#brandon the builder

[asoiafreadthru]

A Game of Thrones, Catelyn I

At the center of the grove an ancient weirwood brooded over a small pool where the waters were black and cool. “The heart tree,” Ned called it.

The weirwood’s bark was white as bone, its leaves dark red, like a thousand bloodstained hands.

A face had been carved in the trunk of the great tree, its features long and melancholy, the deep-cut eyes red with dried sap and strangely watchful.

They were old, those eyes; older than Winterfell itself. They had seen Brandon the Builder set the first stone, if the tales were true; they had watched the castle’s granite walls rise around them.

It was said that the children of the forest had carved the faces in the trees during the dawn centuries before the coming of the First Men across the narrow sea.

In the south the last weirwoods had been cut down or burned out a thousand years ago, except on the Isle of Faces where the green men kept their silent watch.

Up here was different. Here every castle had its godswood, and every godswood had its heart tree, and every heart tree its face.

Catelyn found her husband beneath the weirwood, seated on a moss-covered stone. The greatsword Ice was across his lap, and he was cleaning the blade in those waters black as night.

A thousand years of humus lay thick upon the godswood floor, swallowing the sound of her feet, but the red eyes of the weirwood seemed to follow her as she came.

#a game of thrones #catelyn i #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #catelyn tully #catelyn stark #winterfell #house stark #godswood #weirwood #weirwoods #eddard stark #ned stark #brandon the builder #children of the forest #dawn age #first men #narrow sea #southron #isle of faces #gods eye #the north #ice #heart tree

[lchufflepuffcorn]

A crown of roots and ice pt.5 A Bran Stark x Reader imagine

Warning: This gif is not mine, it belongs to its owner/creator. Possible triggers: Pregnancy, loss of a child, depression (light mention) angst, motherhood, dark-haired/dark-eyed reader (otherwise not discussed) Female oriented reader (heavily), mention of medieval rape (prior chapters). Birth (not graphic but heavily discussed).

Word count: 1109

Author's note: This fanfiction about Bran the Builder started from an obscure theory that he was also a green seer or linked with whatever Bran Stark we know is...

Masterlist OG Writing Masterlist

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Epilogue.

What is dead may never die

Bran was gone, once more to oversee the finishing of the farther North Wall, leaving (Y\N) with his heir, Brandon -or Brin, as his mother preferred it- and another fast-growing in her belly. Much to the lady’s disappointment. But the wall, Bran had said, ‘the wall needed to be finished so peace would reign and winter perish.’ 

Whatever that meant. 

Lady (Y\N) was sitting outside in the gardens, near the Godswood, with heavy furs on her shoulders and a worried smirk on her face. She was currently mildly listening to Lady Webber while watching her two years old wobble his way toward the whitebarked tree.  At nearly seven and ten years of age and still, the faces carved into the trees were still making her nervous. She knew that her friends would never hurt her child, but she didn’t trust her lord husband's gods to be as protecting. She knew full well that her own God was not the paternal type. 

Swaying gently under the winds, eyes carefully following Brin as he wandered around and ears somewhat listening to her lady friend and her troubles of the week, (Y/N) rests a hand on her forever-growing belly, where a healthy babe is making trouble. Fighting whatever internal adversary it imagines it has. The woman hopes for a girl this time, even if she knows Bran demands another son. 

So to secure his legacy. 

So the Stark family name doesn’t perish if Brin dies too young. The North is not merciful to anyone, her husband once told her. It had been a terrible night when he’d told her, she’d just lost her second babe, it was too early to tell if it had been a little boy or if it’d been a girl, the maester had said. And even if (Y/N) had cried her loss, she was glad -she’d confess to it later, in the cover of her tower’s shadow- Brin was only six months old, and she wasn’t ready for another one yet. Brandon had promised her they’d try to have another one as soon as she felt better. Even now she didn’t know if she felt better. After all, she’d lost a part of herself to that day. 

