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istumpysk · 2 years

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Operation Stumpy Re-Read

ASOS: Jon I (Chapter 7)

The big cheese!

Six days ago, the largest hound had attacked him from behind as the wildlings camped for the night, but Ghost had turned and lunged, sending the dog fleeing with a bloody haunch. The rest of the pack maintained a healthy distance after that.

Hounds and direwolves are fighting.

+.+.+

The girl laughed scornfully. "For one o' us. D'ya think you're the first crow ever flew down off the Wall? In your hearts you all want to fly free."

"And when I'm free," he said slowly, "will I be free to go?"

"Sure you will." She had a warm smile, despite her crooked teeth. "And we'll be free to kill you. It's dangerous being free, but most come to like the taste o' it."

Ygritte, and the illusion of choice...

+.+.+

"They don't much care for that beast o' yours," Longspear Ryk said to Jon.

"They're dogs and he's a wolf," said Jon. "They know he's not their kind." No more than I am yours.

A dog is not a direwolf. :)

+.+.+

A dozen women sat nearby in a circle, fletching arrows.

Arrows for my brothers, Jon thought. Arrows for my father's folk, for the people of Winterfell and Deepwood Motte and the Last Hearth. Arrows for the north.

Arrows for the north!

Don't mind me, just suffering my normal paranoia whenever arrows are mentioned.

+.+.+

There was no doubting which tent was the king's.

[...]

Here at least they found defenders; two guards at the flap of the tent, leaning on tall spears with round leather shields strapped to their arms.

We're visiting the Queen of Thorns and King-beyond-the-Wall in back-to-back chapters. The similarities won't stop there.

Smarter people than me have already observed these are twin chapters, so I won't highlight every single parallel. (Go look, it's a lot.)

Outside its tall carved doors stood two guards in gilded halfhelms and green cloaks edged in gold satin, the golden rose of Highgarden sewn on their breasts. - Sansa I, ASOS

+.+.+

A pregnant woman stood over a brazier cooking a brace of hens, while a grey-haired man in a tattered cloak of black and red sat crosslegged on a pillow, playing a lute and singing

Songs are being sung in back-to-back chapters.

The old woman called to Butterbumps. "Fool! Give us a song. A long one, I should think. 'The Bear and the Maiden Fair' will do nicely." - Sansa I, ASOS

+.+.+

The Dornishman's wife was as fair as the sun,

and her kisses were warmer than spring.

But the Dornishman's blade was made of black steel,

and its kiss was a terrible thing.

The Dornishman's wife would sing as she bathed,

in a voice that was sweet as a peach,

But the Dornishman's blade had a song of its own,

and a bite sharp and cold as a leech.

As he lay on the ground with the darkness around,

and the taste of his blood on his tongue,

His brothers knelt by him and prayed him a prayer,

and he smiled and he laughed and he sung,

"Brothers, oh brothers, my days here are done,

But what does it matter, for all men must die,

and I've tasted the Dornishman's wife!"

The Bear and the Maiden Fair is about Sansa, therefore my gut tells me the Dornishman's Wife is somehow related to Jon. Don't ask me how though.

Important to note, the words will be changed in the future.

Abel rubbed the sleep from his eyes, took up his lute, and launched into "The Dornishman's Wife," whilst one of his washerwomen beat time on her drum. The singer changed the words, though. Instead of tasting a Dornishman's wife, he sang of tasting a northman's daughter. - The Turncloack, ADWD

+.+.+

The bearded man laughed so hard he sprayed bits of chicken everywhere. He rubbed the grease from his mouth with the back of a huge hand. "A blind boy, must be. Who ever heard of a king without ears? Why, his crown would fall straight down to his neck! Har!"

Hmmm.

Jon felt as blind as Maester Aemon. - Jon VII, AGOT

Hmmm. Hmmm. Hmmm.

+.+.+

The King-beyond-the-Wall looked nothing like a king, nor even much a wildling. He was of middling height, slender, sharp-faced, with shrewd brown eyes and long brown hair that had gone mostly to grey. There was no crown on his head, no gold rings on his arms, no jewels at his throat, not even a gleam of silver. He wore wool and leather, and his only garment of note was his ragged black wool cloak, its long tears patched with faded red silk.

Pretty close to what I imagine Jon would look like as king.

+.+.+

"How did you like the song, lad?"

"Well enough. I'd heard it before."

"But what does it matter, for all men must die," the King-beyond-the-Wall said lightly, "and I've tasted the Dornishman's wife. Tell me, does my Lord of Bones speak truly? Did you slay my old friend the Halfhand?"

The character that has the next POV should probably start to worry over these words constantly following her around.

And I don't mean Arya.

+.+.+

Beside the brazier, a short but immensely broad man sat on a stool, eating a hen off a skewer. Hot grease was running down his chin and into his snow-white beard, but he smiled happily all the same. Thick gold bands graven with runes bound his massive arms, and he wore a heavy shirt of black ringmail that could only have come from a dead ranger.

[...]

Tormund rose to his feet. "Hold. You gave Styr his style, give me mine."

Mance Rayder laughed. "As you wish. Jon Snow, before you stands Tormund Giantsbane, Tall-talker, Horn-blower, and Breaker of Ice. And here also Tormund Thunderfist, Husband to Bears, the Mead-king of Ruddy Hall, Speaker to Gods and Father of Hosts."

