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istumpysk · 11 months

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Operation Stumpy Re-Read

TWOW: Theon I

Wouldn't be a Theon chapter if I didn't have to craft a meta-analysis.

His shoulders were on fire and he could not move his hands. For half a heartbeat he feared he was back in his old cell under the Dreadfort, that the jumble of memories inside his head was no more than the residue of some fever dream. I was asleep, he realized. That, or passed out from the pain. When he tried to move, he swung from side to side, his back scraping against stone. He was hanging from a wall inside a tower, his wrists chained to a pair of rusted iron rings.

Admit it, for a second you thought you had mistakenly stumbled back into the Forsaken.

+.+.+

The king's voice was choked with anger. "You are a worse pirate than Salladhor Saan." [...] "My brother's debts," the king was muttering. "Joffrey's too, though that baseborn abomination was no kin to me." Theon twisted in his chains. He knew that voice. Stannis. [...] "I know a quicker way." Stannis drew his dagger. For an instant Theon thought that he meant to stab the banker. You will never get a drop of blood from that one, my lord, he might have told him. The king laid the blade of the knife against the ball of his left thumb, and slashed. "There. I will sign in mine own blood. That ought to make your masters happy." [...] The Braavosi slipped the roll of parchment inside a wooden tube. "I hope to have the honor of calling on Your Grace again when you are seated on your Iron Throne."

In case you're not up to date, Tycho Nestoris, a representative of the Iron Bank, has successfully located Stannis in the middle of nowhere. The two parties have entered into an agreement, where Stannis pledges to pay off the Iron Throne's outstanding debts to the Iron Bank in return for financial assistance to win the war. Way to go, Cersei.

Speaking of Salladhor Saan, I would have advised Tycho Nestoris to find out from him how good Stannis is at paying back his debts.

"Salladhor the Smashed. Where are my ships? And my gold, where is all the gold that I was promised?" When Davos had tried to assure him that he would have his payment, Salla had erupted. "When, when? On the morrow, on the new moon, when the red comet comes again? He is promising me gold and gems, always promising, but this gold I have not seen. I have his word, he is saying, oh yes, his royal word, he writes it down. Can Salladhor Saan eat the king's word? Can he quench his thirst with parchments and waxy seals? Can he tumble promises into a feather bed and fuck them till they squeal?" - Davos I, ADWD

+.+.+

"And the grandsons. Lord Wull seeks audience as well. He wants—" "I know what he wants." The king indicated Theon. "Him. Wull wants him dead. Flint, Norrey… all of them will want him dead. For the boys he slew. Vengeance for their precious Ned."

Ned Stark continues to live rent free in Stannis' head.

+.+.+

Crowfood. Theon remembered. An old man, huge and powerful, with a ruddy face and a shaggy white beard. He had been seated on a garron, clad in the pelt of a gigantic snow bear, its head his hood. Under it he wore a stained white leather eye patch that reminded Theon of his uncle Euron. He'd wanted to rip it off Umber's face, to make certain that underneath was only an empty socket, not a black eye shining with malice. Instead he had whimpered through his broken teeth and said, "I am—" "—a turncloak and a kinslayer," Crowfood had finished. "You will hold that lying tongue, or lose it."

Asha didn't recognize Theon, but somehow Mors Umber could.

We've already covered Mors calling Theon a kinslayer in previous chapters (here, here, and here). I believe the northerners view Theon as an adopted brother to Bran and Rickon. I don't think it has any deeper significance.

+.+.+

Crowfood had fingered his beard. "Dead now, I suppose. That smith of yours as well. A man who knew his steel. What was his name?" Jeyne had hesitated. Mikken, Theon thought. His name was Mikken. The castle blacksmith had never made any lemoncakes for Sansa, which made him far less important than the castle cook in the sweet little world she had shared with her friend Jeyne Poole. Remember, damn you. Your father was the steward, he had charge of the whole household. The smith's name was Mikken, Mikken, Mikken. I had him put to death before me! "Mikken," Jeyne said.

I call that having the right priorities. If there were more cake and fewer weapons, the world would be a better place.

+.+.+

Theon twisted in his chains, and blinked down at the king. "Crowfood found us, yes, he sent us here to you, but it was me who saved her. Ask her yourself." She would tell him. "You saved me," Jeyne had whispered, as he was carrying her through the snow.

First Small Paul, and now this. Does George not grasp how difficult it is to walk through snow that's up to your waist?

+.+.+

"Unchain me, and I will serve you." "As you served Roose Bolton and Robb Stark?" Stannis snorted. "I think not. We have a warmer end in mind for you, turncloak. But not until we're done with you." He means to kill me. The thought was queerly comforting. Death did not frighten Theon Greyjoy. Death would mean an end to pain. "Be done with me, then," he urged the king. "Take off my head off and stick it on a spear. I slew Lord Eddard's sons, I ought to die. But do it quick. He is coming."

Very on brand for a Greyjoy to be wishing for his own death.

This is how I know Victarion murder-suicides.

+.+.+

"Maester Tybald," announced the knight of the moths. The maester sank to his knees. He was red-haired and round-shouldered, with close-set eyes that kept flicking toward Theon hanging on the wall. "Your Grace. How may I be of service?" [...] "A maester's raven flies to one place, and one place only. Is that correct?" The maester mopped sweat from his brow with his sleeve. "N-not entirely, Your Grace. Most, yes. Some few can be taught to fly between two castles. Such birds are greatly prized. And once in a very great while, we find a raven who can learn the names of three or four or five castles, and fly to each upon command. Birds as clever as that come along only once in a hundred years."

Maester Tybald is Arnolf Karstark's maester. Arnolf and his men have recently joined Stannis Baratheon's forces in the village.

In case you're not up to date, it turns out that Arnolf Karstark remains loyal to Roose Bolton instead of Stannis. Jon Snow, after learning this from Alys Karstark, sent a letter to Stannis, warning him about Arnolf Karstark's intended betrayal.

Clydas had dispatched a raven to Deepwood Motte to warn the king of Arnolf Karstark's treachery, but whether the bird had reached His Grace in time Jon did not know. - Jon X, ADWD

The bird reached its destination in time.

+.+.+

[...] Birds as clever as that come along only once in a hundred years." Stannis gestured at the black birds in the cages. "These two are not so clever, I presume."

Oh, I think those ravens are more clever than you realize, Stannis.

+.+.+

"Tell me, then. Where are these two trained to fly?" Maester Tybald did not answer. Theon Greyjoy kicked his feet feebly, and laughed under his breath. Caught! "Answer me. If we were to loose these birds, would they return to the Dreadfort?" The king leaned forward. "Or might they fly for Winterfell instead?" Maester Tybald pissed his robes. Theon could not see the dark stain spreading from where he hung, but the smell of piss was sharp and strong. [...] "The rules of my order forbid me to divulge the contents of Lord Arnolf's letters." "Your vows are stronger than your bladder, it would seem." "Your Grace must understand—" "Must I?" The king shrugged. "If you say so. You are a man of learning, after all. I had a maester on Dragonstone who was almost a father to me. I have great respect for your order and its vows. Ser Clayton does not share my feelings, though. He learned all he knows in the wynds of Flea Bottom. Were I to put you in his charge, he might strangle you with your own chain or scoop your eye out with a spoon."

Feel free to journey back in time and witness how Stannis treated this father figure.

Reluctantly, I must credit Stannis for recognizing the value of maesters. Blech!

+.+.+

"How many eyes does a maester need to read a letter?" asked Stannis. "One should suffice, I'd think. I would not wish to leave you unable to fulfill your duties to your lord. Roose Bolton's men may well be on their way to attack us even now, however, so you must understand if I skimp on certain courtesies. I will ask you once again. What was in the message you sent to Winterfell?" The maester quivered. "A m-map, Your Grace."

That bird also reached its destination.

