude to circle above them.

'On the road again.' Eragon affirmed, letting their thoughts mingle and intertwine in a way that the distance had previously made difficult. He felt her joy of flight and relief at being reunited, but also her displeasure. The close call had further confirmed her theory that he was a magnet for trouble. 'I'm going to hear about this later, aren't I?'

The dragon chuffed, the odd sound resonating through their mental link. 'You're just lucky Brom has a good head on his shoulders.' With that she drove her wings down, shooting up another hundred feet. 'You will fly with me today.'

'Yes ma'am.' Eragon smiled and Saphira crowed her jubilation to the sky.

Dust billowed from the horse's hooves as they continued on their journey. It was good to be on the road again.

#modern inheritance #modern inheritance cycle #inheritance cycle #eragon #modern inheritance story #arya #brom #murtagh #saphira #hotel pit stop #sleeping arrangements #old mic story #tbh this was and still is one of my favorites #i'd love to find a way to rewrite it while keeping the original spirit intact

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hateswifi · 5 years ago

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Rising from the Ashes: Of Decisions and Old Friends

So this is Part Nine here is to my Master List and Part Eight. Just a short little chapter, not even 2k words. Sorry my dudes.

----------------------------------

"Ladybug, my name is Superboy," he says as he sits beside her.

"What's up? I'm Ladybug heroine of Paris, who decided in a need for a change of scenery," she greets, her eyes never leaving the skyline.

"Nothing much just ruined my brother's relationship," he shrugs dejectedly. "What's got you down in the dumps?"

"I have to leave again. The life I've been building is going to be destroyed," she says practically emotionless.

"Why is that? If you like it shouldn't you try and fix it?" Superboy asks, looking at the poor girl.

"As guardian of the miraculous and holder of the miraculous of creation and the ladybug, anyone who isn't a miraculous holder is not allowed to know my identity. Somehow my boyfriend figured it out not even a week into our relationship. I don't want to put him in danger because I'm pretty sure I love him," Ladybug explains, standing, she heard more footsteps.

"There you are Superboy," Nightwing says, walking towards him. "Robin has calmed down and doesn't want to kill you. So you can come back to the Batcave."

"I didn't realize that Hood was going to post that," he groans, standing as well.

"You live you learn," Nightwing shrugs. "How are you doing, Spot?"

"Tired," she replies with a yawn.

"Yeah me too. By the way LB you might want to get your injuries checked out," Superboy pointed out.

"What injuries?" she asks, confused.

"Ya know the stab wound, burns, and multiple broken bones. There are so many you shouldn't be alive," he answered.

"How can you see those?" she asks, looking to where the stab wound had been weeks ago.

"X-ray vision," he said, tapping his temple. "How are you not dead though?"

"How can you still be walking with a healing stab wound and broken bones?" Nightwing asked, sitting on the ledge, patting the area around him telling them to sit too.

"Part of my miraculous' power is Lucky Charm which is what is given to me to solve a problem. Back when I was fighting akumas I would use the Lucky Charm after the fight to fix Paris. I didn't realize my injuries would still show up, not gonna lie. During the last battle, I took a hit for my partner, Chat Noir, because he was protecting Ryuko. I got stabbed with Hawkmoth's cane, sword combo thing," she explained. "I guess the injuries are held together by magic until my body naturally heals them."

"Well, I gotta start packing, bye you guys! I wish you the best of luck with Gotham's criminals," She said, jumping off the building her yo-yo twirling.

"Packing? What did she mean by that?" Nightwing asked, standing. Jon then explained everything she had told him before he had arrived. "You know he's going to kill you."

"I figured, but I have a plan to help fix this," he said, standing before flying back to Metropolis.

"Telling me would be helpful and you know give me and probably Robin piece of mind," Nightwing shouted after him. "Or not that's fine too." He ran back to the manor after finishing his patrol.

Marinette decides not to pack tonight and also decides to go see Chloe tomorrow. She falls asleep fast after showering. When she wakes up the next morning she texts Chloe asking if Ann can come to see her. After a positive response, she packs an overnight bag including her pajamas, an olive green light jacket, a white shirt, blue skinny jeans, and gray ankle boots. The second outfit she packed is for Christmas day, which is a red off the shoulder v-neck dress, the bottom part is flowy and reaches the knee, black tights and would wear the grey boots from her last outfit. She packed her hairbrush, toothbrush, her charger, her sketchbook, and the miracle box. After she gets dressed as Ann in her outfit Luka inspired, she transforms and teleports to Chloe's room. She continues to wear the horse miraculous as glasses so she didn't have to put them away.

"Hey, Marinette, what's up? I just saw you a couple of days ago, not that I'm complaining," Chloe said, hugging her.

"Damian found out about me being Ladybug, now I have to move again, because no one can no," Marinette said, setting her bag down. "I'm just going to stay until tomorrow night. I hope you don't mind. For Christmas Master Fu said I could stay with him."

"That's fine, but what's the matter with Damian knowing? It's a different time from when you were a hero during Hawkmoth's reign. Have you talked to him about it?" Chloe asked, rubbing her back.

"No, I was asked to spend Christmas with him, but I don't think he will want to after the exit I made," Marinette said, rubbing her eyes.

"I don't think you should make any rash decisions before you talk with him," Chloe said, standing. "Want to go for a walk? I heard André's is nearby," Chloe said, leading them out of her room. They walk to the lock bridge where André's cart was set up.

"Hello girls," André greets. "I see almond for his lips and skin, mint for his piercing green eyes, and dark chocolate for his dark past and black hair, but it seems you've met him. For the young blonde--"

"No, I don't want to know," Chloe interrupts. "Can I just have dark chocolate?"

"That I can do," André says, scooping the ice-cream as they pay. "Have a good day you two."

"Let's take a selfie," Chloe says, pulling out her phone. They hold up their ice-cream with the Seine and lock on the bridge in the background. Chloe posts the picture with this caption:

'I'm here with my girl, Ann. <3. Miss her, so glad we can spend a couple of days before Christmas. #Blessed #MakingMemories #Andrés'icecream'

@adrienagrestebrand

‘Why didn’t you tell me that she was coming! And you guys got ice cream without me and @Kagami.Ts and @luka.coufaine! I’m hurt’

"You didn't tag me in that right?" Marinette asks, licking her ice-cream cone.

"Nah, you're dead remember?" Chloe says, brushing off her concerns.

Marinette giggles, but that is interrupted by Marinette's phone. She sees Damian's number. "I'm going to take this," shes says, answering the phone. "Hi, Damian."

"Hi, Marinette, can we talk in person?" he asked, his voice being cracked by the distance.

"I... I.. can't at the moment," Marinette said, crossing her phoneless hand in front of her.

"Ann! It's so good to see you!" came a voice.

"Marinette, who was that?" he asks.

"Ummm... that was Luke, but this isn't the best time right now," she responds, waving at Luka.

"Luka? Isn't he in Paris? Where are you?" Damian asked she could hear stuff shuffling in the background.

"I'm in Paris," she said, slowly.

"Please, Angel I'm--" the line crackled and hung up before he could say anything.

"I love you, Prince," she said, bringing the phone down from her ear with a tear forming in her eyes. She walks back to the group because Luka, Adrien, and Kagami had joined them while she was on the phone. "Hey, guys, I think I'm going to visit my parents. Luka may I borrow your hoodie, I want to be able to cover my face."

"Ya sure Bug," he said, pulling off the Jagged Stone sweatshirt. "I love the outfit you made by the way. I heard I inspired it."

"Yes, your guitar solo inspired me," She explained, the hoodie over her head. "Thank you, guys. Will I see you for dinner?"

"Yes, we decided to eat together at a small cafe called, KB Café," Chloe says, hugging her goodbye.

"See you later," She said, waving bye.

She walks in silence to the graveyard where her parents are buried. She kneels in between her parents' grave. That is until a tap on her shoulder. Alya.

"Hi, your name is Ann, right?" Alya asked, kneeling beside her.