What? Is? This?

Tormund is wearing thick gold bands graven with runes. Runes. Why runes?

The description perfectly matches the Horn of Joramun:

Two queen's men brought forth the Horn of Joramun, black and banded with old gold, eight feet long from end to end. Runes were carved into the golden bands, the writing of the First Men. - Jon III, ADWD

Now, get this. Tormund gifts those runes to Jon:

The wildling pulled off the band from his left arm and tossed it at Jon, then did the same with its twin upon his right. "Your first payment. Had those from my father and him from his. Now they're yours, you thieving black bastard." - Jon XI, ADWD

Strange, right?

I don't know what to make of this. Horn-blower and Breaker of Ice isn't helping.

+.+.+

"The good woman at the brazier," Mance Rayder went on, "is Dalla." The pregnant woman smiled shyly. "Treat her like you would any queen, she is carrying my child." He turned to the last two. "This beauty is her sister Val.

+.+.+

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."

I've never liked that last line.

+.+.+

"Bael the Bard," said Jon, remembering the tale that Ygritte had told him in the Frostfangs, the night he'd almost killed her.

"Would that I were. I will not deny that Bael's exploit inspired mine own . . . but I did not steal either of your sisters that I recall. Bael wrote his own songs, and lived them. I only sing the songs that better men have made. More mead?"

No, we have Bael-ish for that.

+.+.+

"Your father would have had my head off." The king gave a shrug. "Though once I had eaten at his board I was protected by guest right. The laws of hospitality are as old as the First Men, and sacred as a heart tree."

+.+.+

"Here you are the guest, and safe from harm at my hands . . . this night, at least.

Weird foreshadowing developing between these two.

"You flatter yourself, crow. I never broke a sweat."

"Next time you will," said Jon. - Jon VI, ADWD

+.+.+

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. Weigh every word before you speak it, he told himself.

Words are being weighed in back-to-back chapters.

Courtesy is a lady's armor. You must not offend them, be careful what you say. - Sansa I, ASOS

+.+.+

When he set the horn aside he said, "Tell me why you turned your cloak, and I'll tell you why I turned mine."

[...]

"You will have heard stories of my desertion, I have no doubt."

"Some say it was for a crown. Some say for a woman. Others that you had the wildling blood."

[...]

Mance Rayder rose, unfastened the clasp that held his cloak, and swept it over the bench. "It was for this."

"A cloak?"

"The black wool cloak of a Sworn Brother of the Night's Watch," said the King-beyond-the-Wall. "One day on a ranging we brought down a fine big elk. We were skinning it when the smell of blood drew a shadow-cat out of its lair. I drove it off, but not before it shredded my cloak to ribbons. Do you see? Here, here, and here?" He chuckled. "It shredded my arm and back as well, and I bled worse than the elk. My brothers feared I might die before they got me back to Maester Mullin at the Shadow Tower, so they carried me to a wildling village where we knew an old wisewoman did some healing. She was dead, as it happened, but her daughter saw to me. Cleaned my wounds, sewed me up, and fed me porridge and potions until I was strong enough to ride again. And she sewed up the rents in my cloak as well, with some scarlet silk from Asshai that her grandmother had pulled from the wreck of a cog washed up on the Frozen Shore. It was the greatest treasure she had, and her gift to me." He swept the cloak back over his shoulders. "But at the Shadow Tower, I was given a new wool cloak from stores, black and black, and trimmed with black, to go with my black breeches and black boots, my black doublet and black mail. The new cloak had no frays nor rips nor tears . . . and most of all, no red. The men of the Night's Watch dressed in black, Ser Denys Mallister reminded me sternly, as if I had forgotten. My old cloak was fit for burning now, he said.

"I left the next morning . . . for a place where a kiss was not a crime, and a man could wear any cloak he chose."

You know what I think? I think Jon will decide to leave the Night's Watch after being gifted a cloak as well.

There will be no red or black in that cloak though.

+.+.+

"You say you were at Winterfell, the night my father feasted King Robert."

"I did say it, for I was."

"Then you saw us all. Prince Joffrey and Prince Tommen, Princess Myrcella, my brothers Robb and Bran and Rickon, my sisters Arya and Sansa. You saw them walk the center aisle with every eye upon them and take their seats at the table just below the dais where the king and queen were seated."

Unreliable narrator... George R. R. Martin? Jon Snow? I don't know.

Bran did not walk the center aisle at the feast.

+.+.+

"And did you see where I was seated, Mance?" He leaned forward. "Did you see where they put the bastard?"

Mance Rayder looked at Jon's face for a long moment. "I think we had best find you a new cloak," the king said, holding out his hand.

Call me a hater, but I've always thought this was flimsy.

It's good motivation to leave Winterfell and your family, but it's not a great reason to desert the Night's Watch, where all brothers are equal, and even a bastard can rise high.

Final thoughts:

I'm confident I missed crucial foreshadowing in this chapter. Oops.

Ygritte Death Countdown

4 down, 6 to go. :(

-> return to menu <-

#operation stumpy re-read #asos #jon i

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icaralo-the-bluebird · 2 years

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I woke as a clotted amalgam of roots

A welling mother-wound of verdant Green encircles my hollowed throat,

see me dreaming endless, skyless dreams.