Lord Bolton unrolled the parchment. "His host lies not three days' ride from here, snowbound and starving, and I for one am tired of waiting on his pleasure. [...]" - Theon I, ADWD

+.+.+

Stannis nodded. "You [Justin Massey] will escort the Braavosi banker back to the Wall. Choose six good men and take twelve horses." "To ride or eat?" The king was not amused.

Lmao.

+.+.+

"Your place is where I say it is. I have five hundred swords as good as you, or better, but you have a pleasing manner and a glib tongue, and those will be of more use to me at Braavos then here. The Iron Bank has opened its coffers to me. You will collect their coin and hire ships and sellswords. A company of good repute, if you can find one. The Golden Company would be my first choice, if they are not already under contract. Seek for them in the Disputed Lands, if need be. But first hire as many swords as you can find in Braavos, and send them to me by way of Eastwatch. Archers as well, we need more bows." Ser Justin's hair had fallen down across one eye. He pushed it back and said, "The captains of the free companies will join a lord more readily than a mere knight, Your Grace. I hold neither lands nor title, why should they sell their swords to me?" "Go to them with both fists full of golden dragons," the king said, in an acid tone. "That should prove persuasive. Twenty thousand men should suffice. Do not return with fewer."

In case you're not up to date, Cersei Lannister has sent Harys Swyft to Braavos to secure gold for the crown and potentially buy swords. I'm not sure if it's worth noting that unlike Justin Massey, Harys Swyft does possess titles and land.

It's not immediately apparent why the Iron Bank would help Cersei after she ceased making payments towards the Iron Throne's debt, but it is possible Arya killing one of her envoys while they're doing business with the Iron Bank could favour Cersei.

This would make trouble for the Sealord and the envoy with the chicken on his chest, she did not doubt. - Mercy, TWOW

+.+.+

"Your Grace should go to Braavos with the banker." "Is that your counsel? That I should flee?" The king's face darkened. "That was your counsel on the Blackwater as well, as I recall. When the battle turned against us, I let you and Horpe chivvy me back to Dragonstone like a whipped cur."

That was the right call, doofus.

I love when there's a designated Voice of Reason! Justin Massey, Gerris Drinkwater, Daemon Sand - they make my life so easy.

What did we learn? We learned that the small victory Stannis will achieve in this village will inevitably be followed by failure, and he should have went to Braavos.

+.+.+

"… to raise an army, aye. As Bittersteel did after the Battle of the Redgrass Field, where Daemon Blackfyre fell." "Do not prate at me of history, ser. Daemon Blackfyre was a rebel and usurper, Bittersteel a bastard. When he fled, he swore he would return to place a son of Daemon's upon the Iron Throne. He never did. Words are wind, and the wind that blows exiles across the narrow sea seldom blows them back. That boy Viserys Targaryen spoke of return as well. He slipped through my fingers at Dragonstone, only to spend his life wheedling after sellswords. 'The Beggar King,' they called him in the Free Cities. Well, I do not beg, nor will I flee again. I am Robert's heir, the rightful king of Westeros. My place is with my men. Yours is in Braavos. Go with the banker, and do as I have bid."

You've got to admire a guy who's willing to go down with the ship!

(I'm sure you get the point by now, but Blackfyre history always has the potential of being fAegon evidence.)

+.+.+

"It may be that we shall lose this battle," the king said grimly. "In Braavos you may hear that I am dead. It may even be true. You shall find my sellswords nonetheless." The knight hesitated. "Your Grace, if you are dead—" "—you will avenge my death, and seat my daughter on the Iron Throne. Or die in the attempt."

Is there a backup plan?

I must admit, I have no idea where the Massey side plot goes once Shireen and Stannis are dead.

+.+.+

"Oh, and take the Stark girl with you. Deliver her to Lord Commander Snow on your way to Eastwatch." Stannis tapped the parchment that lay before him. "A true king pays his debts." [...] "The ironmen are to remain here, supposedly to fight for us. Another gift from Tycho Nestoris. Just as well, they would only slow you down. Ironmen were made for ships, not horses. Lady Arya should have a female companion as well. Take Alysane Mormont."

Have you ever noticed that people who claim to pay their debts often fail to pay their debts?

I've already explained why Jeyne Poole is not the girl in grey, but what I forgot to mention in that post is that it's unlikely Justin Massey, Tycho Nestoris, and Alysane Mormont die during their journey to the Wall.

+.+.+

"One day Your Grace will need to take the Iron Islands. That will go much easier with Balon Greyjoy's daughter as a catspaw, with one of your own leal men as her lord husband." "You?" The king scowled. "The woman is wed, Justin." "A proxy marriage, never consummated. Easily set aside. The groom is old besides. Like to die soon." From a sword through his belly if you have your way, ser worm. Theon knew how these knights thought. Stannis pressed his lips together. "Serve me well in this matter of the sellswords, and you may have what you desire. Until such time, the woman must needs remain my captive."

There they go setting aside marriages again. And look, Theon's being an overly-protective brother! How sweet.

I question whether Stannis truly intends to spare Asha, so I'm not sure why he's making this promise.

+.+.+

Stannis Baratheon paced the floor. The tower was a small one, dank and cramped. A few steps brought the king around to Theon. "How many men does Bolton have at Winterfell?" "Five thousand. Six. More." He gave the king a ghastly grin, all shattered teeth and splinters. "More than you." "How many of those is he like to send against us?" "No more than half."

The Stark loyalists, and the Knights of the Vale will molly whop three thousand Bolton men, but only if Roose lets them leave the protection of the castle.

+.+.+

That was a guess, admittedly, but it felt right to him. Roose Bolton was not a man to blunder blindly out into the snow, map or no. He would hold his main strength in reserve, keep his best men with him, trust in Winterfell's massive double wall.

Looks like we're going to need someone to kill Roose!

Perhaps then, someone will be stupid enough to abandon the walls of Winterfell.

"Now is the time to smash him. Let me [Ramsay Bolton] march on Deepwood."

[...]

We would be fools to march on Stannis. Let Stannis march on us. - Reek III, ADWD

+.+.+

"Wyman Manderly." The king's mouth twisted in contempt. "Lord Too-Fat-to-Sit-a-Horse. Too fat to come to me, yet he comes to Winterfell. Too fat to bend the knee and swear me his sword, yet now he wields that sword for Bolton. I sent my Onion Lord to treat with him, and Lord Too-Fat butchered him and mounted his head and hands on the walls of White Harbor for the Freys to gloat over. And the Freys… has the Red Wedding been forgotten?" "The north remembers. The Red Wedding, Lady Hornwood's fingers, the sack of Winterfell, Deepwood Motte and Torrhen's Square, they remember all of it." Bran and Rickon. They were only miller's boys. "Frey and Manderly will never combine their strengths. They will come for you, but separately. Lord Ramsay will not be far behind them. He wants his bride back. He wants his Reek." Theon's laugh was half a titter, half a whimper. "Lord Ramsay is the one Your Grace should fear."

Does Theon know what's going on with Wyman Manderly?

Lord Ramsay will not be far behind them. He wants his bride back. He wants his Reek.

↓

I want my bride back. I want the false king's queen. I want his daughter and his red witch. I want his wildling princess. I want his little prince, the wildling babe. And I want my Reek. - Jon XIII, ADWD

Good call, Theon. Still amusing people think anyone other than Ramsay wrote the Pink Letter.

+.+.+

Theon Greyjoy chortled.

I know what that says, he thought, giggling.

Theon Greyjoy kicked his feet feebly, and laughed under his breath.

Theon's laugh was half a titter, half a whimper.

He grinned at his own wit.

Theon tittered.

Smiler's feeling like himself again.