"Yes," She responds politely in her practiced British accent. Even though Marinette and Alya weren't friends anymore doesn't mean she didn't feel the loss of her or maybe she just wanted to hear what Alya thought of her. "What is your name?"

"I'm Alya. I was Marinette's best friend for a long time," she answers, looking at Marinette's grave. "You're friends with Chloe, Adrien, Luka, and Kagami, right?"

"Uhh... yes. I used to be friends with her when Chloe and Marinette used to be friends as children. I miss the girl, she helped me with my bullying problem by showing me my worth," Ann explained, trying to make her feel a bit guilty.

"She was so nice to everyone, I think I lost sight of it," Alya said, a tear rolling down her cheek.

After awhile Ann broke the silence. "Ya know, Kagami, Luka, Chloe, and Adrien, they aren't bad people. They protect people, who are family to them. Their blood family might not be the best, but who's family is, they have each other's backs. They face things together head-on," Ann explained, standing. "I wish you the best in life. I hope you can forgive yourself and move forward. I hope you find a family bond like mine someday. Goodbye." She heard Alya crying as she left.

When she arrived at the cafe they agreed on, she took off the hoodie Luka gave her to borrow, The group arrived not too long after. They ordered the food and ate happily they talked about what they're doing tomorrow and on Christmas. Kagami and Adrien's families are spending Christmas together. Luka was leaving tomorrow to see his grandparents with his sister and mom. Chloe's mom is flying in tonight to be in Paris till New Year's. She decided to text Master Fu about staying tomorrow and Christmas so Chloe could spend more time with her family.

"You guys want to come back to the hotel to watch animes," Chloe asks, splitting the check with Adrien.

"Sounds like a plan," Adrien agrees, standing and pushing in his chair.

Once they get back to Chloe's room, Marinette takes out her contacts and takes off her wig. She wears a hoodie to bed just in case someone, like Chloe’s mother, comes in her room. They all watch anime for a while until Luka and Adrien have to leave, then put on cliche Hallmark movies. The girls fall asleep together on Chloe's couch.

-----------------------------------------------

Tag list (Open):

@northernbluetongue @melhuney @ladysblackcat @sturchling @otaku4312 @g-arya @smolplantmum @bluefyoto94 @echpr @moonlightstar64 @thesunanditsangel @cutechip @heaven428 @elmokingkong @kass-is-weird @niza13149 @urbanpineapplefarmer @ginamarie1512 @chocolatecatstheron @iggy-of-fans @crazylittlemunchkin @komatsuna-yuki @weird-pale-blonde-person @ellerahs @sinnamonroill @daminett4life @queenmj10 @indecisive-mess-named-me @reyna-avila-ramirez-alreanaldo

#miraculous ladybug au #alya salt #ml new life au #ml salt fic #damimari #damian x marinette #damian wayne #batfam #marinette x batfam #maribat #light angst #marinette dupain cheng #lila salt #ml x dc #wifiwrites

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ddagent · 5 years ago

Note

Jaime is the replacement for Renly as Brienne’s co-anchor in a morning show. A self-defense expert is the guest. Brienne accidentally blacks Jaime’s eye. “accidentally”

I hope this makes your day a little brighter, my dear! Inspired by Nikolaj turning up on CNN with a shiner.

“And we’ll be right back with Syrio after these messages.”

A production assistant signalled they were off-air, and Brienne sagged against the blue sofa. Beside her, her temporary co-anchor smirked. “You should smile more, Tarth. Wouldn’t want to put people off their breakfast with that frown of yours.”

And with that, Jaime Lannister stood up to grab a bottle of water and refresh his make-up.

Things didn’t use to be like this. Brienne used to like going to work each morning; liked sharing the sofa of Good Morning, Storm’s End with her co-anchor (and secret crush) Renly Baratheon. But then Renly’s brother Stannis had accidentally hit him with a car, and Renly was off for three months. The producers had brought in Jaime Lannister, the evening news anchor of a major station in King’s Landing, to cover for him. Brienne had thought, for a moment, that he might be respectful; professional.

She had been wrong.

Right now he swanned back on the soundstage like he owned it. Which, according to rumours she’d heard in the break room, he technically did. Apparently, Jaime’s father had bought their network. When she’d heard that, Brienne had given up ever working with Renly again. Maybe she could get fired; start fresh up North. Catelyn had always said there was a job for her at Wake Up in Winterfell.

“Silver stag for them?” Jaime asked, breaking Brienne out of her reverie. “I’d offer a gold dragon but I’m not sure they’re worth that much.”

“Piss off.”

“Now now, let's not get too aggressive before Mister Forel arrives. You know, Tarth, you should really pay attention. It’s a dangerous world out there. I mean, you’re tall as fuck and you look like a man from behind, but some men like a challenge.”

She raised her middle finger just as the production assistant queued them back in after the commercial break. The teleprompter called for Brienne to re-introduce the segment, but Jaime jumped in.

“If you’re just joining us here at Good Morning, Storm’s End, we’re about to be joined by master self-defence expert Syrio Forel, who is bringing out a new web series dedicated to teaching moves you can learn at home. Do you know any self-defence, Brienne?”

I’m a master of several arts, can box, and swing a broadsword. “I know where to put my thumb when I make a fist, Jaime.” Up your arse, you pompous prat. “But I’m hoping Syrio will teach me a few moves.”

They welcomed Syrio Forel onto the soundstage where a mat had been set up for a demonstration. Jaime removed his tie and rolled up his sleeves. Whilst Lannister was primping, Brienne took over asking Forel a few questions about his new series, his history in the field, and his famed gym back in Braavos. When Jaime was ready, Syrio got them in position.

“Now, Jaime, you stand behind Brienne and try to grab her. Brienne, I want you to aim your elbow just off to Jaime’s side. If he was really aiming to attack you, you’d go for his solar plexus. But we don’t want you hurting your co-anchor.”

“Not at all,” Jaime said; a glint in his green eyes. “You don’t want to hurt me, do you, Tarth?”

She pinned a sickly sweet smile to her features as Jaime’s arm slotted across her sternum. His arm was firm; his skin warm against her navy button-down. Brienne blinked and aimed her elbow backwards. She didn’t quite get the air she was hoping for, and instead hit Jaime in the side. A couple of the cameramen chortled.

“My co-anchor’s elbows are armed and dangerous,” Jaime laughed off, but his smile was gone. “Let’s try it again.”

They gave it a couple more goes; once, Brienne was even the assailant. Jaime, thankfully, restrained himself from seeking revenge with his own elbows. Then Forel moved on to showing them how to throw a punch. He demonstrated the correct form before Jaime threw a few mock jabs stopping short of her thrice broken nose.

Forel was addressing the cameras, discussing what more could be learned from his web series, when Jaime turned to her. His microphone was covered by his hand. “You’re not very good at this, are you? I can see why Baratheon seemed happy to be a knocked down by a car. Got a break from working with you.”

When it was played back for Brienne later – when Catelyn’s daughter Arya sent her the video posted online with millions of hits – she would be unable to pinpoint exactly when she decided to punch Jaime Lannister in the face. It was just an instinct. She would not be talked to like that. She would not be treated like that. Jaime Lannister didn’t seem to register words. Words are wind, after all. So she thrust back her arm and struck him with her fist.

“Seven Hells!” exclaimed one of the cameramen; Forel turning back to see what had happened and trying hard to restrain his grin.

The first aider was called for. A commercial break was aired. Brienne stood over Jaime with her fist curled, adrenalin rushing through her, not sure what to do now. Below her, Jaime pressed his fingers against his reddening eye socket. She expected him to call for the gold cloaks. She expected him to call his father and have her fired. Instead, he looked up at her as if she were one of the Seven.

“Nice punch. Brienne.”

#braime #jaime x brienne #mine: paragraph prompts #ship: braime #agirlnamedkeith

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arabian-bloodstream · 6 years ago

Text

Gendrya Confirmation, Bitches!