Pitted, heartless stars for eyes,

the silver snarl of my mouth spitting rot-ruined teeth.

I am a nightless, dayless, golem of what once remained,

suspended in the bare agony of my own mind.

The knowing yet faded memory of home kisses me awake,

daring Nostalgia impersonating my still-lost-Neverdark—settled prettily ‘n the crook of my shoulder.

Muzzy and sleep-warm, I brush the cobweb-fine silk of her hair from her face,

reverently tracing the mountainous ridges of bones yawning like slumbering gods ‘neath her skin.

She holds herself like the aftermath of blind carnage,

splayed—limbs thrown and features skewed in a fossilized pain—and colder than absence.

In that moment I love her as amnesia does cool and pleasant absence,

I am an unmemory of feeling—breathing in the closeness of her, my sweet unmaking.

We fit like two lies ‘tween holy mother and damned daughter,

as if upon waking she would not bare the corruption of her teeth and sink ‘nto the betrayal of my throat.

I make tea with honey now, love,

sunlit and hallowed, the brew dances soothingly on rather tasteless buds.

I stretch the incongruity of my body ‘long my mother’s soulless loveseat,

stretching the aching foot we screwed right back on without knowing how these things go.

My borrowed mug, like river-rocks and horsefly kisses—a deep well of deepwoods blue—cools,

amber liquid within some steaming paradise.

In that state,

mind like lips both chapped bloody and bitten—far from obedient—I dream yet again.

My hands mold like fated disciples to old and sun-dappled bark,

the relentless hum of nature’s kinship falling kindly ‘cross the lined wreckage of my shoulders.

I walk paths that a waking mind may never traverse,

speaking a language more native to my tongue than thought ‘hind my eyes.

The summer breeze laughs in a way only wind can—belly-deep and echoing,

egging me on, pulling me, stumbling and perfectly alive after it.

Home follows me back to daycountry like impermanent love,

my eyes opening like a wounded starling’s wings to Nostalgia’s kin.

My heart is thrashing like penance gone wrong,

limbs desecrated and navel unzipped to reveal the pulsing ugliness within.

I lay like a dormancy—some eyeless worm—

flora reaching and stretching from my ribs to belly button, refusing to gorge but doing so anyhow.

Ferns choke my pining throat, furling and unfurling to the wrath of my chest’s remaining organ,

I laugh—which expels just about a million skittering wolf spiders—like a blood-besmirched satisfaction.

Even awake, I am a thing made and discarded,

but that which has been abandoned may draw power from its own toothy shadow.

And I, broken and shattered,

have torn a knack for rebirth from God’s lying jaws.

I’ve attempted this confession before,

fingers poised and that which hangs ‘neath my clavicles weeping something that should be blood.

How do I translate a grief like a knotted spine divorced from a loveless back?

what of me is left to harmonize light and sound and fury into coherence?

I dream of you always, Neverdark.

Blink and it disappears,

blinds me speechless.

But you are there,

my hands itching to cup the autumnal blessing of your face.

I am a starvation of a body,

keening in a tearing, desperate fervency for you.

Waking with the bitter absence of my most beloved on my lips is a burning,

acid-warm and ravenous like gangrenous infection.

A cruel insanity, I rise like something once dead,

bloated blue body, the cavernous mocking of my ribs unwilling, covered only by scorched moss.

Wanton confusion like dirt ‘under my nails,

put to bed in the wild drums of my ears.

Somehow there is no part of me that wonders if you knew/know/will know,

it had to be clear in the way I clung.

In the way I devote myself to you,

ever-warm from Appalachia’s sun.

It is beyond me why you let a creature hewn of the Green’s mistakes, forged by flood and consuming fire,

love you.

But I have two biddable hands—at least for now—

and I have drawn the painstaking art of human words from ancient wells aplenty.

Let me give them all—like rolling hills of green—to you,

let me reach the dreaming heart of you, and wake with me tucked ‘nder your arm.

Let yourself come home,

and find me tucked ‘nside our bed, quietly trusting you to guide me home.

#idfk what im doing #poetry #bluebird's words #writblr

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a-secret-bolton-vampire · 3 years

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The Coming War for the North, Part 1: The Battle of Ice

The North is about to become a major storyline for The Winds of Winter, a lot of those pieces being set up in A Dance with Dragons. Certainly the biggest mystery is the pink letter that Jon received in his final chapter. That said, I think the real mystery is not who wrote the letter or the demands it makes, but rather what it says about Stannis. I’ll get to that in a bit, but first let’s dive into what will be part of the opening act of Winds; the much anticipated battle of ice. (Warning: this is going to be very long post, and this WILL have spoilers for all the books, including the TWOW sample chapters, and the show)

Stannis vs. Roose

The battle of ice was originally going to be part of the climax of A Dance with Dragons, but when the book became too long, George had to cut both it and the battle of fire in Meereen. This led to a sort of misconception that the pink letter has to be completely fake because it gives the result of the battle without showing the battle itself. While I think the pink letter is not entirely true, the point is that George put himself in an awkward position where he had to cut the battle to make room, but he couldn’t cut the pink letter, because it is the culmination of Jon’s entire arc in ADWD, and not having it end where it was intended would’ve probably caused a lot more problems in the long run.