Her husband had grown even more tender than he’d already been after this event, as if she was made of glass, of something other, precious and breakable. (Y/N) wasn't all too sure she liked it. She was a Saltcliffe’s daughter, far from being easily breakable and fragile. It was still nicer to feel soft touches over rough caress in the nights that followed the incident and survived even after the joyous moment her pregnancy gave. 

“Sit, Nagga!” 

Watching Brin trying to teach the puppy his father had gifted him ‘to protect the castle and your mother’, he’d told him, was a refreshing sight, while in front of the blood-coloured leaves of God’s wood. The boy, to his father's distress, had named his direwolf like the sea monster from (Y/N)’s stories. 

“What will you name it, My Lady?” Asked Lady Webber suddenly, pulling (Y/N) from her thoughts. She rubbed her belly through her heavy dress, thoughtful for a moment before responding. 

“I like Aeron or Walton, for a little boy, and Mirria, for a girl.” She said finally. If Bran allowed it, that thought she didn’t say to lady Webber. 

(Y/N) still hadn’t talked names to her husband, the last time she had, her baby -not much bigger than a shrimp- had died. She couldn’t bare to give her future infant the name of a dead babe, and so, the name of her mother’s father, Mors, she would not use. The lady felt that if she named them, they’d die. And if this was their fate, it was better for Bran to name them. 

She was nearly ready to give birth when Bran came back from the Wall. Since Brin, he didn’t miss any birth, especially not the second one, when it wasn’t even a babe yet. He’d said that a child old of a month without a name was a disgrace on his part. An unnamed child buried would bring infinite bad luck to his family name. Thus, they’d named the shrimp before tossing it into the cave. 

(Y/N)’s Lord Husband would mostly care for her like he would a glass sculpture, making sure no stairs were laborious, of treacherously tripping her (??) or that she had more than enough furs to cover her at any time during any hour of the day. Soft hands graze her figure as Bran walks passed her in the cold halls, sweet kisses on the crown of her head and more food appearing on her plate. All things (Y/N) had to learn to appreciate since she’d given birth. Marriage was so bad after all. 

It was a hot night when Bran when himself in search of the maester. And against every recommendation, Bran was in the room during the birth of his second child. He was the one to place the wet rag over his wife’s forehead and held her hand as she pushed. Kissed her and mumbled encouraging words in her hair when she cried her exhaustion and pleaded for everything to stop. 

It lasted hours. Longer even than it did for Brin. And Bran even probed his wife against his chest, to provide as much help as he could. Murmurs of praise and kind words, comforting hands rubbing her arms at best he could lure her into continuing. 

(Y/N)’s head was hidden in her husband’s neck, whining, empty of any energy she’d had when finally a cry echoed in the room, and she too started crying again. She didn’t even have the strength to raise her arms to take her babe when the maester offered. 

“It’s a boy, my lord,” He said, giving the child to Bran, who took the bundle of furs and soft linen in his free arm, to bring him closer to his wife’s chest. A servant had taken it upon herself to disrobe her, helping to put the child on her chest so he could latch on her breast at last. 

“Jeor” Was all Bran said in her ear. 

“Aeron” counter-offered (Y/N) in a breathless whisper, nuzzling against his cheek while watching her son with tired eyes.  

A sigh left her husband, but the soft touch of his hand removing her hair from her sweat-drenched neck showed he wasn’t annoyed with her stubbornness. “You will call him what you like, but I, and all of this kingdom, will know him as Jeor Stark.” 

‘Very well, my lord.” Was the lady’s answer. 

“Very well, my love.” called the lord back. 