OK, so technically, no, it's not confirmed, but I'm taking this bit of detective work on my part as confirmation, damnit! (Not that I didn't already 100% believe that Gendrya was happening and have been pretty darn firm in that belief all along.) So before I jump to that, I need to set it up and so I shall...

Alrighty then, I wrote a post full of happy-happy-joy-joy, entitled: "Oh, my precious babies! So endgame!" a few weeks ago. I wrote this after the episode when most of the Gendrya fanbase was not very happy. You know, that would be episode 04, yeah, the one when Gendry dropped to his knee and proposed and Arya was all, 'Nah, I'm good' and went back to her target practice while his little heart crumpled to a million pieces before our very eyes. Yeah, that one.

Meanwhile, I was all "YES!" at the end of episode because my precious babies were clearly endgame in my eyes! True story, look at the date on that linked post. So the main reason why I felt so positive about Arya and Gendry after episode 04 was because of the first scene with the Hound and the final scene with the Hound. As I wrote in that post:

In the first scene, Gendry and the Hound were at the feast celebrating the North’s victory over the undead–Arya’s victory. And, of course, Arya was nowhere to be found.

Gendry: Have you seen Arya? The Hound: You can still smell the burning bodies and that’s where your head is at? Gendry: I just want to thank her– The Hound: I’m sure you do. Gendry: Look, it’s not about that. The Hound: Of course it’s about that, you twat. Why shouldn’t it be? The dead are dead. You’re not.

The Hound made it pretty clear he was well aware that Gendry wanted to *be* with Arya and when Gendry tried to deny it, the Hound called him on it and, surprisingly, pointed out that it was exactly what he should be doing. Now, let’s make this clear. Gendry wanted to celebrate LIFE with *Arya* and the Hound flat-out told him that such was exactly the thing he should be doing.

Contrast this with the final conversation the Hound has in the episode.

Arya: You’re heading to King’s Landing. The Hound: I have some unfinished business. Arya: Me too. The Hound: I don’t plan on coming back. Arya: Neither do I.

So we have the show using The Hound to illustrate that *Gendry* is life as Gendry wanted to celebrate life with Arya–who you remember was “celebrating” by shooting arrows at a target–and on the opposite spectrum, that Arya has indeed once more chosen a life of death. Now, at the end of that discussion, he also asked that if he needs her to kill him, will she just leave him to not die again and she said probably… which means, that they probably will wind up in a situation like that, but this time she will give him mercy. However, before she does, he’ll tell her to choose life. Something like: Go get that blacksmith cunt that’s always mooning over you and have lots of black-haired babies with him. Don’t be like me. Don’t chase death your whole life. Live.

I later expounded exclusively on that theme in greater detail here in a post (not surprisingly) titled: Arya's Choice. In that one, I discussed the entangling of the Hound and Gendry in Arya's storyline throughout season 08 going back to their reunions with her taking place together. In this meta, I wrote:

The reason that Arya’s first scene with Gendry and the Hound was done TOGETHER [...] is because they represent opposite choices of her life going forth.

The Hound is death.

Gendry is life.

It’s all tied up together. Gendry (life) chose to walk away from her all those years away, and then Arya ran away and was captured by the Hound (death). Now Gendry (life) offered himself to her, but she chose to walk away and met up with the Hound (death). It’s eventually going to come down to Arya making the choice herself to walk away from death–which I believe that the Hound will push her to do–and choose life, choose Gendry.

As noted above, I even gave him some dialogue when I did think that Arya would give him mercy. (Although to be fair, I thought that Arya would do so because everyone around me kept saying she would do so. I hadn't really thought that would happen before it kept getting pushed at me. :shrugs:) But the main thing is that I thought he would give her the push to live comparing his life to hers. No, he didn't mention anything about Gendry--nor (and I can't believe I'm saying this because I'm not particularly fond of the word, but coming from Sandor Clegane it was always hilariously used) did a 'cunt' come from him all season long. He died without uttering it even once. Sad.

Anyhoo. Comparing part of my "something like this" dialogue for his parting words to Arya with what he actually said? I think I nailed it pretty closely.

My words: Don’t be like me. Don’t chase death your whole life. Live. His words: You think you've wanted revenge a long time? I've been after it all my life. It's all I care about and look at me. LOOK AT ME! You want to be like me? You come with me, you die here.

Same point getting across there. And this is what David Benioff said about the scene itself "Inside the Episode” that was on Youtube right after the show aired.

It's a small scene, but it's also, for us, one of the most important scenes in the whole episode because it's the culmination of their story together. The road to vengeance always ends in one place. Which is what the Hound is saying to her here. "I've made my choice a long time ago, and this can only end in one possible way for me. But for you, you have so many other options.

The Hound has genuinely come to have affection for Arya. I think he loves her, as much as he's capable of loving someone. And he knows that if she comes with him at this point, she's not gonna make it out of there.

So, yeah... Nailed it! And if the Hound is death... then doesn't that then make Gendry life considering how they’ve so closely entangled the two characters with Arya this season? Especially with the contrasts? Not only the conversations in episode 04, but Arya choosing to not spend her final hours with the miserable old shits (The Hound, and yes, Beric, but the Hound was the key one there) but instead having sex with Gendry. And sex well, its main purpose is to, you know, create life. And then there’s the first time she saw them both this season in episode 01, “Winterfell,” Arya spied the Hound and then Gendry arrive. The Hound rode in upon a black horse. Gendry? A white horse.

After she turned down Gendry's proposal--in my analysis, rejecting life--and joined the Hound on the road to King's Landing to commit regicide, expecting to not come out of it alive--accepting death--she rode a black horse.

After listening to Sandor's words, after choosing to let Cersei die by a means other than her hand, running through the streets of death and chaos, fighting to live, fighting to try and help others live, surviving because the God of Death declared that no, my former pupil, death was not happening, not today, Arya Stark stood amidst all of that death and she stood in the light. The sun shone upon her and she saw a way out of that darkness, away from all of that death, back to life. She saw a white horse.

And she rode on that white horse away from death. To life? To Gendry? I think so.

Now, taking all of that into account, the Arya and the tangling of Gendry and the Hound--which just had to definitively be deliberate--here's where my little detective work brought me to my final definitive GENDRYA CONFIRMATION, BITCHES! moment. In early Spring, D.B. Weiss and Daniel Benioff helped create a new Spotify playlist: Game of Thrones: The End Is Coming. Upon doing so, they told For the Record in an email, “The answer to the ending is one hundred percent hidden in the playlist choices. No one will believe us, but it’s true.”

Well, a friend of mine and I have been going through each song to try and guess which songs apply to which characters and situations as we're heading into the final inning. And then I got to one particular song and I literally said: "OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG! GENDRYA CONFIMRATION, BITCHES!" And this is why.

This is from the official Game of Thrones Youtube channel: It is titled: Game of Thrones | Season 8 Episode 5 | The Hound's Gift (HBO). The description of the video is: Maisie Williams explains Arya's choice. Yeah, you read that right. Uh huh, please do make note that my post written a week or so ago about the Hound = Death and Gendry = Life, and that Arya will choose life (thus Gendry) was titled "Arya's Choice" and I done wrote that on May 06, 2019! I'm just saying. Ahem, anyhoo. So, the video has Maisie talking about the "gift" that the Hound gives Arya.

This is a really important moment, the Hound realizing that "I don't think this kid knows what she's gonna get into." And turning around and giving her this incredible gift, which is the second ticket to a new life.

He's wanted revenge his entire life, and do you wanna be like him? "Is that what you want?" Just a moment in Arya where all those emotions that she’s been trying to suppress and trying to ignore and trying to focus on the task at hand all bubble up again, and this man who she cares so much about and has learned so much from and admires so much turned around and says ‘You don’t want this. You—you go.' She realizes there is another way. There is another life that she could have.

We tell real stories about real people and in this season, Arya decides against being that character that people love, and she decides to, to take her life into her own hands and take control of what she wants.