That said, we have one entirely released sample chapter leading to it in TWOW, and a partially leaked chapter involving it as well, and together with the final chapters of ADWD, we have plenty of set up as well as some indication of what to expect. To start off, we need to go back to the beginning of ADWD, while Stannis is still at the Wall, and Ramsay is freeing Moat Cailin from the ironborn. The Boltons gather at Barrowton, where the wedding for Ramsay and “Arya Stark” (Jeyne Poole) is to take place. Meanwhile, Stannis wants to use the wildlings he captured in his battle beyond the Wall in ASOS to fight for him.

He has also gotten Arnolf Karstark to declare for him, but in reality this is a ruse concocted by Ramsay, who has the Karstarks secretly declare for Stannis while acting as sleeper agents to turn on him when the time comes. In fact they immediately begin to undermine him by suggesting he march on the Dreadfort, saying it is lightly garrisoned with only half a hundred people, and of those more than half are servants. This is a trap, however, since the Dreadfort can withstand such sieges for up to two years, and both the Boltons and Karstarks are counting on the snows and worsening weather to do Stannis in.

After Jon tells Stannis this, he then instead suggests he meet with the hill clans in the northern mountains, gain their trust, and attack Deepwood Motte, which is still held by Asha Greyjoy and her ironmen. Stannis goes with this instead of attacking the Dreadfort, and after winning the clansmen, successfully liberates Deepwood Motte. This action surprises both Roose and Ramsay, and to counter this, Roose decides to move the wedding to Winterfell, since it is a far stronger fortress that is much harder to siege, would add legitimacy to the Boltons claim over the North, and bait Stannis and once again hope on the snows to do him in.

Thus, they move to Winterfell, where Ramsay marries “Arya”, and they settle in. Stannis takes the bait and decides to march on Winterfell. At the beginning of the march, he has an army that is a near match to Roose’s; ~1,400 southron men who followed him from the south ~2,500 mountain clansmen ~1,100 northern soldiers consisting of Mormonts, Glovers, and survivors of the battle outside Winterfell in ACOK He also has 400 Umber green boys under the command of Crowfood, but they do not join Stannis’s main army In total, Stannis has around 5,400 men ready to fight against the Boltons.

Meanwhile, at Winterfell, Roose has a slightly larger army consisting of; ~4,000 Bolton men (mixed with a few survivors of the original 20,000 Northmen that marched with Robb south) 400 Umber men under the command of Whoresbane 300 Manderly men under the command of Lord Wyman An unknown amount of Dustins, Cerwyns, Tallharts, Hornwoods, and Lockes ~2,000 Frey men under the command of Ser Hosteen Frey And of course 456 Karstark men under the command of Arnolf, with Stannis, disguised as Stannis’s loyal troops while acting as a trojan horse for the Boltons. In total, Roose has around 7,156+ men loyal to him, although some of their loyalties are in doubt.

Originally, Stannis makes good time marching across the wolfswood towards Winterfell. However, he soon gets bogged down by heavy snowfall and blizzards, losing men and horses along the march, until it becomes so bad he is forced to stop at a crofter’s village, just three days outside Winterfell. It is not stated how many men Stannis lost on the march, but it’s not an insignificant amount, given what Justin Massey says in ADWD during Asha’s last chapter.

"The cold count last night reached eighty." He pulled a piece of gristle from his teeth and flicked it to the nearest dog. "If we march, we will die by the hundreds."

If they lost 80 men in a single night, after what is probably at least a week of staying at the village, they have probably lost a few hundred men. Not only are they stuck in snow and freezing to death, they are also starving. They are forced to resort to butchering their horses for meat and fishing out of the two frozen lakes on either side of the village, but they are now down to 62 horses, and the lakes are nearly fished clean. It gets so bad that a few people resort to cannibalism, for which Stannis has them burnt alive for punishment and to appease the followers of R’hllor.

Meanwhile, things aren’t great inside Winterfell either. The walls are warm, they have a giant castle to stay inside, and they have food with them, but they are running out, leaving the common men to eat porridge while the knights and lords eat salted ham. Not only that, but there are numerous murders inside the castle that leave people on edge. As Mance Rayder (disguised as the bard Abel, an anagram of Bael) and his spearwives (the washerwomen) are committing various murders, Hosteen Frey blames Wyman Manderly, and Manderly mocks him, leading to Hosteen nearly getting violent with him. It gets back enough that Roose, the man who is described as cold and calculating and feels nothing, shows a hint of fear.

Eventually, there are horns blown and drums beat outside the castle, leading people to believe Stannis has finally reached them. However, it is Crowfood and his green boys who have arrived, and the horns and drums increase the tension inside the castle, and Ramsay later is seen in a foul mood, which Theon attributes to his inability to sleep well given the noise.

This culminates in Little Walder’s murder, which Hosteen blames Wyman for as well. When Wyman insults Big Walder, Hosteen wounds and kills several men and severely wounds Lord Wyman in a blind rage, before Roose and Ramsay force him to stop. Seeing no other option, Roose decides to send Hosteen out with the Freys to attack Stannis, having just received a map of the crofter’s village from Maester Tybald, who is secretly relaying messages to Roose while staying with the Karstarks and Stannis.