Taglist: @aegonslover

#Stark imagine #got imagine #Game of thrones imagine #brand strak x reader #Brandon Stark x reader #Fem!reader #Game of thrones x reader imagine #game of thrones x reader #x reader #x reader imagine #Brandon the Builder #Brandon the builder x reader #Bran the builder x reader #House stark #House stark imagine #House Stark x reader

[horizon-verizon]

What is commonly accepted is that the Age of Heroes began with the Pact and extended through the thousands of years in which the First Men and the children lived in peace with one another. With so much land ceded to them, the First Men at last had room to increase. From the Land of Always Winter to the shores of the Summer Sea, the First Men ruled from their ringforts. Petty kings and powerful lords proliferated, but in time some few proved to be stronger than the rest, forging the seeds of the kingdoms that are the ancestors of the Seven Kingdoms we know today. The names of the kings of these earliest realms are caught up in legend, and the tales that claim their individual rules lasted hundreds of years are to be understood as errors and fantasies introduced by others in later days. Names such as Brandon the Builder, Garth Greenhand, Lann the Clever, and Durran Godsgrief are names to conjure with, but it is likely that their legends hold less truth than fancy. Elsewhere, I shall endeavor to sift what grain can be found from the chaff, but for now it is enough to acknowledge the tales.

A World of Ice and Fire, pg. 10

#ancient history: age of heroes #age of heroes asoiaf #awoiaf quotes #asoiaf quotes #asoiaf #awoiaf #a song of ice and fire #a world of ice and fire #garth greenhand #lann the clever #durran godsgrief #brandon the builder #the first men

[nightswatchdisbandmentera]

There are a lot of theories out there about the true identity of the last hero, but I think the one that makes the most thematic sense is that he was a member of the original Night’s Watch. See the last hero’s identity is shrouded in mystery but his deeds live on forever and he is attributed with having led to the defeat of the Others. The legends show that his actions are famous, but the man himself is forgotten.

This seems quite close to what being a member of the Night’s Watch entails. The Watch’s vows dictate that members, who are the sword in the darkness and the fire that burns against the cold thus directly marking them in opposition to winter and the Others, shall hold no lands, wear no crowns, and win no glory. They are known to the rest of the kingdoms as those who guard the realms of men, but their identities and individual triumphs are largely unimportant.

This is a shared parallel between the members of the Night’s Watch and the last hero. We don’t know anything about his name, house, or background. Even the title ‘the last hero’ is merely an identifier - note that it’s in lower case. So it would make sense that the last hero’s identity is to remain anonymous if that was the entire point of it all; he was a man of the Night’s Watch and thus, indirectly, swore a vow of anonymity. And better yet, we don’t even know who his twelve companions were. We know only that they rode out with him and died in the process. However we do know that in the north, there are two figures who are directly identified as having been responsible for the ending of the long night: the last hero (as per folk tales narrated by Old Nan) and the Night’s Watch (see the Night that Ended). It could be that the legend of the last hero and his twelve companions is a glimpse of the NW’s last stand.

I also think it’s interesting that we have various last hero parallels in the text who are members of the Night’s Watch. We first have Waymar Royce who seems very last hero-y in the AGOT prologue. Then we have Jon Snow who is implicitly identified by the narrative as a last hero figure. And it gets even more interesting when we consider that Jon has at many times stated that as a member of the night’s watch, he is to remain a shadow among all shadows. His greatest deeds are to go unnoticed and his name is not to be spoken in the halls of men. His deeds could live on, but his name won’t; even more interesting when we consider that Jon, due to his bastardy, technically doesn’t actually have a name to begin with. And what makes Jon’s connection to the last hero so poignant is that while the last hero’s name has been lost to history, Jon has a whole thing about being a lost and forgotten prince/king.

But there’s a rather unexpected last hero parallel in Sam Tarly, also a member of the Night’s Watch. Sam is not magically special, nor is he marked as someone with a particularly important bloodline or destiny. However, he is the first person in thousands of years to slay an Other. And he did that using a shard of dragonglass, which provides an interesting callback to the last hero’s dragonsteel blade. There’s also the parallel of both heroes being the last men standing after an Other attack. But interestingly enough, there’s a slight deviation in that though we still do not know who the last hero was, we do know of Sam the Slayer.