Let's break what she says down a bit first. Obviously, all of this lines completely up with where I've seen this going. Arya steps away from the whole list-friendly, death-first Arya-'assassin' that "people love." And it makes me sad that Maisie does know that so many people do love that iteration of Arya. It makes me so sad because Arya is so, so much more. *sigh*

The reaction to the idea of Arya having sex, showing interest in *that* kind of relationship--because no, it wasn't all just about the fact that it was watching a girl we watched grow up, there was definitely a lot of... but that's not Arya!, she's an assassin-baby!--shows that she definitely has a point. Still, what she says here makes it quite clear that, yes, Arya IS going to step away from that. Having Sandor basically say to her that she doesn't want to be a miserable old shit like him was a real wake-up call.

Her first "ticket" to life was obviously the coin from Jaqen Hagar. This is her second, and getting that from the Hound who has seen and been through so much shit with Arya, plus seeing the devastating horror of rampant death and destruction all around her has brought that message home loud and clear. She does not want that life, his life. Which is death. She is choosing now to take what she wants. And what does she want? Well, that brings me (finally!) to that OMG! moment.

Remember what I said above about the Game of Thrones spotify list and those clues that D&D talked about. Well, while going through the songs, and having watched this particular video clip the day before, I was pretty damn shook when I got to the end of "No One Knows" By Queens of the Stone Age. Here are the complete lyrics. However, what I want to focus on is the chorus and the outro as we close out the song.

[Chorus] And I realize you're mine Indeed a fool am I And I realize you're mine Indeed a fool am I Ahh

[Outro] Heaven smiles above me What a gift here below But no one knows A gift that you give to me No one knows

That's right.

"What a gift here below, but no one knows. A gift that you give to me. No one knows."

The Hound gave Arya a gift. Arya was No One.

Thus my "OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG! GENDRYA CONFIMRATION, BITCHES!"

Yeah. They are the ship that is promised. BOOYAH!

(Plus, yeah, all of the other reasons I’ve talked about ad nauseum over the last month!)

#arya x gendry #gendrya #game of thrones #maisie williams #sandor clegane #the hound #arya and the hound #david benioff #arya stark

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comradeocean · 6 years ago

Text

I haven't read Arya x Gendry in like ... 6 years. I caught up a bit this week. Here are some I really like!

[30 some fic recs after the jump]

post 8x01 Arya keeps looking for reasons to visit Gendry in the forge. - mmh post episode askbox fic

Somewhere to Begin, MissAtomicBomb (mrs_nerimon) The Stark sisters share a moment in the wake of some impactful reunions. - lmao my most frequently used GoT tag was "westeROS" (remember Ros???) followed by "Stark famly dynamics." So Stark sisters hashing things out... my kryptonite

Beautiful & Deadly Sharp, vlaurie17 Learning to fight with a sword were some of Arya's best memories. Sansa, however, was hesitant. “What do I do with it?” “Stick ‘em with the pointy end,” Arya smirked. Sansa just rolled her eyes, “Obviously." - also Stark sisters revisiting being Vengeance-made-girls together and practising to knife someone

I'll sing for you, Ravenclawpride06 Set post 8x1. Gendry wants it bad. Arya wants it worse. Was going to more explicit but I left it vague, felt it fit better in the end. All the pining! - I’m soft for the pining

This is my wish, crazychipmink "As he studied the drawing she had given him, he slowly began to let himself believe that she was real and alive and well. He had thought about Arya so many times that the memory of her was worn in his mind. Fragile and faded, like a piece of parchment that had been read too many times. To tell the truth, sometimes, he couldn’t even remember what she looked like, only that she was the only thing he ever wanted, ever wished for.” - season 8 episode companion fic series - ao3 tag: weapons design processes are long and require many iterations - “Davos assumed he was waiting to play his part in the great war to come, but in reality, Gendry was waiting for the next remarkable thing to happen to him. Perhaps if enough remarkable things happened to him, he would finally let himself believe that the most remarkable thing that had ever happened to him had happened.” wow ok

Who are you waiting for? crazychipmink [incomplete] "She had Arya’s face and Arya’s voice and even Arya’s smile. But despite all that, he felt like he had just spoken to a ghost. An unnatural ghost of Arya, pretending to be the girl he was in love with. Gendry had traveled to the end of the world to find her, but now that he finally had, she was gone." - the angst universe evil twin version of the fic above - we will take it bc we love to suffer - and also bc the author promises "fluff" and "eventual romance" ok sounds real but ok

the thing with feathers, yanak324 If anyone is capable of bringing the old Arya back, it’s this man in front of her, which is precisely why she must walk away. - a more (immediately) optimistic read of how Arya's in episode enactments of being No One might have gone

and in the end, jeeno2 [incomplete] Five times Gendry Waters is an idiot and the one time he figures things out. - Gendry being dumb is kind of a thing and I'm not always the biggest fan of how it plays out in fanon but this is sweet!

The She-Wolves of Winterfell, vixleonard The pack survived. So has the Stark habit of keeping secrets. - 2nd generation Stark girls. Arya's daughter matter-of-factly saying "Stark women don't get married" - a whole ass mood.

Mid-Battle, Mary_West Sandor has something important to say to Gendry - if only Gendry can live long enough to hear it.

season 8 AU My Lady sanctuary_for_all Gendry and Arya find each other again. (AKA the plotline Gendry deserved in 7X07) - fic convention I am 100% here for: Arya scrabbling around Gendry's face looking for the seam. fic convention I am 100000% here for: Arya throwing off her glove in order to do so and then holding her hands against his cheek

Nights are for You (or Five Times Arya Visits Gendry in the Forge and One Time Gendry Visits Arya in the Castle) ASwornStark She hasn’t visited the forge since Jon returned home with the dragon bitch (the Stark sisters’ favored name for her) and him in tow. - reunion fic

season 7 Before We Jump, MissAtomicBomb (mrs_nerimon) Arya Stark's bastard boys bond on their way to the Wall. - anything for some good rowing references and bastard subjectivity

earlier laughing 'till our ribs get tough (that will never be enough), belasteals "Gendry took one look and laughed so hard that wine came out of his nose, until Harwin gave him a thwack alongside his ear." - A Storm of Swords, Arya IV (or, Gendry's POV on Acorn Hall) - real ones can't get enough of book canon and Acorn Hall.

Butcher, elephant_eyelash Gendry and Arya by the fire, discussing jacket potatoes and thinking murderous things. - perfect meditation on food and hunger and care

Dissimulo, Somnio, jeeno2 She is no one, now. But still the boy with the black hair haunts her dreams. - honestly the showrunners are cowards for not going there. let No One be Vagina Dentata Personified 2kwhenevertheBraavosiseasonsaired

post canon/canon divergent Charcoal, elephant_eyelash All about winter and feeling the cold. - weird how I'm obsessed with self-loathing and wintry alienation and the weight of history and ancestry but also devotion also love. super weird totally unexpected

Five Things Gendry Only Says in the Dark, jeeno2 Where no one else can hear him. - loneliness, shame, self-loathing. the important emotions. oh and spoiler alert some joy.

Like Wenda, Furious_Winter "...she could ride with Gendry and be an outlaw, like Wenda the White Fawn in the songs." - my favourite canon AUs are Arya and Gendry with the Brotherhood and my absolute favourites of those are when they are apart (who's ever heard of a marauding smith??) but have some of miserable bittersweet understanding and they glower at each other and make each other jealous and everything is unspoken but this is it this singular love they have for each other that doesn't quite work out. I've just realized that most of these recs are highkey angsty oops. anyway, this fic is like the most complete and perfect distillation of everything I want. - also this is so richly detailed and complete in itself. immensely satisfying. - yeah ok Furious_Winter is actually the master of post canon together but not Arya/Gendry love is not always enough fics. I'm just going to recommend all of them: - The Wolf's Head Helm [The Starks are back in Winterfell and Sansa is Queen in the North. One day, Arya receives a gift from an old friend... - Arya is in Sansas's queensguard.] - A Means To An End (incomplete) [Arya Stark has returned from Essos and has been staying at the Inn at the Crossroads. Things are not nearly as simple as she sees them. - fuck this one hurts so good] - A Bastard At Heart [Arya and Gendry marry other people for the good of the kingdom 'cause they're self sacrificing like that. the last line took me outtt]

the truth is, baby you're all that I need, belasteals “You were jealous,” he laughed, almost shocked. “Arya Stark of Winterfell, jealous of a whore.” - sirens This One Is Not Angsty sirens

A Girl Meets a Boy, Hotpie A girl takes a face; a girl takes a lover. - possibly my favourite Crossroads Inn fic. love the Faceless Man stuff. love the detail of Needle having a smallest spot of rust, from Braavosi Steel Pox and Arya feeling a ways about it. love picking up the Melisandre thread.