As the Freys prepare to leave for battle, the spearwives and Theon help “Arya” escape, but things go very wrong when Jeyne squeals after seeing the spearwives kill a Bolton man, sending Bolton men down onto them. The spearwives fight off the Boltons, only to die, leaving Theon and Jeyne by themselves as crossbow bolts are flung at them. They have no choice but to jump off the battlements into the snow. We’ll get back to this in a bit. The stage is set for battle. Now it begins.

The battle of ice

Meanwhile, the Freys emerge to attack the Umbers outside, but they fall into snow covered pits they have dug, leading to a quick, initial victory for Stannis’s loyalists. Hosteen’s horse is killed, as well as his half-brother Aenys. This is a major blow to the Freys, since Hosteen is noted as not being the brightest, as well as angry and impulsive, while Aenys was the clever commander of the two. Thanks to Tycho Nestoris leaving Deepwood Motte to search for Stannis, he arrives at Winterfell, hoping he would have already taken it, and with the ironborn he ransomed from the Glovers to use as his guards, takes Theon and “Arya” to the crofter’s village where Stannis is positioned.

Now we get into the stuff we learned from the Theon I TWOW sample chapter that has been released. In it, Theon is hanging from chains in the watchtower, as Stannis makes a deal with the Iron Bank (signing in his own blood since the ink has frozen), and decides to send Justin Massey to Braavos with Tycho to hire 20,000 sellswords (and notably asking for archers) and ferry them to him from Eastwatch. He also has Justin bring “Arya” with him to drop off at Castle Black as a gift to Jon Snow. Then he gets the letter Jon sent to him that Tycho picked up from Deepwood Motte warning him of the Karstark betrayal, learns from Maester Tybald that Roose has a map of the village, and imprisons him, the Karstarks themselves, and their men (who are confined to the longhall).

He then interrogates Theon about the defenses at Winterfell, and says that Roose has blundered by letting his men out of the castle. Theon states that the Freys and Manderlys will come for him separately, and Ramsay will not be far behind, since he will want his bride and his Reek back. Despite Theon’s immense fear of Ramsay and warning Stannis of him, Stannis seems very confident and is not concerned about any of his enemies, and speaks of using the ground to his advantage. Then Asha arrives, and suggests to Stannis that instead of burning Theon to death for his crimes, he should execute him with Lightbringer at the weirwood islet on the lake to please the Northmen, as the ravens speak Theon’s name and shout “tree”... Hello, Bran. Hello, Bloodraven.

And thus concludes the set up. Stannis is ready for battle, to face the three threats that come to oppose him at the village, and he is confident. Things are starting to look up for Stannis. I do want to mention, however, that Stannis may not be entirely accurate in his assessment of Roose’s strategy. While Roose’s initial strategy was to sit in Winterfell and have Stannis succumb to the weather, that proved unable to be the case. However, things would be much worse if Manderly, Frey, and Ramsay were left inside the castle, given that Hosteen literally attacked Wyman with the intent to kill him. In this case, I actually think that Roose did not blunder here, and made the best possible move he could’ve to avoid a total collapse inside Winterfell.

Given Wyman’s intent on betraying Roose, I think that he actually might’ve been intentionally instigating conflict inside Winterfell to undermine him. Roose knows the Freys are hated, even by his own supporters, like Lady Barbrey Dustin. He is also highly skeptical of Wyman’s loyalties.

"If my lady believes Lord Manderly wants to betray us, Lord Bolton is the one to tell.” "You think Roose does not know? Silly boy. Watch him. Watch how he watches Manderly. No dish so much as touches Roose's lips until he sees Lord Wyman eat of it first. No cup of wine is sipped until he sees Manderly drink of the same cask. I think he would be pleased if the fat man attempted some betrayal. It would amuse him.”

This isn’t as big of a blunder that Stannis seems to think. Nobody likes the Freys, he is highly suspicious of the Manderlys, and both are huge liabilities inside Winterfell. Roose is having them go essentially as sacrifices, knowing they will most likely die against Stannis, but hoping they weaken him along the way. I do not see Roose opening the gates for either of them should they return. Not only does he remove the sources of tension inside the castle, and rids himself of a potential enemy in his midst, he also allows himself less mouths to feed. While they have more food than Stannis, they are running out, and this would allow their food stores to last a little while longer when there are less people to feed.

As for Ramsay coming out, while it is not said in ADWD and only mentioned by Theon in TWOW, this makes a lot of sense. For starters, Ramsay is not a very patient man, and he is undoubtedly impatient and angry now that both his Reek and his bride are gone. Instead of having him take his wrath out on those inside Winterfell, it’s better to send him out to take his anger out on Stannis. He needs Arya back if he is to have a secure hold on the North, and it would make sense to have him be out to ensure the Manderlys and Freys don’t fight each other.