Theon would have laughed aloud if he'd remembered how. - A Ghost in Winterfell, ADWD

+.+.+

Stannis bristled at that. "I defeated your uncle Victarion and his Iron Fleet off Fair Isle, the first time your father crowned himself. I held Storm's End against the power of the Reach for a year, and took Dragonstone from the Targaryens. I smashed Mance Rayder at the Wall, though he had twenty times my numbers. Tell me, turncloak, what battles has the Bastard of Bolton ever won that I should fear him?" You must not call him that! A wave of pain washed over Theon Greyjoy. He closed his eyes and grimaced. When he opened them again, he said, “You do not know him.”

"No more than he knows me."

Woah, is that Stannis and Theon, or Jon and Sansa? Smells like merging storylines, and characters!

And here I thought Jon and Sansa's nonsensical, contrived drama came straight from the author.

Theon and Stannis are both correct: Stannis doesn't know Ramsay, and Ramsay doesn't know Stannis.

Below, you'll discover how Stannis will successfully deceive the forces of House Frey. However, I fully anticipate Ramsay Bolton will return the favour. How else do we get to a point where he's burning his daughter alive?

You think he's going to fall into your trap. He won't. He's the one who lays traps. - Sansa Stark (Theon??)

I never considered this before, but Sansa and Jon might need Theon's knowledge to beat Ramsay. Good thing he cancelled his trip to Meereen!

(Suddenly, the thing I need most in life is Theon being forced to watch Sansa and Jon fall in love.)

+.+.+

Lord Arnolf's cloak was fine grey wool, bordered in black sable and clasped with a silver starburst. A rich garment, Theon thought, on a poor excuse for a man. He had seen that cloak before, he knew, just as he had seen the man who wore it. At the Dreadfort. I remember. He sat and supped with Lord Ramsay and Whoresbane Umber, the night they brought Reek up from his cell. The man beside him could only be his son. Fifty, Theon judged, with a round soft face like his father's, if Lord Arnolf went to fat. Behind him walked three younger men. The grandsons, he surmised. One wore a chainmail byrnie. The rest were dressed for breakfast, not for battle. Fools. [...] A dozen men had filed through the tower door, led by the knight of the moths and the big man in the silvered breastplate. "You are dead men, understand that," the king went on.

It looks bad for Arnolf Karstark now, but there's foreshadowing that suggests the Arnolf Karstark faction will fight the Alys Karstark faction in the battle for Winterfell.

+.+.+

"That Braavosi banker claimed Ser Aenys Frey is dead. Did some boy do that?" "Twenty green boys, with spades," Theon told him. "The snow fell heavily for days. So heavily that you could not see the castle walls ten yards away, no more than the men up on the battlements could see what was happening beyond those walls. So Crowfood set his boys to digging pits outside the castle gates, then blew his horn to lure Lord Bolton out. Instead he got the Freys. The snow had covered up the pits, so they rode right into them. Aenys broke his neck, I heard, but Ser Hosteen only lost a horse, more's the pity. He will be angry now." Strangely, Stannis smiled. "Angry foes do not concern me. Anger makes men stupid, and Hosteen Frey was stupid to begin with, if half of what I have heard of him is true. Let him come." "He will." "Bolton has blundered," the king declared. "All he had to do was sit inside his castle whilst we starved. Instead he has sent some portion of his strength forth to give us battle. His knights will be horsed, ours must fight afoot. His men will be well nourished, ours go into battle with empty bellies. It makes no matter. Ser Stupid, Lord Too-Fat, the Bastard, let them come. We hold the ground, and that I mean to turn to our advantage."

"The ground?" said Theon. "What ground? Here? This misbegotten tower? This wretched little village? You have no high ground here, no walls to hide beyond, no natural defenses." "Yet."

Lol, picture digging a pit into the frozen, unyielding ground during a storm like this. Oh, George.

Welcome to the Night Lamp theory*!

*Otherwise known as the one time the ASoIaF community pooled their combined three brain cells, and managed to correctly predict the future.

If you wish to read the original theory (which features fancy images depicting battle formations!), you can do so here.

True to form, the theory is unnecessarily long-winded, overflowing with wishful conjecture, and packed with Stannis Baratheon dick sucking.

Let's simplify this.

What is the Night Lamp theory?

In a nutshell, Stannis Baratheon, stuck in an abandoned village, will use a false beacon to lure an oncoming army onto a frozen lake that's weakened, and ready to crack.

I'm having a difficult time visualizing this.

No problem, allow me to borrow an image from a meta I just talked shit about.

See the weirwood island surrounded by a lake?

The crofter's village stood between two lakes, the larger dotted with small wooded islands that punched up through the ice like the frozen fists of some drowned giant. From one such island rose a weirwood gnarled and ancient, its bole and branches white as the surrounding snows. - The Sacrifice, ADWD

If you extinguish the light in the watchtower, and create a new false light on that island, you've got yourself a pretty neat little trap.

Isn't Stannis in the middle of nowhere, how could any army hope to find him?

I see you've decided to scroll past the rest of the summary. I understand.

Above, we learned double agent Arnolf Karstark had his maester send a map to Roose Bolton, alerting him of Stannis' whereabouts.

"[...] I will ask you once again. What was in the message you sent to Winterfell?"

The maester quivered. "A m-map, Your Grace." - Theon I, TWOW

They're coming.

Who is coming?

That would be the men serving House Frey, and House Manderly.

Lord Bolton unrolled the parchment. "His host lies not three days' ride from here, snowbound and starving, and I for one am tired of waiting on his pleasure. Ser Hosteen, assemble your knights and men-at-arms by the main gates. As you are so eager for battle, you shall strike our first blow. Lord Wyman, gather your White Harbor men by the east gate. They shall go forth as well." - Theon I, ADWD

Though, our main focus is House Frey.

Manderly's forces are separated from House Frey's.

Lord Wyman Manderly slapped his massive belly. "White Harbor does not fear to ride with you, Ser Hosteen. Lead us out, and my knights will ride behind you."

Ser Hosteen turned on the fat man. "Close enough to drive a lance through my back, aye. Where are my kin, Manderly? Tell me that. Your guests, who brought your son back to you." - A Ghost in Winterfell, ADWD

"Frey and Manderly will never combine their strengths. They will come for you, but separately. Lord Ramsay will not be far behind them. He wants his bride back. He wants his Reek." - Theon I, TWOW

And Manderly is no ally to House Bolton or House Frey.

The Frey men wore the badge of the two towers, those from White Harbor displayed merman and trident. They shouldered through the storm in opposite directions and eyed each other warily as they passed, but no swords were drawn. Not here. It may be different out there in the woods. - Theon I, ADWD

How do we know Frey men will be the victims?

Because the author keeps telling us these riverlanders are way out of their element.

Theon Greyjoy did not join the uproar. Neither did the men of House Frey, he did not fail to note. They are strangers here as well, he thought, watching Ser Aenys Frey and his half-brother Ser Hosteen. Born and bred in the riverlands, the Freys had never seen a snow like this. The north has already claimed three of their blood, Theon thought, recalling the men that Ramsay had searched for fruitlessly, lost between White Harbor and Barrowton. - The Turncloak, ADWD

A few of the older men spoke of other snowstorms and insisted this was no more than a light dusting compared to what they'd seen in the winters of their youth. The riverlanders were aghast. They have no love of snow and cold, these southron swords. - The Turncloak, ADWD

No less a man than Hosteen Frey, who had been heard growling that he did not fear a little snow, lost an ear to frostbite. - A Ghost in Winterfell, ADWD

And their new commander, Hosteen Frey, is known for being a tad slow.

Hosteen was a bull, slow to anger but implacable once roused, and by repute the fiercest fighter of Lord Walder's get. Aenys was older, crueler, and more clever—a commander, not a swordsman. Both were seasoned soldiers. - Reek II, ADWD

Aenys broke his neck, I heard, but Ser Hosteen only lost a horse, more's the pity. He will be angry now."

Strangely, Stannis smiled. "Angry foes do not concern me. Anger makes men stupid, and Hosteen Frey was stupid to begin with, if half of what I have heard of him is true. Let him come." - Theon I, TWOW

So what proof do we have?