So Easy To Love, Val_Creative She misses Gendry's complaining, too enthralled with staring. "You smell like Dennett's underarms," Arya murmurs, leaning in, going for blunt honesty. Gendry opens his mouth, beginning to laugh, turning uproarious and smiling. She's never seen anything more beautiful than this. More kissable than Gendry's mouth. - the summary makes it seem like it's all kissing when there is actually a big chunk of plot - in service of eventual kissing, yes, - but! spoiler alert! they don't even get to it in this fic! not exactly - maybe why I love it a lot??

With Bells in Her Hair, semicolonlife [incomplete] The further south they travel the more Gendry starts to wonder if he truly knows this woman who wears Arya Stark's face. As he begins to doubt himself more and more, Gendry becomes obsessed with the strange bells she wears in her hair. - ruthless slightly wonky Arya is my favourite Arya.

Wayfaring, Rainfallen An accidental series centered on the same basic headcanon of how Gendry found himself in the North and how Arya found her way back to it. - wolf girl Wolf Girl WOLF GIRL

Seen, sanctuary_for_all Being important matters less than who you're important to. - He wasn't sure what that verdict was, however, until she returned the unfinished sword to rest position with a deeply satisfied expression. "I am going to kill so many people with that sword." It was probably a bad sign for his long-term sanity that Gendry felt deeply complimented by that. "Happy to help." my useless heart: pikachu face - see! I like fluffy HEAs too

Hearts, sanctuary_for_all Arya comes home to her family. (Future flash) - look, I just think it's really important that even married and with children, Arya continues murdering people uwu

other AUs/misc I'll Run (Run To You), belasteals “You would rather marry a lowborn knight than a high lord, then?” She grinned, all bared teeth and sharp eyes. “I’d rather marry no one at all, else I'd not play at this mummer’s farce.” “What about the man who outruns you?” “Nobody outruns me.” (Greek mythology fusion: Arya as Atalanta, Gendry as Hippomenes. Arya vows only to marry the man who can outrun her in a footrace) - Atalanta, Mononoke, Arya. same energy.

#game of thrones #arya x gendry #gendrya #fic rec #asoiaf #no featherbed

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ladyandtheghost · 6 years ago

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Re: “Kidnap Plot”

I just read a post by the “other side” questioning why the “kidnap plot” is so popular with Jonsas and why we would want our fave to go through this and how this would not do her character any favours (i.e. it puts her back into the damsel-in-distress role) and while I would not want to jump on their post, I think it’s valid point and fair to discuss this.

1. The “kidnap plot” is not half as popular with Jonsas (and especially not Sansa-only stans) in this fandom as the poster makes it out to be. In fact, a lot of people dread seeing Sansa in any form of “danger” again or, as the JD person argued, as a “damsel in distress” .

And I would say that - kidnap or no kidnap - Sansa *is* bound to be in shitloads of danger in Season 8 simply by being alive. Winterfell is going to be a major battle field and she has powerful opponents and enemies simply for who she is and in her position. Unless she dies right away in the WW attack, there is bound to be a scenario in which Sansa is put in a position where her agency and perceived “safety” is taken away again - at least temporarily. She is a major character and what is more: she is important to a lot of other characters, that’s why I think a “kidnap” is very likely...

2. Why is every scenario where a female character is in danger and saved by another character automatically considered to be the much frowned upon “damsel” trope? Brienne-in-the-bear-pit could hold her own against a bear for a minute, but also needed to be “saved” by the male character Jaime, yet we do not think of her as weak or stupid or a cliché. Brienne is a great fighter, yet she needed to be “saved” in the end. What is more: the fact that Jaime saved her only pertained to the romantic-ness of the trope.

3. And while it is a romance trope and could very well support our ship (i.e. if it is Jon who comes to Sansa’s rescue) that is not the main point why I think the “kidnap plot” makes sense and is important: it is about Cersei and Sansa, aka the YMBQ.

The kidnap plot that is supposedly so reactionary and bad for Sansa’s character development is imo going to be her big break. Because Sansa was hiding in Winterfell. It is her home and it is her safe zone, but it is not her destiny to hide from her enemies forever.

The same way that Cersei has unfinished business with Sansa, Sansa also has unfinished business with Cersei, she just hasn’t realized it yet.

I know that D and JD stans like to imagine that *everything* is about their queen and their ship, but fact is that the relationship between the Starks and the Lannisters has zero to do with Dani or Jon*erys. It is one of the central conflicts and needs resolution. Arya is the one who wants to kill Cersei for what she did to the Stark. However, Cersei does not want to kill Arya, what she wants is Sansa.

The reason why some Jonsa and Sansa stans like me do not see the “kidnap plot” as throwing Sansa back into her role from earlier seasons is that while the scenario has not changed and Cersei has not changed, one thing has changed big time:

Sansa.

Of course haters and antis imagine that Sansa would be nothing more than a weak, crying damsel again, because that is ALL they will ever see in her. They refuse to acknowledge that even outside of Winterfell’s safe space, Sansa has changed and will be a strong, clever, calculating force to be reckoned with.

IF Cersei has Sansa “fetched” and brought back to her, she will have brought her own doom back under her roof.

My final point is: the “kidnap plot” (IF it even happens) and an empowerment of Sansa do not have to be mutually exclusive plot points. If you believe that Sansa will let Cersei walk all over her again, then you have probably not paid a lot of attention to her in the past three to four seasons.

Sansa can be both a strong female character who can hold her own against another strong female character and yet be rescued out of her clutches by a male hero without losing her integrity or looking weak.

Everyone is always focused on the possible “rescue” from a possible “kidnap” but what about what happens in between? What about the awesome possibility of seeing Sansa play Cersei like a fiddle, of Sansa outwitting Cersei who forced her to “come” to King’s Landing again to “cast her down.”

I’m here for it, kidnap or no kidnap.

#jonsa #Sansa Stark #sansa stark defense squad

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kitten1618x · 6 years ago

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GoT Afterthoughts ep. 08x02 ‘A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms’ (Jonsa Edition)

Guys this episode was sooooooo good! Okay, okay, okay, let’s unpack here! I have lots of thoughts and since this isn’t broken up into parts, this is going to be a long post, so I’m gonna drop this bad boy under a read more.

We begin in the Great Hall. It appears Jaime is on trial. Queen Dany sits at the head of the table—and imagine having the fucken audacity to sit in Winterfell — in Rickard fucken Starks seat—and in front of his grandchildren, talking about the extermination of Aerys Targaryen like he was some noble king that was just slaughtered by the big bad kingslayer, and NOT the murderous fucken mad Targ king, whom crimes’ you just recently apologized to Jon for, and called him evil to conveniently set yourself apart from him—or did you just forget all that, Dany? Hmmm? IMAGINE the big hairy pair you have to have to actually sit in between the Starks in their own home and utterly disrespect them like that—all while claiming to be in love with one of them? Wow. Just wow. And no, I’m not even sorry for that amazingly clunky run-on sentence, either.

I see that Jaime still has no interest in setting the record straight on why he killed Aerys Targaryen. It appears only Brienne will truly ever know about the millions of people he saved that day in doing so. Jaime stands his ground, though, and gives up Cersei’s plans. Tyrion tries to stand up for him, but Dany cuts him off at the knees (no pun intended), embarrassing him in front of everyone, as per ush.