So it’s entirely possible that the last hero was one of the members of the original NW. And this makes for a rather interesting foil in another character who is explicitly stated as having a relationship with the Others - the Night’s King. It’s interesting if both figures have some background with the NW due to the dichotomy that arises. The last hero kept his vows and wore no crown and got no glory, but the Night’s King very directly broke his. The last hero protected the realms of men, while the Night’s King embarked of a path of destruction. And he was, quite famously, a member of the Night’s Watch (and is even identified as having been the 13th lord commander). But it’s interesting that while we don’t really know of the Night’s King’s true identity, we are actually given multiple clues by the narrative. We’re even told that he may have been a Brandon Stark - thereby having a name which the last hero doesn’t. But even then, just as it was with the last hero, the Night’s King has deeds which live on forever even though his name (very deliberately) has not.

#asoiaf #valyrianscrolls #the night's watch #the last hero #jon snow #sam tarly #the nights king #all I’m saying is it might be really important that all but one of the last hero’s parallels are members of the nw #which makes me wonder - can bloodraven be considered a last hero parallel? #tbf he’s really only got the whole cavorting with the children thing so idk #but he has been long forgotten beyond the wall and he is obviously doing his part in being the #shield that guards the realms of men but just in a different way #and there’s also coldhands who is obviously a member of the nw forever ranging beyond the wall #plus he obviously has a connection to the children #and unlike bloodraven but much like the last hero coldhands’ identity is shrouded in mystery #and maybe benjen stark counts as another parallel? he’s got the whole last man standing thing going on #and he probably left the shards of dragonglass that ghost & jon found #and given that jon and benjen could both be considered last hero parallels #it might then be that he was a stark - which checks out since his foil the nk was most probably a stark as well #and like the nk he may have been a brandon stark - maybe not bran the builder but one of the many brandons lost in history #and thus comes the parallel with our main brandon - little greenseer bran stark #anyway not too fussed about the last hero’s name because I think it’s what he represents that matters most #so yeah…. #my stuff

[thot-chi]

House Stark, but the kids had past lives as former Stark members. Like one day they are just their usual selves and then BOOM! Suddenly, their former lives flash before their eyes!

Imagine

Robb- Brandon Snow

Sansa- Cregan Stark

Bran- Bran the Builder

Arya- Lyarra Stark (Ned & sib's mother)

Rickon- Theon the Hungry Wolf

Robb/Brandon finally having the Stark name but also the responsibility. The only downside to it is that it kinda makes a rift between his own mother and him as in another life, he was a bastard. And you know how Catelyn treats Jon... With Sansa/Cregan it's because Cregan is known for the hour of the Wolf and with Sansa's history in the South that would make something interesting, along with Cregan going through womanhood. Bran² well... it would be interesting for Bran² to meet Bloodraven and imagine his surprise when he realizes Bran is also the Builder. Arya was kind of a tough one as there is not a lot of history about the women of House Stark besides a Sara Snow, so I decided to use the kid's grandmother as I always felt Lyarra Stark was a true Northern woman and she would probably raise hell at seeing a Sept in Winterfell. Also the thought of Ned Stark getting a verbal ass kicking from his mother, who is reborn as his daughter is kind of funny. Rickon, well it's almost canon to book readers that Rickon is practically a feral child, a little wildling. So imagine him being Theon the Hungry Wolf. Like imagine a pissed off three year old just shouting in anger throughout the keep "IM A FUCKING ANDAL?!?!?!"

Jon- Torrhen Stark/ some targaryen ancestor

Okay now listen,Jon was really hard to decide who he would be and at first, I was going to put him as Brandon Snow but thought it would be more dramatic to be the King who Knelt. But then I also had this idea of Valyrian magic having its dirty way and also combining a past Targaryen member and not just any boring male Targ, no, a FEMALE Targ. And not the stereotypical reborn Visenya/Rhaenys/Rhaenyra trope but the most unassuming female Targaryen like the Good Queen Alysanne or Naerys Targaryen. Two women who were Queens who suffered losses in their life and were born women to add to the suffering, but now they are reborn in a the body of a male. Their new body is strong(Naerys, who was also a frail woman) and they won't be held back by the rules that society has placed on women(Alysanne) even if they are disguised as a bastard.