Well, we know beacons are often used for navigation.

They reached Oldtown on a cold damp morning, when the fog was so thick that the beacon of the Hightower was the only part of the city to be seen. - Samwell V, AFFC

However, sometimes false beacons are employed for nefarious purposes.

The beacons that burned along the shores of the Three Sisters were supposed to warn of shoals and reefs and rocks and lead the way to safety, but on stormy nights and foggy ones, some Sistermen would use false lights to draw unwary captains to their doom. - Davos I, ADWD

Something the former master of ships is well aware of.

As for your King Stannis, when he was Robert's master of ships he sent a fleet into my port without my leave and made me hang a dozen fine friends. Men like you. He went so far as to threaten to hang me if it should happen that some ship went aground because the Night Lamp had gone black. - Davos I, ADWD

This is a similar tactic to the one Mors Umber uses outside the gates of Winterfell, which was just communicated to Stannis in the passage above.

So Crowfood set his boys to digging pits outside the castle gates, then blew his horn to lure Lord Bolton out. Instead he got the Freys. The snow had covered up the pits, so they rode right into them. - Theon I, TWOW

And believe it or not, a similar incident occurred with Stannis' own baggage train before arriving at the village.

On the fifth day of the storm, the baggage train crossed a rippling expanse of waist-high snowdrifts that concealed a frozen pond. When the hidden ice cracked beneath the weight of the wagons, three teamsters and four horses were swallowed up by the freezing water, along with two of the men who tried to rescue them. - The King's Prize, ADWD

Starting to feel a bit excessive, isn't it?

But they have a map!

Silly goose.

The map is not the land, my father often said. - Jon IV, ADWD

Doesn't this rely on extremely heavy snowfall to work?

As luck would have it, an overwhelming amount of snowfall is taking place right now.

In this storm, the only visible landmark is the watchtower's beacon.

The lakes had vanished, and the woods as well. She could see the shapes of other tents and lean-tos and the fuzzy orange glow of the beacon fire burning atop the watchtower, but not the tower itself. The storm had swallowed the rest. - The King's Prize, ADWD

She was lost before she had gone ten yards. Asha could see the beacon fire burning atop the watchtower, a faint orange glow floating in the air. Elsewise the village was gone. She was alone in a white world of snow and silence, plowing through snowdrifts as high as her thighs. - The Sacrifice, ADWD

If the storm is this bad, why would the lake's ice break?

Because Stannis Baratheon's men don't believe in sustainable fishing practices.

They had spent most of it out on the ice, shivering beside a pair of holes they'd cut in the smaller of the frozen lakes, with fishing lines clutched in mitten-clumsy hands. - The Sacrifice, ADWD

"I know them lakes. You been on them like maggots on a corpse, hundreds o' you. Cut so many holes in the ice it's a bloody wonder more haven't fallen through. Out by the island, there's places look like a cheese the rats been at." - The Sacrifice, ADWD

Stannis knows the ice is weak.

Ser Stupid, Lord Too-Fat, the Bastard, let them come. We hold the ground, and that I mean to turn to our advantage."

"The ground?" said Theon. - Theon I, TWOW

And we all know what happens on thin ice!

Guest right or no, Jon Snow knew he walked on rotten ice here. One false step and he might plunge through, into water cold enough to stop his heart. - Jon I, ASOS

True death came suddenly; he felt a shock of cold, as if he had been plunged into the icy waters of a frozen lake. - Prologue, ADWD

We are dancing on rotten ice here, them and us. One crack, and we all drown. - Jon XII, ADWD

How do we know a false beacon is involved?

Here's the thing, Stannis has a brand new fixation, and 2 + 2 equals 4.

Afterward the king had retreated to his watchtower. He had not emerged since … though from time to time His Grace was glimpsed upon the tower roof, outlined against the beacon fire that burned there night and day. - The Sacrifice, ADWD

Wordless, King Stannis walked away, back to the solitude of his watchtower. Back to his beacon fire, Asha knew, to search the flames for answers. - The Sacrifice, ADWD

How does he have enough time to build a new watchtower with a false light?

This is where I differ in opinion from the rest. Many in the fandom have speculated he'll burn the sacred weirwood tree, or a person (Theon). A hallmark of heroism, wouldn't you agree?

I personally believe there's a far better alternative that's smacking people right in the face.

"It glows," said Sam, in a hushed voice. "As if it were on fire. There are no flames, but the steel is yellow and red and orange, all flashing and glimmering, like sunshine on water, but prettier. I wish you could see it, Maester." - Samwell V, ADWD

The sword glowed red and yellow and orange, alive with light. Jon had seen the show before … but not like this, never before like this. Lightbringer was the sun made steel. When Stannis raised the blade above his head, men had to turn their heads or cover their eyes. Horses shied, and one threw his rider. The blaze in the fire pit seemed to shrink before this storm of light, like a small dog cowering before a larger one. The Wall itself turned red and pink and orange, as waves of color danced across the ice. - Jon III, ADWD

That wouldn't be the first time we connected towers, beacons, and swords.

And beyond, where the Honeywine widened into Whispering Sound, rose the Hightower, its beacon fires bright against the dawn. From where it stood atop the bluffs of Battle Island, its shadow cut the city like a sword. - Prologue, AFFC

Is there any part of the theory you're unsure about?

Always!

What will happen to House Manderly's men? Who knows! What action will Ramsay take when he approaches the village? Beats me!

But set that aside for a moment, because there's something even more significant to consider.

I'm getting a bit ahead of myself, but later in this chapter, you'll witness Bran attempting to communicate a message to Theon concerning the weirwood tree.

"The tree," one squawked, "the tree, the tree," whilst the second screamed only, "Theon, Theon, Theon." - Theon I, TWOW

You may recall that Bran once found himself in a situation similar to the one in which Theon currently finds himself.

The water was frozen, and the snow had been falling for so long that Bran had lost count of the days, turning the lake into a vast white wilderness. Where the ice was flat and the ground was bumpy, the going was easy, but where the wind had pushed the snow up into ridges, sometimes it was hard to tell where the lake ended and the shore began. Even the trees were not as infallible a guide as they might have hoped, for there were wooded islands in the lake, and wide areas ashore where no trees grew. - Bran I, ADWD

As the first sliver of a crescent moon came peeking through the clouds, they finally stumbled into the village by the lake. They had almost walked straight through it. From the ice, the village looked no different than a dozen other spots along the lakeshore. Buried under drifts of snow, the round stone houses could just as easily have been boulders or hillocks or fallen logs [...]. - Bran I, ADWD

And on several occasions, there are hints of someone (Bran, always Bran) watching the events unfold.

"Aye," said Big Bucket Wull. "Red Rahloo means nothing here. You will only make the old gods angry. They are watching from their island." - The Sacrifice, ADWD

Sword in hand, he strode through the snow, putting himself between the riders and the king's tower, its beacon glimmering behind him like the orange eye of some strange god. - The Sacrifice, ADWD

What role will Bran, Theon, and Asha play in all of this? I couldn't tell you.

What I can tell you is that the ASoIaF community has overlooked this question entirely, because they wholeheartedly believe Stannis Baratheon is the main character of the story.

Okay, got it. But what happens after, does Stannis win?

Ha ha ha! God, no.

Following his brief moment of success, Stannis will quickly resume his losing streak in this war. He will resort to the horrific act of sacrificing his own daughter by fire, will fail to win back Winterfell, and then finally meet a gruesome demise, because he's one of the bad guys.

Jon and Sansa Stark will then successfully reclaim Winterfell, because duh.

The end.

+.+.+

You have no high ground here, no walls to hide beyond, no natural defenses."

"Yet."

"Yet," both ravens screamed in unison. Then one quorked, and the other muttered, "Tree, tree, tree."

That's strange, who said anything about a tree?

Huh??