For a moment her and Sansa have common ground. Sansa doesn’t trust Jaime either because of the wrongs he committed against her family. Jamie won’t apologize for any of it— their houses were at war. But Brienne vouches for him—my courageous, yet shy bb (God, I love her), and Sansa relents, her mind changed when Brienne says she’d fight beside him. Sansa trusts Brienne with her life, therefore Brienne trusting Jaime with hers is good enough for the Lady of Winterfell.

Dany is clearly not pleased with this turn of events. She turns to Jon, addressing him as Warden of the North and asks him what he thinks — assuming he will take her side, but—

He does not.

Dany finally relents as well, grounding out a “very well” between clenched teeth, as Tyrion breathes a sigh of relief that his big bro will not be extra crispy or original recipe’d today. GreyWorm returns Jaime’s sword—rather forcefully, knowing his queen is displeased—as Jaime thanks Dany for her uncharacteristic mercy.

Scene Highlights:

Bran blurting out “the things we do for love” and leaving Jaime shooketh

Sansa immediately standing up and leaving without waiting to be dismissed by the queen, and Jon ducking his head to avoid eye contact and then dipping as soon as Dany turns to face him.

Which takes us into the corridors of Winterfell and Dany resorting to her favorite pastime when she’s angry about things not going her way: berating her Hand in front of everyone. Luckily for Tyrion it’s just Jorah and Varys to witness it this time. Once again she accuses him of treason, and Tyrion is pretty sure that his time as Hand in her service is fast dwindling.

We jump to the forge where Arya stands back admiring Gendry work his magic—a callback to their time at Harrenhall in their younger years. They have a little flirty weaponry banter, and Arya wants to know what the AotD are like. She utters the iconic ‘many faces of death’ lines from the trailer while she impresses Gendry with some dead ass accurate blade throwing. He’ll be getting right on making her that weapon, by the way—and probably walking a little funny while he does it. 😉

Jaime seeks out Bran in the Godswood. He apologizes for what he did and tells Bran he’s not that person anymore. “You still would be if you hadn’t pushed me out that window, and I’d still be Brandon Stark.” Wow. Jaime wants to know why Bran didn’t tell them what he did, and Bran basically tells him it’s because they need him. When Jaime inquires “what about afterwards?” Bran drops an ominous “how do you know there will be an afterwards?”

We jump back to the Winterfell courtyard, where the Lannister brothers are catching up and commiserating about being in Winterfell again. Dany is different, Tyrion tells Jaime, and Jaime doesn’t seem so convinced. Tyrion wants to know if Cersei lied about the baby, and Jaime tells him that was true (as far as he/we know, people). But what I REALLY love about their conversation is this part:

J: She’s always been good at using the truth to tell lies. Don’t be too hard on yourself. She’s fooled me more than anybody.

T: She never fooled you. You always knew exactly what she was, and you loved her anyway.

The funny, or actually ironic thing about this conversation is they’re talking about Cersei, but if you flip the dialogue between the Lannister brothers here, the same could be said for Dany—especially the bolded part. Think back to the things Tyrion said to Jorah when he kidnapped him back in season 5 — he was confused by Jorah’s blind loyalty, too. How the mighty have fallen, Tyrion.

They move their conversation up to the battlements, where Tyrion finds the silver lining that at least he won’t die at Cersei’s hands, and perhaps once he’s torn apart by the dead, he’ll march to Kings Landing and rip her apart too. But he’s talking to himself, because Jaime is too busy watching Brienne supervising the training of her ranks just outside the gates.

And my Braime heart is siiiiiiiinging!!!

He joins her below, and she calls him out for acting weird and not insulting her as per ush. lol It’s really just an adorable little love spat — complete with awkwardness and frustration and plenty of UST. And as the music lulls romantically, he basically admits that she’s the reason he’s here and even though he’s no longer the fighter that he used to be, he‘d be honored to serve under her command if she’ll have him—which is basically fucken a straight up declaration of love, okay? He literally just said—complete with puppy dog eyes—“I love you.” CHANGE MY MIND!!

Brienne is taken aback by this declaration of love and is at loss for words — and so she ducks out, leaving him to watch after her forlornly. And my Braime heart is still siiiiiiiinging!!!!

We head back inside of Winterfell, Dany is alone in her chambers — and they aren’t the Lord’s Chambers, that’s for damn sure. She’s not having a very good day, and her expression here certainly reflects that. Jorah enters, asking her forgiveness, reminding her that forgiveness is important. This leads into a conversation where he basically asks her to take it easy on Tyrion and give him another chance.

While book!Jorah might be a creep, I truly adore show!Jorah, who laments that when he found out Dany gave Tyrion this position, it broke his heart, but he still believes that Tyrion was the right choice; he’s smart, he owns his mistakes and he learns from them.

What I find odd is Dany’s reply: “You’re advising me to forgive the man who stole your position?”

Wait... what? When did Tyrion do that? I recall Dany proudly pinning that golden hand pin on a very humbled Tyrion in the season 6 finale—not some rabid dwarf attacking an unsuspecting Jorah and wrestling the position from his gnarled greyscaled hands—and what-the-ever-living-fuck kind of crazy ass dialogue are they giving this girl?

Jorah has one other suggestion for her, if she’ll allow him such liberties. Annnnnd now the Sansa/Dany scene makes so much more sense. Dany didn’t seek Sansa out of her own accord to try and bridge the icy gap between them because she’s just so humble and wonderful and loving and good!!!! !!!! !!!! It was actually Ser Jorah’s idea.

So Dany takes him up on his suggestion and seeks Sansa out, finding her in the library with Lord Royce. But ahhhh this scene is just so fucken good, so let’s unpack it, shall we?

Dany enters and asks that they speak in private, and Sansa cedes to her wishes, dismissing Lord Royce.

D - I thought you and I were on the verge of agreement before... about Ser Jaime.

S - Brienne has been loyal to me always. I trust her more than anyone.

D - I wish I could have that kind of faith in my advisers.

Here she takes a low blow at Tyrion again, but Sansa defends him.

S - Tyrion is a good man. He was never anything but decent towards me.

D - I didn’t ask him to be my hand simply because he was good. I asked him to be my hand because he was good and intelligent and ruthless when he had to be. (See, I told y’all Tyrion didn’t steal the position... and yes, I’m being petty lol). Dany steps closer into Sansa’s space as she continues. He never should have trusted Cersei.

S - You never should have either.

Sansa drops a truth bomb, insinuating (rightly) that Dany shares the blame here, and Dany doesn’t like this at all. She swallows, containing her anger and paints on a fake smile in her irritation at Sansa’s words.

D - I thought he knew his sister.

S - Families are complicated.

Dany smiles at that and pulls up a seat, indicating for Sansa to do the same.

D - Ours certainly have been.

S - A sad thing to have in common.

D - We have other things in common. We’ve both known what it means to lead people who aren’t inclined to accept a woman’s rule. And we’ve both done a damn good job of it, from what I can tell...

Sansa smiles briefly at this. Clearly, Dany is using the compliment strategy again, but not so shallowly this time. Even if she truly believes this, the commonality of them both being women ruling is where this similarity ends. We’ve seen how differently they run things via season 7’s blatant comparison of ‘the three queens’. Sansa stores food, Cersei steals it, and Dany burns it (and yes, I’m going to keep bringing this up). But honestly, who could forget?

vs.

D - (cont.) ...and yet I can’t help feeling like we’re at odds with each other. Why is that?

Sansa takes a deep breath but doesn’t reply.

D - Your brother?

Yeah y’all, they really did that. But again I say, no love triangle brewing here, folks.

S - He loves you, you know that? *(I’ll address this in a minute)

D - That bothers you?

S - Men do stupid things for women. They’re easily manipulated.

D - All my life I’ve known one goal. The iron throne. Taking it back from the people that destroyed my family, and almost destroyed yours. My war was against them until I met Jon. Now I’m here, half a world away, fighting Jon’s war alongside him. Tell me, who manipulated whom?