Despite Roose sending the Freys and Manderlys out to die, I actually think that he doesn’t want Ramsay to die. Ramsay is a useful tool for Roose, because while he is politically shortsighted, he is actually quite clever and cunning, and any atrocities he commits he can land the blame directly onto him. Ramsay is not only smart and capable, but he is the perfect patsy for Roose. Ramsay may be impulsive and angry, but he is particularly clever and thinks quickly on his feet. When he took the Hornwood, he dressed and disguised himself as Reek, while having the real (original) Reek dress as him, allowing Ser Rodrik to kill Reek thinking it was Ramsay, and taking Ramsay thinking it was Reek as prisoner as a witness to Ramsay’s crimes.

He then played Theon like a fiddle, coming up with the scheme of killing the miller’s boys and disguising them as Bran and Rickon. Later, when Theon let him leave to gather men to fight for Theon, Ramsay returned with 600 men from the Dreadfort, and approached Ser Rodrik, who was commanding almost 2,000 men. And yet, despite being outnumber 3:1 against a host that was prepared for battle, Ramsay defeats them, scattering the host and losing only 20-30 men. Finally, he retook Moat Cailin by sending out Theon to parley with them and agree to a surrender. He is vicious, cruel, and utterly sadistic, but he’s not to be underestimated.

Regardless, I think Stannis will find much less intimidating foes in Ser Hosteen Frey and the Manderlys. Now I’m about to get into some very spoilery territory, from a fragment of a chapter that was leaked online. In 2014, George RR Martin did an interview on Last Week Tonight with John Oliver, which had a photo of him at his desk working over a chapter in TWOW. Some enormous dorks decided to zoom and enhance, and managed to make out some of what was on the screen. The short of it; the Freys have arrived, carrying the banners of King Tommen, and House Frey, with Crowfood Umber’s head impaled on what appears to be a weirwood spear as a mock banner to try to demoralize Stannis’s men.

Now, this doesn’t tell us a lot, other than Crowfood Umber is dead. This isn’t a big surprise, given that Stannis himself says that the Umbers won’t be able to hold back the Freys for long. However, this was foreshadowed earlier in ADWD.

"If it comes to swords, see where Hother's banner flies and put Mors on the other end of the line."The Giantslayer disagreed. "You would make His Grace look weak. I say, show our strength. Burn Last Hearth to the ground and ride to war with Crowfood's head mounted on a spear, as a lesson to the next lord who presumes to offer half his homage." "A fine plan if what you want is every hand in the north raised against you.”

Welp, Crowfood’s head is mounted on a spear, the North already hates the Freys... this seems pretty clear that the Freys are doomed. Regardless, it’s time to talk about what tactics Stannis might employ against the Freys. While the Freys have the advantage of being on horseback and well fed, Stannis means to use the ground to his advantage. We don’t actually know a lot about the geography of the village, other than there are two frozen lakes to either side of it, and forest all around them.

When he says turning the ground to his advantage, Stannis might be talking about using the frozen lakes. As southrons, the Freys are not going to be very familiar with the North, and freshly fallen snow on the ice is going to cause them to think it might be secure. In addition, by cutting holes in the ice, it would weaken it, and make it easier for them to break through the ice and freeze and/or drown to death. That said, that won’t be enough to defeat the Freys entirely on their own. Even someone as dumb as Ser Hosteen wouldn’t be stupid enough to put all his men on a lake and conveniently be killed in one fell swoop.

While Stannis could be setting up more hidden pits, I think that he could use a similar strategy the clansmen used on the ironborn at Deepwood Motte. There, some of the clansmen were disguised as bushes, allowing them to creep towards the ironborn mostly undetected. A similar kind of deception I feel is very likely as well. Stannis might even send some clansmen ahead outside the village to ambush the Freys and give him more time to set up at the village, slowing their march down.

Without knowing the full extent of the terrain at the village, it is difficult to say exactly what Stannis is planning to do, but I think he is primed to wipe out the Freys. They have a lot of disadvantages (not the brightest commander, are essentially sacrifices, unfamiliar with the North, hated by the North), and Stannis is very confident in his plans, even if they are as yet unsaid. Personally, I think the Freys are going to be demolished by Stannis, and it will be the height of his battlefield prowess. We should also note that Stannis has considered that the Karstark soldiers most likely did not know about Arnolf’s planned betrayal, and thus could be useful in the upcoming battle. Ramsay expects the Karstarks to be his big key to destroying Stannis, but he will need to change his tactics once he learns the truth about the Karstarks.

After the Freys come, we have the Manderlys. Given the Manderlys are willing to betray Roose, it will be interesting to see what they will do here. Wyman is working with Robett Glover and sends Davos to Skagos to retrieve Rickon. If they have Rickon, they will officially declare for Stannis. I don’t expect Davos to have retrieved Rickon yet (we are going to see Skagos and I don’t see us skipping over that important part so early), so I don’t think the Manderlys will 100% betray Roose and join Stannis. Even then, Stannis thinks the Manderlys killed Davos and does not like them. Instead, I think the Manderlys are going to pull a bit of a Roose.

In order to hedge their bets, not totally declaring for Stannis, and not totally keeping loyal to the Boltons, they will attack Stannis’s camp, but try to lose on purpose. Do the least amount of damage to both themselves and Stannis as possible. That way if they do eventually turn to Stannis’s side, they can point to that as a reason to try to trust them. However, I still think there could be a possibility that the Manderlys won’t do anything. For one, Lord Wyman is severely wounded (three of his four chins were cut), and too fat to sit a horse besides to lead his own men into battle. How much do his own men know about his plans? Is it like the Karstarks where only the noble commanders know the plan and the common soldiers are unaware? Or are the common soldiers in on the plan too? Regardless, only 300 Manderlys won’t do a lot of damage to Stannis.