Now this could change the outcome, even a tiny bit as it is now children with past lives as people who had experiences already but also its Stark ancestors learning or experiencing different things from their time; Cregan being a female now, Brandon being a trueborn Stark heir, Theon being part Andal with a Sept in Winterfell, The Builder seeing what had become of his descendants, Torrhen/F!Targ seeing what had become of their descendants as well but also wondering were everything went wrong, and Lyarra dealing with her dead husband and son, who died viciously, a daughter who died the same way she did and two living sons not being as close as a pack should be. Watching as her second son, who was not prepared to be the Warden of the North, rule Winterfell.

#house stark #asoiaf #got #robb stark #sansa stark #jon snow #rickon stark #bran stark #arya stark #bran the builder #cregan stark #brandon snow #theon the hungry wolf #theon stark #lyarra stark #torrhen stark #the king who knelt #game of thrones #a song of ice and fire

[lagosbratzdoll]

Just thought of the discourse that I’m going to have to suffer through when HBO adapts the conquest. I wish the other houses were more interesting so they’d adapt them instead but here we are.

#Aegon is described as a drunken lout in the article #I’m in hell #Visenya and rhaenys are going to fight for his love #adapt the age of heroes abeg #Theon the hungry wolf was right there #Brandon the builder too #young Tywin and making the Lannister name one to be feared #meria is going to be a 20 year old #hell I’d take a series about those who sing the song of the earth #hbo you will crumble #inshallah

[seaworthee]

im sorry why is there a wall? so the sexy commies cant come teach the northmen how to have fun? hm

#what the fuck was brandon the builder's problem? #i literally thought the nights watch was there to look out for spooky ice zombies ur telling me they're border control?? #she speaks #asoiaf

[allovesthings]

#asoiaf #asoiaf reread #bran stark #brandon stark #bran the builder #a song of ice and fire #the last hero #azor ahai #the prince or princess that was promised #jon snow #daenerys targaryen #who else should I tag ? ;

[bottlesandbarricades]

I always imagine Bran the Builder as your typical tradie. Five sugars in his tea and a pencil behind the ear, trundling down to Oldtown in his white van with Stark & Sons on the side to give King Uthor a quote on rebuilding Hightower.

#game of thrones #got #bran the builder #house stark #Brandon Stark #Bran the Builder can he fix it? Bran the Builder yes he can #‘listen it int gonna be cheap if tha wants it done proper’

[vivacissimx]

preparing my weekly sacrifice to the asoiaf tag

#another week where i do not subject anybody to my brandon the builder was the first greenseer theory #*human greenseer #yes im very brave #also tumblr has been unfollowing ppl on my behalf no clue who exactly so beloved mutuals pls know that isn't my heart

[asoiafreadthru]

HOUSE STARK

The Starks trace their descent from Brandon the Builder and the ancient Kings of Winter.

For thousands of years, they ruled from Winterfell as Kings in the North, until Torrhen Stark, the King Who Knelt, chose to swear fealty to Aegon the Dragon rather than give battle.

Their blazon is a grey direwolf on an ice-white field.

The principal houses sworn to Winterfell are Karstark, Umber, Flint, Mormont, Hornwood, Cerwyn, Reed, Manderly, Glover, Tallhart, and Bolton.

The Stark words are Winter Is Coming.

#house stark #winterfell #direwolves #winter is coming #brandon the builder #torrhen stark #king of winter #king in the north #the king who knelt #aegon the conqueror #the north #house karstark #house umber #house flint #house mormont #house hornwood #house cerwyn #house reed #house manderly #house glover #house tallhart #house bolton #a game of thrones #appendix #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #starks

[thenorthsource]

The weirwood's bark was white as bone, its leaves dark red, like a thousand bloodstained hands. A face had been carved in the trunk of the great tree, its features long and melancholy, the deep-cut eyes red with dried sap and strangely watchful. They were old, those eyes; older than Winterfell itself. They had seen Brandon the Builder set the first stone, if the tales were true; they had watched the castle's granite walls rise around them. It was said that the children of the forest had carved the faces in the trees during the dawn centuries before the coming of the First Men across the narrow sea.