Y’all are you serious?!?!? This entire fucken monologue is like literally POLITICAL!JON — I mean, it’s like D&D are literally fucken trolling this relationship so hard. Nothing like hiding some shit right out in plain sight for all the world to not see it. *And if you think for one minute that Sansa is not playing the game here, and that she actually did a complete 180, then I don’t know what to tell you other than, just wait and see.

There was a reason that they cut that office scene between her and Jon in the last episode, and after mulling it over with a few of my comrades, I think that it’s possible that Jon came clean and brought Sansa in on it. They have been a unit since they reunited, and a major part of Sansa’s hostility in the last episode was because she felt Dany was encroaching upon that, and she was losing Jon. Romantic or platonic, no one can deny the dynamic is there between Jon and Sansa. I happen to think it’s romantic, and I will die on this hill—but political!jon and jonsa aren’t mutually exclusive!!! !!! Okay, back to our dialogue.

S - (releases a small laugh and looks down—and I can’t help hearing Catelyn’s voice in my head: ‘you always look at your feet when you lie’) I should have thanked you the moment you arrived. That was a mistake.

D- (reaching down and placing her hand atop of Sansa’s). I’m here because I love your brother, and I trust him. And I know he’s true to his word. He’s only the second man in my life I can say that about.

S - Who was the first?

D- Someone taller.

They both giggle. I assume the other man she’s talking about is Drogo. In any event, I feel Dany is being truly sincere here. This is why people (her stans and the GA both) have a hard time seeing the darkness in her—because one minute she’s sitting narrow-eyed at a table, fighting off a tantrum while she drones on about her father—the fucken mad king—and how her and her brother fantasized about what they would do to the man that murdered him (one can only assume she wasn’t implying knitting him a sweater and mittens), and the next minute she’s all gentle heart and eyes and soft tones about loving and trusting Jon, and giggling with his sister about her ex being much taller than him. I get it. I really do.

But here’s the thing about political!jon that the antis and the jonerii always get wrong—at least the version I subscribe to (and yes, there are several variations of it because we aren’t a hive-mind like we’re always accused of being): Jon has every intention of fulfilling his pledge to Dany and whatever that entails—which is why he keeps trying to convince everyone that she’ll be a good queen (including himself). But he doesn’t love her. He simply used the feelings that he recognized that she had for him, to manipulate her to his cause. This doesn’t mean that he’ll throw her out of winterfell and bone his sister when it’s all said and done—because no, Jon isn’t a creep, but he is actually rather cunning when he deems it necessary.

However, he won’t have to keep up the charade, or boot her ass out of the north, or any of the other things the jonerii accuse us of ‘fantasizing’ about, because Dany is going to go dark, and everyone will see her for what she truly is. So, let’s return to our dialogue so I can get tf off of this scene! lol

~ S - And what happens afterwards? We defeat the dead, you destroy Cersei, what happens then?

D - I take the iron throne.

S - What about the North? (Sansa’s tone drops here as she becomes emotional about her home and her people, the music becomes more ominous as the softness ebbs from Dany’s face). It was taken from us, and we took it back. And we said we’d never bow to anyone else again. (Her tone gets sharper, as she asks again). What about the North?

Dany looks angry now. She’s done playing nice, as she pulls her hand back from Sansa’s. The ominous music drones on as they stare at each other, and the maester interrupts them.~Theon has arrived at Winterfell. The music swells, and Theon looks first to a very visibly emotional Sansa, then Dany, and then back to Sansa again before customarily bowing to and acknowledging his queen. Suddenly Dany gives a flying fuck about her ally and inquires about Yara. Theon explains she’s taken back the Iron Islands in her (Dany’s) name.

“But why aren’t you with her?” Dany asks, confused at his presence, while the music swells again and Theon looks again, to Sansa—and not his queen. Dany of course notices this, and turns to look at Sansa as well, as Theon directly addresses—you guessed it—Sansa, and not his queen: “I want to fight for Winterfell, Lady Sansa. If you’ll have me.”

And oh dear god, I’m so emotional rn, as Sansa’s eyes flood with tears and she runs to envelope Theon in a hug — Theon whom through his own trauma, not only helped to get her away from Ramsay and safely to Jon — but also cared enough for her and the Starks and what he did, to come back and finish making amends!!!! And you know Sansa is so proud of him!!! And I just had a conversation earlier with my bb @scullylikesscience that Theon would likely pledge to protect Bran, and that he will also likely sacrifice himself somehow to save one of the Starks, therefore completing his redemption arc, and I just can’t even rn— 😭😭

Scene Highlights:

Lord Royce leaving only when Sansa dismissed him.

Dany witnessing firsthand the devotion that Sansa and the Starks inspire in people.

Also... don’t forget

We’re back out in the courtyard, where Dadvos is serving up dinner to the Northerners with a side of confidence, and Gilly is advising a woman where to go below in the crypts. A little orphan(?) girl with burns on the side of her face asks Davos where she should go and my fucken heart is shattering again because you know he sees Princess Shireen in her!!!

And Fuck you Bryan Cogman, you’re killing me!!!

She’s not sure where to go because she knows the children are going to the crypts where they’ll be safer, but both of her brothers were soldiers and so she wants to fight too. Auntie Gilly to the rescue: she tells the girl that she’d feel much safer if she was down in the crypts protecting her and her son, and with a purpose, the girl happily accepts her bowl and heads off as Gilly smiles softly at Davos. And god dammit, Liam Cunningham played this scene so well. He literally has me tearing up here!

The horn blows for a new arrival, and Edd is here! The last of the Nights Watch are back together again — and Tormund. lol He glomps Jon, affectionately dubbing him his ‘little crow’, and they let Jon know that Last Hearth is done for and anyone else who’s still out there is pretty much part of the AotD now. They have until sunrise to finish preparing.

And the war council has commenced.~We get a little glimpse of what the NK wants, I guess??? Bran says “he wants to erase this world, and I am its memory.” —but why? And then Sam says something pretty poignant that I want @thelawyerthatwaspromised ‘s thoughts/opinion on: “That’s what death is, isn’t it? Forgetting. Being forgotten. If we forget where we’ve been and what we’ve done, we’re not men anymore, just animals.Your memories don’t come from books, your stories aren’t just stories. If I wanted to erase the world, I may not start with you.”

Pretty sure those that theorized that Sam is writing A Song of Ice and Fire were right, y’all — and with such a ‘poetic’ title, to boot.

They strategize a plan to ferret the NK out using (a volunteering) Bran as bait in the Godswood. Theon volunteers himself and the Iron Born to stay with Bran and protect him (and jfc here comes the end I predicted for Theon and I hate it so much), as Jon shares that taking out the NK will likely diminish the entire army. They cement their battle plans and Dany insists Tyrion stay in the crypts because she intends to keep him on as Hand. Tormund announces that they are all going to die, but at least they’ll die together, and Jon suggests everyone get some rest. Avoiding eye contact with Dany, he utters “your grace,” and then quickly ducks out on her ass again, leaving her looking confused and frustrated.

Scene Highlights:

Jon’s commanding presence in this meeting — even so far as to dismiss everyone, despite the fact that Dany is the queen and supposed to be the one calling the shots. Even her people look to him here for leadership, which is interesting.

Aegon Targaryen and his sister-wives.

Thank you @goodqueenalys ❤️

Alys Karstark making another appearance here, standing beside Theon—yeah, I’m becoming more and more convinced we’re getting a Sansa death fake-out at the expense of this ginger beauty.

We head back out to the courtyard where a lonely looking Missandei attempts to befriend some northern children. Unfortunately, she came with the Dragon Queen, so they want nothing to do with her. Grey Worm joins her and the two make plans to leave for Naath after Dany takes the throne — which means that one of them is probably going to die. Sigh.

Way up high on the ramparts, Sam asks Jon if he’s told Dany yet. He has not, and so Sam prods him a bit — and oh look, there’s Ghost, off to the side looking like they literally photo-shopped him into the scene. 🙄

Edd joins them, and the last of the Watchers On The Wall commiserate, and poke a little fun at Sam. I’m very emotional as Edd says “last man left, burn the rest of us” (which most likely won’t be him) as they pan out to the northern scenery in the distance.