The pink letter

No discussion of the battle of ice is complete without the pink letter. Yes, I purposefully didn’t touch upon what I think will happen with Ramsay, because it is tied to this.

Your false king is dead, bastard. He and all his host were smashed in seven days of battle. I have his magic sword. Tell his red whore. Your false king's friends are dead. Their heads upon the walls of Winterfell. Come see them, bastard. Your false king lied, and so did you. You told the world you burned the King-Beyond-the-Wall. Instead you sent him to Winterfell to steal my bride from me. I will have my bride back. 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. 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. Send them to me, bastard, and I will not trouble you or your black crows. Keep them from me, and I will cut out your bastard's heart and eat it. It was signed, Ramsay Bolton, Trueborn Lord of Winterfell.

The pink letter is a very hotly debated fandom topic, with many questioning its authorship, contents, and overall validity. It definitely did come as a shock to those who first read ADWD, when we have set up for a battle to come, and then not only do we not see the battle, but we then get a letter saying “yeah, Stannis is dead, I defeated him, I have proof of your lies, follow my demands or you will be next”. However, I already explained in the beginning why I think it is that way, and it has less to do with the letter being a full fraud than the editing issues for ADWD. That said, I think we are supposed to question some of it, but most of it is still likely to be true.

To get this out of the way, I 100% the letter was written by Ramsay. The letter is written exactly how I imagine an enraged Ramsay would write it, I don’t find the lack of skin or blood ink incriminating (not all the letters he sent have skin or blood attached to them), nor the smeared pink wax (possibly opened and closed back up poorly, or Ramsay was in a hurry). I’m going to go through each claim the letter makes and analyze it myself.

Stannis is dead: No. I mean, I wouldn’t be surprised, but given we know Stannis will burn Shireen, that implies he survives, so I think this is the biggest lie in the letter, and probably the only real lie. The point of everything but this being a lie is that it is enough for Jon to be driven to break his vows and march south. You don’t need to fake everything else about the letter, just this, because if Stannis is dead, then Jon feels more obligation to march against Ramsay, not only because he wants to, but because he believes he is the only one who is doing so. So I rank this part as false.

Stannis’s host was defeated in seven days of battle: I think this holds up, actually. Now of course, people can’t fight for seven days straight with no rest, but what can happen is on and off fighting for seven days. How exactly we get to seven days I’m not entirely sure of, but think of it this way; Stannis is at the village, he expects three attacks from three enemies. We also have Crowfood Umber outside Winterfell. I don’t see Crowfood lasting longer than two days, so there you have two days of fighting. Then you get the Freys attack on the village, then the Manderlys, and then Ramsay’s, so now you have five days. It takes three days to march to the village from Winterfell, so perhaps if we include the two days of marching (the third would include battle) we make it up to seven. That is if you add the marching, however. It’s not unlikely that Stannis might send more eager men ahead to slow the Freys march, so I think it could easily lead to seven days of battle. Regardless, we don’t have any of the main battle before us to say for certain, so I’m not entirely confident on this. Nonetheless, I still categorize this as plausible.

Ramsay has Lightbringer: Unfortunately, I think he does have Lightbringer. More later but I’m going to say this is true.

Mance Rayder has been caught and sits in a cage in the open wearing the flayed skins of the spearwives: This is by far the most likely to be true part of the letter, honestly. Last we saw of the rescue mission it was going very badly. The Bolton men were openly fighting the spearwives, several of the spearwives were killed, and the Boltons were firing crossbow bolts at and rushing towards Theon and Jeyne when they jumped by themselves. The spearwives were disguised as washerwomen who joined Mance, disguised as the bard Abel. It doesn’t take long to figure out Abel’s association with the washerwomen, and for him to be taken to be tortured for information. All the surprising info, from Mance being alive, to information of Jon’s activities at the Wall and even the use of “black crows” (although I think this is still derogatory northern slang in general for the Night’s Watch), probably came from Mance. It sucks because Mance is one of my favourite characters, but I really think that he’s 100% in the cage. So this is most likely true.

Asking for Selyse, Shireen, Melisandre, Val, and Mance’s child: And threatening to march on the Wall. I think this is a very serious demand. Ramsay just defeated Stannis, now he wants to crush any possible remnant of Stannis and his allies remaining. Asking for the Night’s Watch to give them to him is probably a move that he might expect to yield fruitful results. If Jon Snow wanted to preserve the Night’s Watch and ensure they aren’t destroyed, he’d heed to Ramsay’s demands. However, Jon hates Ramsay, and instead decided to desert and retake Winterfell himself. On the other hand, Ramsay might kill Jon and the Night’s Watch anyways. They let the wildlings through the Wall with Stannis, and the North is not going to be happy about that. In order to satisfy his anger, his sadism, and the northern lords who hate the free folk, he might just kill Jon and the wildlings anyways. So I think this is plausible.