+.+.+

My sister, Theon thought, my sweet sister. Though he had lost all feeling in his arms, he felt the twisting in his gut, the same as when that bloodless Braavosi banker presented him to Asha as a 'gift.' The memory still rankled. The burly, balding knight who'd been with her had wasted no time shouting for help, so they'd had no more than a few moments before Theon was dragged away to face the king. That was long enough. He had hated the look on Asha's face when she realized who he was; the shock in her eyes, the pity in her voice, the way her mouth twisted in disgust. Instead of rushing forward to embrace him, she had taken half a step backwards. "Did the Bastard do this to you?" she had asked.

Aw, too bad. It would have been lovely to see a sister embrace her brother in such a way.

+.+.+

Then the words came spilling out of Theon in a rush. He tried to tell her all of it, about Reek and the Dreadfort and Kyra and the keys, how Lord Ramsay never took anything but skin unless you begged for it.

[...]

She has to understand. She is my sister. He never wanted to do any harm to Bran or Rickon. Reek made him kill those boys, not him Reek but the other one. "I am no kinslayer," he insisted.

I'm not sure if it's important, but it's implied Asha now knows Bran and Rickon are alive.

+.+.+

The memory left Theon writhing in his chains. "Let me down," he pleaded. "Just for a little while, then you can hang me up again." Stannis Baratheon looked up at him, but did not answer. "Tree," a raven cried. "Tree, tree, tree."

Then other bird said, "Theon," clear as day, as Asha came striding through the door.

That's strange, how do Arnolf Karstark's ravens know Theon's name?

What??

+.+.+

She stood. "The Braavosi ransomed my seven of my men from Lady Glover. I would gladly pay a ransom for my brother." "There is not enough gold on all your Iron Islands. Your brother's hands are soaked with blood. Farring is urging me to give him to R'hllor."

Quick reminder for anyone who forgot: this is the same guy who used blood magic to kill his brother, wanted to kill his nephew, and will eventually kill his daughter.

There's only one kinslayer in the room, and it's not Theon Greyjoy.

Anyway, no chance Stannis kills Asha or Theon. Maybe they escape during all the commotion?

+.+.+

"Wise. I am sorry for your mother, but I do not spare the lives of turncloaks. This one, especially. He slew two sons of Eddard Stark. Every northman in my service would abandon me if I showed him any clemency. Your brother must die." "Then do the deed yourself, Your Grace." The chill in Asha's voice made Theon shiver in his chains. "Take him out across the lake to the islet where the weirwood grows, and strike his head off with that sorcerous sword you bear. That is how Eddard Stark would have done it. Theon slew Lord Eddard's sons. Give him to Lord Eddard's gods. The old gods of the north. Give him to the tree."

I don't think Asha has a plan, I think she's trying to save him from a gruesome death.

+.+.+

And suddenly there came a wild thumping, as the maester's ravens hopped and flapped inside their cages, their black feathers flying as they beat against the bars with loud and raucous caws. "The tree," one squawked, "the tree, the tree," whilst the second screamed only, "Theon, Theon, Theon." Theon Greyjoy smiled. They know my name, he thought.

Again with this tree. I don't understand.

BRAN?!

Final thoughts:

The tried and true method of George R.R. Martin: foreshadowing one singular event with 10,000 words of text.

Your Lovecraftian Curtain of Light bullshit theory is bad.

ps. Despite all the work, I really enjoyed Theon's POV after his first three chapters. He still sucks.

Next chapter: Asha I (fragment) - shut up, we're doing it.

-> return to menu <-

#operation stumpy re-read #twow #theon i

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istumpysk · 1 year

Text

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

ADWD: Theon I (Theon VII) [Chapter 51]

Theon I otherwise known as A Ghost in Winterfell Part II.

If you haven't already, I strongly recommend reading that post before this one.

So we're all on the same page, I will be operating under the assumption that Theon is both the Hooded Man and the ghost in Winterfell.

"The storm will end today," one of the surviving stableboys was insisting loudly. "Why, it isn't even winter." Theon would have laughed if he had dared. He remembered tales Old Nan had told them of storms that raged for forty days and forty nights, for a year, for ten years … storms that buried castles and cities and whole kingdoms under a hundred feet of snow.

He's getting closer and closer to calling someone a sweet summer child.

+.+.+

He sat in the back of the Great Hall, not far from the horses, watching Abel, Rowan, and a mousy brown-haired washerwoman called Squirrel attack slabs of stale brown bread fried in bacon grease.

Why is there an Arya wildling?

+.+.+

Roose Bolton entered, pale-eyed and yawning, accompanied by his plump and pregnant wife, Fat Walda.

New developments.

+.+.+

"Lord Stannis is outside the walls, and not far by the sound of it. All we need do is reach him." Abel's fingers danced across the strings of his lute. The singer's beard was brown, though his long hair had largely gone to grey.

Hair going grey before the beard?

Has George ever met a man.

+.+.+

Up on the dais, Ramsay was arguing with his father. They were too far away for Theon to make out any of the words, but the fear on Fat Walda's round pink face spoke volumes.

Nothing to worry about, I'm sure.

+.+.+

Theon wondered if he would ever see the Drowned God's watery halls, or if his ghost would linger here at Winterfell. Dead is dead. Better dead than Reek.

Kind of amazed he doesn't consider hell a strong possibility. Lol.

+.+.+

If Abel's scheme went awry, Ramsay would make their dying long and hard. He will flay me from head to heel this time, and no amount of begging will end the anguish. No pain Theon had ever known came close to the agony that Skinner could evoke with a little flensing blade.

<- Daenerys VIII

I hate this, thought Daenerys Targaryen. How did this happen, that I am drinking and smiling with men I'd sooner flay?

+.+.+

Abel would learn that lesson soon enough. And for what? Jeyne, her name is Jeyne, and her eyes are the wrong color. A mummer playing a part. Lord Bolton knows, and Ramsay, but the rest are blind, even this bloody bard with his sly smiles. The jape is on you, Abel, you and your murdering whores. You'll die for the wrong girl.

Does Mance know? I'll let you decided.

"But you said you saw me twice. When was the other time?"

"When King Robert came to Winterfell to make your father Hand," the King-beyond-the-Wall said lightly.

[...]

The night your father feasted Robert, I sat in the back of his hall on a bench with the other freeriders, listening to Orland of Oldtown play the high harp and sing of dead kings beneath the sea. I betook of your lord father's meat and mead, had a look at Kingslayer and Imp . . . and made passing note of Lord Eddard's children and the wolf pups that ran at their heels. - Jon I, ASOS

+.+.+

He had come this close to telling them the truth when Rowan had delivered him to Abel in the ruins of the Burned Tower, but at the last instant he had held his tongue. The singer seemed intent on making off with the daughter of Eddard Stark. If he knew that Lord Ramsay's bride was but a steward's whelp, well …

A grown ass man living out his Bael the Bard fantasies.

+.+.+

The doors of the Great Hall opened with a crash.

A cold wind came swirling through, and a cloud of ice crystals sparkled blue-white in the air. Through it strode Ser Hosteen Frey, caked with snow to the waist, a body in his arms.

There's no blood on Ser Hosteen Frey.

+.+.+

Another murder.

Snow slid from Ser Hosteen's cloaks as he stalked toward the high table, his steps ringing against the floor. A dozen Frey knights and men-at-arms entered behind him. One was a boy Theon knew—Big Walder, the little one, fox-faced and skinny as a stick. His chest and arms and cloak were spattered with blood.

Fox-faced Big Walder has splattered blood all over him.

+.+.+

The body in Ser Hosteen's arms sparkled in the torchlight, armored in pink frost. The cold outside had frozen his blood.

"My brother Merrett's son." Hosteen Frey lowered the body to the floor before the dais. "Butchered like a hog and shoved beneath a snowbank. A boy."

Little Walder's blood had frozen due to the cold.

How is there splattered blood all over Big Walder?