The Lannister boys are reminiscing again, this time by the hearth and are joined by Brienne and Podrick. Momma Brienne allows Pod a half cup of wine (which Tyrion overflows) and Jaime encourages her to join them (smitten fool). She does, as well as Davos and Tormund, too—who is fucken hilarious here as he tries to impress Brienne with one of his tall tales, then sloppily downs his horn of sour goats milk. It’s all rather strange. lol

There’s a brief scene of Arya and the Hound on the ramparts. She wants to know what he’s doing here—when’s the last time he fought for anyone but himself, as to which he replies: “I fought for you, didn’t I?” True enough. Beric joins them and Arya takes her leave, declaring she doesn’t intend to spend her last hours with these two miserable old shits. lol

I’m not sure where she headed off to, but Gendry finds her and presents her with her weapon. Arya wants to know what the red woman wanted with him. He tells her his blood because he’s Robert Baratheon’s bastard — which leads into Arya wanting to know how many women he’s been with. Gendry avoids the question, but Arya persists, many face gaming his ass until he relents. LOL

The number is 3, and Arya wants to be number 4. She wants to know what it’s like before she dies. And holy shit, they went there! They kiss passionately, with Arya taking the lead. She orders him to take his own bloody pants off and takes the bull for a ride—if ya know what I mean... 😉

We return to the group before the hearth in the hall. Tyrion remarks that almost all among them had fought the Starks at some point, and yet, here they all are defending them. But yeah, this story is about a Targaryen restoration.

In their battle banter, it comes up that Brienne is not a Knight—and while Tormund would happily Knight her gorgeous big-womaned ass ten times over, tradition does not allow her to be one because she’s a woman. Oh the irony that the most honorable of them all—the one who actually is a true knight, cannot be named one. Until Jaime says, “hold my beer!” (or wine, rather).

Okay guys, like honestly, this is probably my most favorite scene of the entire series. Everything about it is so beautiful and wholesome, as Jaime declares any Knight can make another Knight and bids Brienne to kneel. She looks to Pod who, with an adoring face, gives her a little nod of encouragement, then she looks to Jaime, and he does the same.

The lovely music, the proud faces of all the men who look on with awe as Brienne kneels and Jaime says the words, pressing his blade gently from one shoulder to the other and makes some fucken Westerosi history when he says proudly: “Arise Brienne of Tarth, a Knight of the Seven Kingdoms.”

Guuuuuuuys!!!! Omg!!!! I’m definitely ugly CRYING here!!!! Brienne’s eyes welling with tears, her proud smile, all these men clapping and their proud faces!!! Yeah, this is definitely 10/10 my most FAVORITE ever GoT scene!!! Just beautiful!

We jump back out to the courtyard where a very adorable and yet insanely stubborn little Lyanna Mormont is arguing with Jorah about going to the crypts. She pledged to fight for the North and she intends to, so she bids her cousin good fortune and leaves to take her place. Sadly, I think that she will not make it through the battle for Winterfell.

Sam has come to give Jorah Heartsbane. This is another very loaded and lovely scene, and my heart is pretty heavy, because I’m not very confident that Jorah will make it out of this battle alive, either. Sam tells him: “your father taught me how to be a man. Taught me how to do what’s right. This is right,” as he presents him the sword. Jorah accepts this heartfelt gesture and declares that he will wield it in his memory, to guard the realms of men.

BRYAN COGMAN!!!! I’M COMING FOR YOU FOR MAKING ME CRY ALL DAMN NIGHT!!!!

But seriously, the dynamic between Jorah and Sam has just been so beautiful. And all the antis can fuck right off with their shit-talking of this beautiful and wholesome creature that is Samwell Tarly!

We jump back to the crew before the hearth who are loathe to call it a night. Tyrion wants a song, and we are treated to Pod’s beautiful rendition of Jenny of Oldstones — and this entire montage is so beautiful, as we see how everyone is prepping for battle, spending their last hours with those they love and saying their goodbyes. The desperation in Missandei and GreyWorm’s very passionate goodbye kiss is extremely moving and makes me think this is probably their final kiss goodbye, and Jorah looks so gallant as he swings ‘round his horse, making his father proud and my heart is just swelling with love and dread and ughhhhhhhh!!!!!

At first I was a bit upset that none of the Starks were actually together here, but in my rewatch, I’ve come to understand why a little bit more. It seems as if they’ve all revisited their own life’s journey prior to coming home (in this episode). Jon, on the ramparts with Ghost and his remaining brothers of the Nights Watch. Arya, first sharing a brief moment with the Hound and Beric (brothers without banners), and then with Gendry. Sansa sharing a meal with Theon out in the courtyard in the home that holds both good and traumatic memories for both of them. He redeemed himself through her (as Jon said), and they share a bond of both surviving Ramsay and his horrors.

Bryan Cogman did NOT disappoint with this lovely episode, which has been what we will surely look back on as a bittersweet eulogy of sorts to some of the beloved characters we’ve come to know over the years. Yeah, this was beautifully done.

Ahhh, and lastly, we delve down into the crypts where Jon stands before the statue of his mother. Dany has very obviously (and understandably) grown tired of being avoided and sought him out. When he acknowledges her presence with a brief glance and a very faint smile, she cautiously moves closer and wraps her arms around him. And yep, here it is—the reveal. I honestly thought he would keep it from her as long as he possibly could, but I guess he figures they might all bite it anyway, so fuck it... (i’m kidding!! Or am i??)

Dany is taken aback by his words. She releases a shuddering breath and immediately steps away from him, denying it: that’s impossible. Jon tells her he wishes it were — and I fully believe him. Aside from the full-on identity crisis he’s been experiencing, you all know he has no interest in the Iron Throne... all this man has ever wanted was to protect his home, and the ones he loves.

Dany thinks there’s a conspiracy against her between Bran and Sam—and now Jon’s tone and demeanor have changed a bit. He takes a step towards her and insists that it’s true, calling her Dany because it’s informal and personal, and he knows now that she’s his aunt—that means she’s still his family—and I think he’s hoping that they’ll still be able to find some common ground with that.

But the fact that she’s found actual family—that she’s not really the last Targaryen alone in the world anymore—doesn’t seem to affect her as much as the fact that Jon is the last male heir of their line, and so therefore his claim for the throne overrides hers. A claim he has expressed no want or intent for, mind you. Maybe he intended to tell her no one would have to know, and he’d never contest her claim if she’d agree to leave the North independent when it’s all said and done... who knows? Certainly not Jon, because it’s clear he’s taken aback by her response here.

D - if it were true, it would make you the last male heir of House Targaryen (she grounds out those bolded words through clenched teeth and Kit’s micro expressions are on point—jfc, Watch his eyes!!). You’d have a claim to the iron throne.

And with the final utterance of Dany’s last words, the war horns sound. As if that doesn’t seem like a harbinger of Targbowl?!?!

But I will say, in my honest and most humble opinion, that his delivery here was all wrong. The way Jon lamented the story, it kind of came off as if it’s something he might have known all along... and therefore she most certainly will feel betrayed at this. Especially considering her earlier conversation with Sansa. Which, the crazy ass irony of it all is, with political!jon, he was actually already betraying her—just not about what she’ll think it was. Did I say that right? lol

They join Tyrion on the Ramparts, the dead are here. Jon looks towards Dany, nodding as if to ask if she’s ready, and she storms off ahead of him, anger evident on her face.

Ahhhhhhhhh, I’m really scared for Jon here, guys...!!! What are your thoughts?

Remember to care for yourselves and stay hydrated as we slug through this hellish week!

ty @farmgirlusa for your dialogue corrections.

#got afterthoughts #episode recap #jonsa #political!jon #dark!dany #anti jonerys #anti targaryen restoration #anti daenerys #not really but you aren't allowed to be critical of her if you're a fan and her behavior was so inappropriate this episode #so i guess it's anti #got s8 ep 2 #got s8

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