In the south the last weirwoods had been cut down or burned out a thousand years ago, except on the Isle of Faces where the green men kept their silent watch. Up here it was different. Here every castle had its godswood, and every godswood had its heart tree, and every heart tree its face.

#the old gods #weirwood trees #the godswood #asoiafsnet #gotasoiafsource #gameofthronesdaily #game of thrones #asoiaf #*gifs #ours #gotedit #thenorthedit

[govnovoz2077]

In the center of the lawn, an ancient weirwood tree brooded over a small dam filled with black, cold water; Tree Heart, Ned called it. The weirwood bark was white with weathered bone, the dark scarlet leaves looked like a thousand blood-stained palms. A face was carved into the thick trunk, long and thoughtful; the eyes, deeply sunk into the cortex, swam with frozen juice and seemed strangely attentive. They knew what antiquity was: these eyes were older than Winterfell itself. If the legends were not deceiving, they saw how Brandon the builder laid the first stone, they saw how the granite walls of the castle rose. The Children of the Forest were said to have carved faces into trees in the centuries before the First Men invaded from across the Narrow Sea.

#game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #ned stark #house stark #art #asoiaf

[malora-hightower]

The Starks + Thinking About Each Other

Part I: Ned

There were three tombs, side by side. Lord Rickard Stark, Ned’s father, had a long, stern face. The stonemasons had known him well. He sat with quiet dignity, stone fingers holding tight to the sword across his lap, but in life all swords had failed him. In two smaller sepulchres on either side were his children. Brandon had been twenty when he died, strangled by order of the Mad King Aerys Targaryen only a few short days before he was to wed Catelyn Tully of Riverrun. His father had been forced to watch him die. He was the true heir, the eldest, born to rule. Lyanna had only been sixteen, a child-woman of surpassing loveliness. Ned had loved her with all his heart.

AGoT, Eddard I

He could still hear her at times. Promise me, she had cried, in a room that smelled of blood and roses. Promise me, Ned. The fever had taken her strength and her voice had been faint as a whisper, but when he gave her his word, the fear had gone out of his sister’s eyes. Ned remembered the way she had smiled then, how tightly her fingers had clutched his as she gave up her hold on life, the rose petals spilling from her palm, dead and black. After that, he remembered nothing. They had found him still holding her body, silent with grief.

AGoT, Eddard I

“You avenged Lyanna at the Trident,” Ned said, halting beside the king. Promise me, Ned, she had whispered.

AGoT, Eddard II

Not for the first time, he wondered what he was doing here and why he had come. [. . .] He belonged in Winterfell. He belonged with Catelyn in her grief, and with Bran.

AGoT, Eddard II

Bran’s wolf had saved the boy’s life, he thought dully. What was it that Jon had said when they found the pups in the snow? Your children were meant to have these pups, my lord. And he had killed Sansa’s, and for what? Was it guilt he was feeling? Or fear? If the gods had sent these wolves, what folly had he done?

AGoT, Eddard IV

Yet even as he said the words, he remembered that chill morning on the barrowlands, and Robert’s talk of sending hired knives after the Targaryen princess. He remembered Rhaegar’s infant son . . . and the way the king had turned away, as he had turned away in Darry’s audience hall not so long ago. He could still hear Sansa pleading, as Lyanna had pleaded once.

AGoT, Eddard IV

Ned did not need Littlefinger to tell him that. He was thinking back to the day Arya had been found . . .. He was thinking of the boy Mycah, of Jon Arryn’s sudden death, of Bran’s fall . . ..

AGoT, Eddard IV

“No,” Ned said. He saw no use in lying to her. “Yet someday he may be the lord of a great holdfast and sit on the king’s council. He might raise castles like Brandon the Builder, or sail a ship across the Sunset Sea, or enter your mother’s Faith and become the High Septon.” But he will never run beside his wolf again, he thought with a sadness too deep for words, or lie with a woman, or hold his own son in his arms.