"Don't be stupid," his cousin said. "The sons of the first son come before the second son. Ser Ryman is next in line, and then Edwyn and Black Walder and Petyr Pimple. And then Aegon and all his sons."

"Ryman is old too," said Little Walder. "Past forty, I bet. And he has a bad belly. Do you think he'll be lord?"

"I'll be lord. I don't care if he is." - Bran V, ACOK

"Did you find your cousins, my lord?"

"No. I never thought we would. They're dead. Lord Wyman had them killed. That's what I would have done if I was him." - Reek III, ADWD

+.+.+

Little Walder, thought Theon. The big one. He glanced at Rowan. There are six of them, he remembered. Any of them could have done this. But the washerwoman felt his eyes. "This was no work of ours," she said.

"Be quiet," Abel warned her.

She's not lying.

As much as I'd love to push a new theory, I think we all know Big Walder is the killer.

+.+.+

Lord Ramsay descended from the dais to the dead boy. His father rose more slowly, pale-eyed, still-faced, solemn. "This was foul work."

Does someone want to remind George that Little Walder was Walda's brother, and she should be reacting to his dead body.

+.+.+

For once Roose Bolton's voice was loud enough to carry. "Where was the body found?"

"Under that ruined keep, my lord," replied Big Walder. "The one with the old gargoyles." The boy's gloves were caked with his cousin's blood. "I told him not to go out alone, but he said he had to find a man who owed him silver."

Sure, repeat it.

Big Walder found the body first thing in the morning. Imagine that.

+.+.+

"What man?" Ramsay demanded. "Give me his name. Point him out to me, boy, and I will make you a cloak of his skin."

"He never said, my lord. Only that he won the coin at dice." The Frey boy hesitated. "It was some White Harbor men who taught dice. I couldn't say which ones, but it was them."

The boy hesitates right before incriminating Wyman Manderly, known antagonizer of House Frey. Nicely done, kid.

+.+.+

"My lord," boomed Hosteen Frey. "We know the man who did this. Killed this boy and all the rest. Not by his own hand, no. He is too fat and craven to do his own killing. But by his word." He turned to Wyman Manderly. "Do you deny it?"

The Lord of White Harbor bit a sausage in half. "I confess …" He wiped the grease from his lips with his sleeve. "… I confess that I know little of this poor boy. Lord Ramsay's squire, was he not? How old was the lad?"

Wyman definitely knew something about the boy, Little Walder was betrothed to Wylla Manderly.

Despite that motive, I don't think there's a single reason to believe Manderly did this.

+.+.+

"Nine, on his last nameday."

"So young," said Wyman Manderly. "Though mayhaps this was a blessing. Had he lived, he would have grown up to be a Frey."

Bwhahahahaha.

And he said mayhaps! Lmfao.

+.+.+

Ser Hosteen Frey ripped his longsword from its scabbard and leapt toward Wyman Manderly. The Lord of White Harbor tried to jerk away, but the tabletop pinned him to his chair. The blade slashed through three of his four chins in a spray of bright red blood.

How did he not die?

+.+.+

Up on the dais, Ramsay was arguing with his father.

For once Roose Bolton's voice was loud enough to carry. "Where was the body found?"

Lady Walda gave a shriek and clutched at her lord husband's arm. "Stop," Roose Bolton shouted. "Stop this madness."

Roose just doesn't seem like himself lately. He needs a nap.

+.+.+

"I see you all want blood," the Lord of the Dreadfort said. Maester Rhodry stood beside him, a raven on his arm. The bird's black plumage shone like coal oil in the torchlight. Wet, Theon realized. And in his lordship's hand, a parchment. That will be wet as well. Dark wings, dark words. "Rather than use our swords upon each other, you might try them on Lord Stannis." Lord Bolton unrolled the parchment.

Arnolf Karstark informing the Boltons of Stannis Baratheon's whereabouts.

"Tell me, then. Where are these two trained to fly?"

Maester Tybald did not answer. Theon Greyjoy kicked his feet feebly, and laughed under his breath. Caught!

"Answer me. If we were to loose these birds, would they return to the Dreadfort?" The king leaned forward. "Or might they fly for Winterfell instead?" - Theon I, TWOW

Too bad Stannis knows they're coming.

+.+.+

"His host lies not three days' ride from here, snowbound and starving, and I for one am tired of waiting on his pleasure. Ser Hosteen, assemble your knights and men-at-arms by the main gates. As you are so eager for battle, you shall strike our first blow. Lord Wyman, gather your White Harbor men by the east gate. They shall go forth as well."

We're saving the Night Lamp theory for Theon I TWOW (How did Theon chapters become harder than Bran's?), but I will say they're walking into a trap.

If the Freys are striking first, hopefully that means Team Manderly avoids falling into a lake.

+.+.+

"Singer," he called, "come sing us something soothing." Abel bowed. "If it please your lordship."

[...]

Rowan grasped Theon's arm. "The bath. It must be now."

He wrenched free of her touch. "By day? We will be seen."

"The snow will hide us. Are you deaf? Bolton is sending forth his swords. We have to reach King Stannis before they do."

"But … Abel …"

"Abel can fend for himself," murmured Squirrel.

Rest in peace, Mance Rayder.

+.+.+

Squirrel slipped away, soft-footed as she always was.

Is she off to kill the queen?

No really, why is there an Arya wildling?

+.+.+

Rowan walked Theon from the hall. Since she and her sisters had found him in the godswood, one of them had dogged his every step, never letting him out of sight. They did not trust him. Why should they? I was Reek before and might be Reek again. Reek, Reek, it rhymes with sneak.

Interesting, because the ghost of Winterfell seems to have stopped killing people.

+.+.+

Outside the snow still fell. The snowmen the squires had built had grown into monstrous giants, ten feet tall and hideously misshapen.

Someone please meta the evolution of the snowmen.

More snowmen had risen in the yard by the time Theon Greyjoy made his way back. To command the snowy sentinels on the walls, the squires had erected a dozen snowy lords. One was plainly meant to be Lord Manderly; it was the fattest snowman that Theon had ever seen. The one-armed lord could only be Harwood Stout, the snow lady Barbrey Dustin. And the one closest to the door with the beard made of icicles had to be old Whoresbane Umber. - The Turncloak, ADWD

Sentries crowded into the guard turrets to warm half-frozen hands over glowing braziers, leaving the wallwalks to the snowy sentinels the squires had thrown up, who grew larger and stranger every night as wind and weather worked their will upon them. Ragged beards of ice grew down the spears clasped in their snowy fists. - A Ghost in Winterfell, ADWD

+.+.+

Even the godswood was turning white. A film of ice had formed upon the pool beneath the heart tree, and the face carved into its pale trunk had grown a mustache of little icicles.

Apparently Bran's pulling a Sansa, and speedrunning puberty.

+.+.+

"Winter is coming …"

Rowan gave him a hard look. "You have no right to mouth Lord Eddard's words. Not you. Not ever. After what you did—"

Does someone want to remind George the wildlings do not give a shit about kneelers and their house words.

(Yes, I'm aware of the Rowan Umber theory.)

+.+.+

"You killed a boy as well."

"That was not us. I told you."

"Words are wind." They are no better than me. We're just the same. "You killed the others, why not him? Yellow Dick—"

"—stank as bad as you. A pig of a man."

"And Little Walder was a piglet. Killing him brought the Freys and Manderlys to dagger points, that was cunning, you—"

"Not us." Rowan grabbed him by the throat and shoved him back against the barracks wall, her face an inch from his. "Say it again and I will rip your lying tongue out, kinslayer."

Nothing in this chapter is worthy of an alarm, but I've already established a pattern, lol.

This is more ambiguous than I ever remembered.

"Kill me." There was more despair than defiance in his voice. "Go on. Do me, the way you did the others. Yellow Dick and the rest. It was you."

Holly laughed. "How could it be us? We're women. Teats and cunnies. Here to be fucked, not feared." - A Ghost in Winterfell, ADWD

The wildlings never admit to killing the other men. They only deny killing a boy; that's not an admission of guilt for the others.

If the wildings did kill the men, and George was content with the reader knowing that, why did he leave room for doubt?

+.+.+

Theon knew he should not goad her. In her own way, this one was as dangerous as Skinner or Damon Dance-for-Me. But he was cold and tired, his head was pounding, he had not slept in days.

I hear that's bad for your mental health, Theon Durden.

+.+.+

"I have done terrible things … betrayed my own, turned my cloak, ordered the death of men who trusted me … but I am no kinslayer."

"Stark's boys were never brothers to you, aye. We know."

That was true, but it was not what Theon had meant. They were not my blood, but even so, I never harmed them. The two we killed were just some miller's sons. Theon did not want to think about their mother. He had known the miller's wife for years, had even bedded her. Big heavy breasts with wide dark nipples, a sweet mouth, a merry laugh. Joys that I will never taste again.

But there was no use telling Rowan any of that. She would never believe his denials, any more than he believed hers. "There is blood on my hands, but not the blood of brothers," he said wearily. "And I've been punished."

We revisit one of the bigger obstacles of the Theon Durden theory. If Theon is the Hooded Man, why did he call himself a kinslayer?

I admit the lengthy reflection on the miller's wife doesn't look good here, but I truly don't believe Theon is capable of killing children he suspects are his own.

I'll repeat what I said the last chapter. I think Theon subconsciously blames himself for Robb dying. He will call Robb his brother later in this chapter, and express regret over not being by his side.

And Robb. Robb who had been more a brother to Theon than any son born of Balon Greyjoy's loins. Murdered at the Red Wedding, butchered by the Freys. I should have been with him. Where was I? I should have died with him.

+.+.+

Foolish woman. He might well be a broken thing, but Theon still wore a dagger. It would have been a simple thing to slide it out and drive it down between her shoulder blades. That much he was still capable of, missing teeth and broken teeth and all.

We're soon going to learn Theon is capable of more than just stabbing.

+.+.+

Reek might have done it. Would have done it, in hopes it might please Lord Ramsay. These whores meant to steal Ramsay's bride; Reek could not allow that. But the old gods had known him, had called him Theon. Ironborn, I was ironborn, Balon Greyjoy's son and rightful heir to Pyke. The stumps of his fingers itched and twitched, but he kept his dagger in its sheath.

Aww look at Bran subtly influencing the plot.

+.+.+

When Squirrel returned, the other four were with her: gaunt grey-haired Myrtle, Willow Witch-Eye with her long black braid, Frenya of the thick waist and enormous breasts, Holly with her knife. Clad as serving girls in layers of drab grey roughspun, they wore brown woolen cloaks lined with white rabbit fur. No swords, Theon saw. No axes, no hammers, no weapons but knives.

Jeyne will switch outfits with Squirrel.

I will let you decide whether this grey roughspun with a brown cloak meets girl in grey criteria.

+.+.+

"Even if we do get past the guards, how do you mean to get Lady Arya out?"

Holly smiled. "Six women go in, six come out. Who looks at serving girls? We'll dress the Stark girl up as Squirrel."

Theon glanced at Squirrel. They are almost of a size. It might work. "And how does Squirrel get out?"

Of course the Arya wildling will pretend to be Arya.

+.+.+

Squirrel answered for herself. "Out a window, and straight down to the godswood. I was twelve the first time my brother took me raiding south o' your Wall. That's where I got my name. My brother said I looked like a squirrel running up a tree. I've done that Wall six times since, over and back again. I think I can climb down some stone tower."

I don't understand what's happening here. What is with this girl?

+.+.+

They are doing it all wrong. Real serving girls were always teasing the potboys, flirting with the cooks, wheedling a taste of this, a bite of that. Rowan and her scheming sisters did not want to attract notice, but their sullen silence soon had the guards giving them queer looks. "Where's Maisie and Jez and t'other girls?" one asked Theon. "The usual ones."

"Lady Arya was displeased with them," he lied. "Her water was cold before it reached the tub last time."

Maisie Williams was hired August 7th, 2009. ADWD was released July 12, 2011.

I don't think that name is a coincidence, lol. George is cute.

+.+.+

Please no. This is the one time I don't want any interference from House Manderly.

+.+.+

Theon led the way up the stairs. I have climbed these steps a thousand times before. As a boy he would run up; descending, he would take the steps three at a time, leaping. Once he leapt right into Old Nan and knocked her to the floor. That earned him the worst thrashing he ever had at Winterfell, though it was almost tender compared to the beatings his brothers used to give him back on Pyke. He and Robb had fought many a heroic battle on these steps, slashing at one another with wooden swords. Good training, that; it brought home how hard it was to fight your way up a spiral stair against determined opposition. Ser Rodrik liked to say that one good man could hold a hundred, fighting down.

That was long ago, though. They were all dead now. Jory, old Ser Rodrik, Lord Eddard, Harwin and Hullen, Cayn and Desmond and Fat Tom, Alyn with his dreams of knighthood, Mikken who had given him his first real sword. Even Old Nan, like as not.

NO.

No, okay? No. You're wrong. She was alive in A Feast For Crows! She could still be at the Dreadfort!

She's not dead until I see the body.

+.+.+

No day had dawned inside this room. Shadows covered all. One last log crackled feebly amongst the dying embers in the hearth, and a candle flickered on the table beside a rumpled, empty bed. The girl is gone, Theon thought. She has thrown herself out a window in despair.

Perhaps I will die too, she told herself, and the thought did not seem so terrible to her. If she flung herself from the window, she could put an end to her suffering, and in the years to come the singers would write songs of her grief. Her body would lie on the stones below, broken and innocent, shaming all those who had betrayed her. Sansa went so far as to cross the bedchamber and throw open the shutters … but then her courage left her, and she ran back to her bed, sobbing. - Sansa VI, AGOT

+.+.+

A tear ran down her cheek. "Tell him, you tell him. I'll do what he wants … whatever he wants … with him or … or with the dog or … please … he doesn't need to cut my feet off, I won't try to run away, not ever, I'll give him sons, I swear it, I swear it …"

Rowan whistled softly. "Gods curse the man."

"I'm a good girl," Jeyne whimpered. "They trained me."

Sorry about sharing that.

I wanted to quickly say I don't think Jeyne being pregnant serves the story at all. I can't stand that theory.

"Roose has trained you well." She left him there. - The Turncloak, ADWD

+.+.+

"Get her up, turncloak." Holly had her knife in hand. "Get her up or I will. We have to go. Get the little cunt up on her feet and shake some courage into her."

Was that necessary?

+.+.+

We are all dead, Theon thought. I told them this was folly, but none of them would listen. Abel had doomed them. All singers were half-mad.

Rhaegar shade!

+.+.+

In songs, the hero always saved the maiden from the monster's castle, but life was not a song, no more than Jeyne was Arya Stark. Her eyes are the wrong color. And there are no heroes here, only whores. Even so, he knelt beside her, pulled down the furs, touched her cheek. "You know me. I'm Theon, you remember. I know you too. I know your name."

In A Song of Ice and Fire, Theon helps save Jeyne.

+.+.+

Theon slipped his hand through hers. The stumps of his lost fingers tingled as he drew the girl to her feet. The wolfskins fell away from her. Underneath them she was naked, her small pale breasts covered with teeth marks. He heard one of the women suck in her breath.

I apologize again.

It's another Targaryen / Bolton parallel.

The queen had been cloaked and hooded as she climbed inside the royal wheelhouse that would take her down Aegon's High Hill to the waiting ship, but he heard her maids whispering after she was gone. They said the queen looked as if some beast had savaged her, clawing at her thighs and chewing on her breasts. - Jaime II, AFFC

+.+.+

Squirrel had stripped down to her smallclothes, and was rooting through a carved cedar chest in search of something warmer. In the end she settled for one of Lord Ramsay's quilted doublets and a well-worn pair of breeches that flapped about her legs like a ship's sails in a storm.