AGoT, Eddard V

He yearned for the comfort of Catelyn’s arms, for the sounds of Robb and Jon crossing swords in the practice yard, for the cool days and cold nights of the north.

AGoT, Eddard VI

“You never knew Lyanna as I did, Robert,” Ned told him. “You saw her beauty, but not the iron underneath. She would have told you that you have no business in the melee.” He took out the dagger and studied it. Littlefinger’s blade, won by Tyrion Lannister in a tourney wager, sent to slay Bran in his sleep. Why? Why would the dwarf want Bran dead? Why would anyone want Bran dead?

AGoT, Eddard VII

The dagger, Bran’s fall, all of it was linked somehow to the murder of Jon Arryn, he could feel it in his gut . . ..

AGoT, Eddard VII

It would be good to return to Winterfell. He ought never have left. His sons were waiting there. Perhaps he and Catelyn would make a new son together when he returned, they were not so old yet. And of late he had often found himself dreaming of snow, of the deep quiet of the wolfswood at night.

AGoT, Eddard VIII

Could Robert be part of it? He would not have thought so, but once he would not have thought Robert could command the murder of women and children either. Catelyn had tried to warn him. You knew the man, she had said. The king is a stranger to you.

AGoT, Eddard VIII

“Robert will never keep to one bed,” Lyanna had told him at Winterfell, on the night long ago when their father had promised her hand to the young Lord of Storm’s End. “I hear he has gotten a child on some girl in the Vale.” Ned had held the babe in his arms; he could scarcely deny her, nor would he lie to his sister, but he had assured her that what Robert did before their betrothal was of no matter, that he was a good man and true who would love her with all his heart. Lyanna had only smiled. “Love is sweet, dearest Ned, nut it cannot change a man’s nature.”

AGoT, Eddard IX

Riding through the rainy night, Ned saw Jon Snow’s face in front of him, so like a younger version of his own. If the gods frowned so on bastards, he thought dully, why did they fill men with such lusts?

AGoT, Eddard IX

He dreamt an old dream, of three knights in white cloaks, and a tower long fallen, and Lyanna in her bed of blood. [. . .] “As they came together in a rush of steel and shadow, he could hear Lyanna screaming. “Eddard!” she called. A storm of rose petals blew across a blood-streaked sky, as blue as the eyes of death.

AGoT, Eddard X

It was queer how sometimes a child’s innocent eyes can see the things that grown men are blind to. Someday, when Sansa was grown, he would have to tell her how she had made it all come clear for him. He’s not the least bit like that old drunken king, she had declared, angry and unknowing, and the simple truth of it had twisted inside him, cold as death.

AGoT, Eddard XII

And yet, he knew he could not keep silent. He had a duty to Robert, to the realm, to the shade of Jon Arryn . . . and to Bran, who surely must have stumbled on some part of the truth. Why else would they have tried to slay him?

AGoT, Eddard XII

Ned thought, If it came to that, the life of some child I did not know, against Robb and Sansa and Arya and Bran and Rickon, what would I do? Even more so, what would Catelyn do, if it were Jon’s life, against the children of her body? He did not know. He prayed he never would.

AGoT, Eddard XII

Her eyes burned, green fire in the dusk, like the lioness that was her sigil. “The night of our wedding feast, the first time we shared a bed, he called me by your sister’s name. He was on top of me, in me, stinking of wine, and he whispered Lyanna.” Ned Stark thought of pale blue roses, and for a moment he wanted to weep.

AGoT, Eddard XII

He was walking thought the crypts beneath Winterfell, as he had walked a thousand times before. The Kings of Winter watched him pass with eyes of ice, and the direwolves at their feet turned their great stone heads and snarled. Last of all, he came to the tomb where his father slept, with Brandon and Lyanna beside him. “Promise me, Ned,” Lyanna’s whispered statue whispered. She wore a garland of pale blue roses, and her eyes wept blood.