With Rowan's help, Theon got Jeyne Poole into Squirrel's clothes.

[...]

"I will be right beside you," Theon promised as Squirrel slipped into Lady Arya's bed and pulled the blanket up.

That's the last we'll see of Squirrel.

According to Ramsay she's dead.

If you want Mance Rayder back, come and get him. I have him in a cage for all the north to see, proof of your lies. The cage is cold, but I have made him a warm cloak from the skins of the six whores who came with him to Winterfell. - Jon XIII, ADWD

I guess we'll have to wait and see if Arya wildling is truly dead or managed to escape the castle. My gut tells me she got out. :)

+.+.+

But the guards outside were huddled by the doors, backs turned against the icy wind and blown snow. Even the serjeant did not spare them more than a quick glance. Theon felt a stab of pity for him and his men. Ramsay would flay them all when he learned his bride was gone, and what he would do to Grunt and Sour Alyn did not bear thinking about.

+.+.+

The icy trenches rose around them, knee high, then waist high, then higher than their heads. They were in the heart of Winterfell with the castle all around them, but no sign of it could be seen. They might have easily been lost amidst the Land of Always Winter, a thousand leagues beyond the Wall.

THE CURTAIN OF LIGHT IS REAL.

Do you think this means Jon and Daenerys forge Lightbringer in the Lands of the Long Summer?

+.+.+

"Frenya, Holly, go with them," Rowan said. "We will be along with Abel. Do not wait for us." And with that, she whirled and plunged into the snow, toward the Great Hall. Willow and Myrtle hurried after her, cloaks snapping in the wind.

Quick rundown.

Squirrel was left in Jeyne's bed.

Frenya and Holly will die on the page.

We don't know if Rowan, Myrtle, and Willow survived.

Frenya and Holly dying and eventually being identified ensures Mance will be captured.

This is one of those situations where I'm not sure what I should be hoping for. Dead might be preferable. God help them if they were taken alive.

+.+.+

Madder and madder, thought Theon Greyjoy. Escape had seemed unlikely with all six of Abel's women; with only two, it seemed impossible. But they had gone too far to return the girl to her bedchamber and pretend none of this had ever happened. Instead he took Jeyne by the arm and drew her down the pathway to the Battlements Gate. Only a halfgate, he reminded himself. Even if the guards let us pass, there is no way through the outer wall. On other nights, the guards had allowed Theon through, but all those times he'd come alone. He would not pass so easily with three serving girls in tow, and if the guards looked beneath Jeyne's hood and recognized Lord Ramsay's bride …

Did a single person think any of this through? Lol.

+.+.+

"Reek, is that you?"

Yes, he meant to say. Instead he heard himself reply, "Theon Greyjoy. I … I have brought some women for you."

"You poor boys must be freezing," said Holly. "Here, let me warm you up." She slipped past the guard's spearpoint and reached up to his face, pulling loose the half-frozen scarf to plant a kiss upon his mouth. And as their lips touched, her blade slid through the meat of his neck, just below the ear. Theon saw the man's eyes widen. There was blood on Holly's lips as she stepped back, and blood dribbling from his mouth as he fell.

I don't know about you guys, but I'm picking up on a pattern here.

Osha slit Drennan's throat.

His throat had been opened ear to ear. A ragged tunic concealed the half-healed scars on his back, but his boots were scattered amidst the rushes, and his breeches tangled about his feet. - Theon IV, ACOK

Ygritte and knives.

"I'd cut his throat while he slept. You know nothing, Jon Snow." Ygritte twisted like an eel and wrenched away from him. - Jon V, ASOS

"I'm no crow wife!" Ygritte snatched her knife from its sheath. Three quick strides, and she yanked the old man's head back by the hair and opened his throat from ear to ear. - Jon V, ASOS

Val and knives.

If you force her to marry a man she does not want, she is like to slit his throat on their wedding night. - Jon I, ADWD

All the same, the wildling princess was not beloved of her gaolers. She scorned them all as "kneelers," and had thrice attempted to escape. When one man-at-arms grew careless in her presence she had snatched his dagger from its sheath and stabbed him in the neck. - Jon III, ADWD

The spearwives and their knives.

If the man had touched Jeyne, she might have screamed. Then Holly would have opened his throat for him with the knife hidden up her sleeve. - Theon I, ADWD

Clad as serving girls in layers of drab grey roughspun, they wore brown woolen cloaks lined with white rabbit fur. No swords, Theon saw. No axes, no hammers, no weapons but knives. - Theon I, ADWD

And as their lips touched, her blade slid through the meat of his neck, just below the ear. - Theon I, ADWD

The point I'm trying to make is that none of the previous victims were stabbed or had their throat cut.

The Ryswell man-at-arms was thrown from the battlements.

The naked Frey squire died from exposure.

The Flint crossbowan was found in the stables with a broken skull.

Yellow Dick was found in a snowdrift with his penis cut off, and shoved into his broken mouth.

I've watched enough Criminal Minds to know none of this fits their pattern of criminal behaviour.

"These dead were all strong men," said Roger Ryswell, "and none of them were stabbed. The turncloak's not our killer." - A Ghost in Winterfell, ADWD

Looking back, I think that line was meant to cast doubt on the spearwives.

+.+.+

The second guard was still gaping in confusion when Frenya grabbed the shaft of his spear. They struggled for a moment, tugging, till the woman wrenched the weapon from his fingers and clouted him across the temple with its butt. As he stumbled backwards, she spun the spear around and drove its point through his belly with a grunt.

Jeyne Poole let out a shrill, high scream.

+.+.+

On the drawbridge, Frenya stopped and turned. "Go on. I will hold the kneelers here." The bloody spear was still clutched in her big hands.

I have to keep highlighting these incredible women, but it still makes no sense why they're doing this.

+.+.+

Theon was staggering by the time he reached the foot of the stair. He slung the girl over his shoulder and began to climb. Jeyne had ceased to struggle by then, and she was such a little thing besides … but the steps were slick with ice beneath soft powdery snow, and halfway up he lost his footing and went down hard on one knee.

Theon's able to carry Jeyne up stairs in feet of snow and ice. I doubt Jeyne is any less than one hundred pounds.

He's not as weak as Barbrey Dustin thinks he is.

+.+.+

As he leaned up against a merlon, breathing hard, Theon could hear the shouting from below, where Frenya was fighting half a dozen guardsmen in the snow. "Which way?" he shouted at Holly. "Where do we go now? How do we get out?"

The fury on Holly's face turned to horror. "Oh, fuck me bloody. The rope." She gave a hysterical laugh. "Frenya has the rope." Then she grunted and grabbed her stomach. A quarrel had sprouted from her gut. When she wrapped a hand around it, blood leaked through her fingers. "Kneelers on the inner wall …" she gasped, before a second shaft appeared between her breasts. Holly grabbed for the nearest merlon and fell. The snow that she'd knocked loose buried her with a soft thump.

Shouts rang out from their left. Jeyne Poole was staring down at Holly as the snowy blanket over her turned from white to red.

Rest in peace, Frenya and Holly.

Quick question for the audience, did you prefer this or Theon throwing Miranda over the ramparts?

+.+.+

The wind was howling, and he and the girl were trapped.

The crossbow snapped. A bolt passed within a foot of him, shattering the crust of frozen snow that had plugged the closest crenel. Of Abel, Rowan, Squirrel, and the others there was no sign. He and the girl were alone. If they take us alive, they will deliver us to Ramsay.

Theon grabbed Jeyne about the waist and jumped.

He did it. He remembered his name.

Final thoughts:

Of course I would have to do Theon and locusts back-to-back. What did I expect?

I have a confession to make. Ever since Davos left the story, and Theon stopped being Reek, he's been my favourite POV.

Don't worry, I still hate him.

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#operation stumpy re-read #adwd #theon i #theon vii

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