AGoT, Eddard XIII

“Serve the boar at my funeral feast,” Robert rasped. “Apple in its mouth, skin seared crisp. Eat the bastard. Don’t care if you choke on him. Promise me, Ned.” “I promise.” Promise me, Ned, Lyanna’s voice echoed.

AGoT, Eddard XIII

The thought of Winterfell brought a wan smile to his face. He wanted to hear Bran’s laughter once more, to go hawking with Robb, to watch Rickon at play. He wanted to drift off to a dreamless sleep in his own bed with his arms wrapped tight around his lady, Catelyn.

AGoT, Eddard XIII

When he woke, there was nothing to do but think, and his waking thoughts were worse than nightmares. The thought of Cat was as painful as a bed of nettles. He wondered where she was, what she was doing. He wondered whether he would ever see her again.

AGoT, Eddard XV

He made plans to keep himself sane, built castles of hope in the dark. [. . .] Catelyn would raise the north when the word reached her, and the lords of river and mountain and Vale would join her. The memory came creeping upon him in the darkness, as vivid as a dream. It was the year of the false spring, and he was eighteen again, down from the Eyrie to the tourney at Harrenhal. [. . .] He remembered Brandon’s laughter . . .. [. . .] Ned remembered the moment when all the smiles died, when Prince Rhaegar Targaryen urged his horse past his own wife, the Dornish princess Elia Martell, to lay the queen of beauty’s laurel in Lyanna’s lap. He could see it still: a crown of winter roses, blue as frost. Ned Stark reached out his hand to grasp the flowery crown, but beneath the pale blue petals the thorns lay hidden. He felt them clawing at his skin, sharp and cruel, saw the slow trickle of blood run down his fingers, and woke, trembling, in the dark. Promise me, Ned, his sister had whispered from her bed of blood. She had loved the scent of winter roses.

AGoT, Eddard XV

“. . . And now your son marches down the Neck with a northern host at his back.” “Robb is only a boy,” Ned said, aghast.

AGoT, Eddard XV

“Pity.” The eunuch stood. “And your daughter’s life, my lord? How previous is that?” A chill pierced Ned’s heart. “My daughter . . .”

AGoT, Eddard XV

#ned stark #part II will be catelyn #I'm sure I missed some and a couple of these may not fall under 'thinking about' #valyrianscrolls #asoiaf #thenorthsource #bookhousestark #eddard stark #house stark #txt #starksthinkingofeachother

[ice-mint]

Some niche asoiaf memes.

1) Brandon the Builder 2) Lann the Clever 3)The Iron Bank of Braavos

#asoiaf #got #game of thrones #asoiaf memes #a song of ice and fire #bran the builder #lann the clever #braavos #starks #asoiaf meme #this is so self indulgent

[asongofstarkandtargaryen]

"This wall is made o' blood"

Ygritte in Jon IV, Asos.

Ygritte makes one of the most ominous comments about the Wall. Within context it makes sense for her to say so, as she just witnessed Jarl and his team fall to their death while they tried to climb the Wall. It's not uncommon for Free Folk to find death when they try to climb the Wall as Jon also inform us. Just like Free folk die trying to invade the Wall, Black brothers die trying to defend it ( towards the end of the same book we'll get the battle of Castle Black between them). So, the Wall could be made of "the blood of all those who lose their lives while trying to invade/defend it".

However, I was thinking that maybe Martin made Ygritte say those words because he wanted to give us a hint of something more sinister ( something that neither Ygritte nor most characters suspect). According to the legend, the Wall was made by Brandon the Builder with the assistance of the children of the forest and giants and powerful spells were used to create it. So what if they used some massive humans (or animals or magical beings) sacrifice in order to create it? It's not far fetched considering that the first men did sacrifice people to give their blood to weirwood trees.

#ygritte #jon snow #the wall #asoiaf speculation #valyrianscrolls #a post of ice and fire