Asking for “Arya” and Reek: Arya is straightforward. Stannis sent Jeyne to the Wall as a gift to Jon, so of course Ramsay won’t find her. Asking for Reek is a different matter, and definitely notable because if Ramsay defeated and actually killed Stannis, wouldn’t he have gotten Theon back? I think this is hinting towards something happening during the battle we don’t expect or don’t really know much as of yet. As for how Ramsay thinks Jon has Theon, it might be that he tortured some people to learn that “Arya” was on her way to Castle Black, and since Theon is also gone, he too much be on his way to the Wall. Still, it is curious, and we don’t have the battle in front of us, so I’m gonna say this is undetermined.

Now you may notice that I talked an awful lot about Stannis having been defeated by Ramsay. That’s because I think that is the most likely outcome, sadly. I think Stannis gave a good fight, lasted longer than he by rights should’ve, before Ramsay defeated him. In all theories that include trying to explain how Stannis could win the battle and take Winterfell, I find there are an awful lot of assumptions that sometimes stretch believability or conveniently ignore some factors.

For instance, the trojan horse idea that Stannis dresses his own troops as Frey men, and uses Manderly and Karstark troops to bring Lightbringer as evidence of Stannis’s defeat, and that’s why Ramsay wrote what he wrote. That conveniently ignores that Roose doesn’t trust any of them and being a cunning perceptive person, would not let them back in, even if he believed Stannis was dead. Perhaps maybe Ramsay killed him and Ramsay let them in, but if that was the case, why did Ramsay not call himself Warden of the North? He would be warden after Roose dies, and Lord of the Dreadfort. A narcissist like him would take advantage of that.

Ultimately, the simplest explanation is that Stannis made some sort of tactical error, which would be upsetting but not unheard of, or got goaded into a trap by Ramsay. Without knowing what Stannis’s ultimate plan is at the village, it’s impossible to say how this could happen, same way as it’s impossible to truly say how Stannis defeats the Freys. Yes, he have spent all of ADWD leading to this battle, but narratively, it really does back the most sense for Stannis to lose.

For one, he’s very stubborn and on his march to Winterfell, he shows no signs of stopping, and even says they will free Winterfell or die in the attempt. He even admits to Justin Massey that he might be dead and that it might be true. I don’t think he has a long term plan to fake his death, but will ultimately be forced to. If the Manderlys want to still appear loyal to the Boltons while helping Stannis, they could easily rescue him and maybe fake his death for him. Everything we have in front of us is set up for Stannis to win. He’s lost before, he’s fighting against all odds, he’s a brilliant commander, he’s confident. This is the moment of the story where the hero finally pulls an upset and wins.

However, life is not a song, and a lot of people even in Stannis’s camp ignore the issues they are dealing with, convinced that they are about to win a major, major victory. If Stannis does lose, that doesn’t mean the war for the North is over, far from it. We have the Manderlys who are plotting in secret with the Glovers to betray the Boltons. We have the crannogmen who have yet to make a major appearance. And we have Rickon on Skagos, where men ride unicorns and are rumoured to be cannibals. While we see Stannis on campaign, we are setting up for the war of the North to continue subtly, with different players.

But the most convincing argument that Stannis loses has to do with the Starks. Stannis already offered to give Winterfell to Jon, and Jon refused. When Stannis is rumoured to be dead, Jon decides to take matters into his own hands and take Winterfell back. Winterfell isn’t the home of Stannis, it’s the home of Jon, Arya, Sansa, Rickon, and Bran. The Starks have been beat down repeatedly, but they are about to make a come back. They lost their home, and they will retake it. The Boltons are the ancient enemy of the Starks, and their rivalry will end as it began; with Stark vs. Bolton.

In part 2, I will talk about how the North will return to the Starks in TWOW and how things are going to get worse for a lot of people before they get better. I hope you enjoyed this essay, it was very fun to write!

#asoiaf #asoiaf meta #stannis #jon snow #ramsay bolton #winterfell #the winds of winter #the winds of winter predictions #roose bolton

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themockingpoint · 4 years

Text

Queen Sansa 15 years later

Day 8- Queen Sansa

I tried invoking the feel of the first chapter of aGoT with this. Hope I was successful. Sansa takes her daughter to her first execution.

The morning is almost warm but also misty, showing signs of the beginnings of spring. Vorianne is very nervous as this is the first time her mother has deemed her old enough to accompany her to see a man executed. Her father may have argued with her mother about her going so young, but the good Queen Sansa had argued that she was long passed the age that she should have joined her mother. It is the first month of Vori’s second spring. she is nearly twelve years old, and Queen Sansa has reigned for fifteen years.

The man in question is Doran Glover, son of Robett Glover. During the Dozen King war, Vori’s mother banished House Glover from the North for treason. They repeatedly abandoned House Stark in their hour of need and her mother could not abide by that. They were given numerous chances and Robett threw them all away.

Vori’s mother is solemn as they ride to the gallows. She looks regal in her lethal armor, her auburn hair but without the few streaks of grey, she looks much younger than her thirty-five years. Her blue eyes are grim, and Vorianne struggles to see the woman who sits before the fire in the evening to tell her children stories of the age of heroes and the children of the forest. Vori thinks that Mother has taken off her Mother’s face and is now wearing the face of the Lady of Winterfell.

Most would not know it, but Vori could tell that her mother was upset about having to do this. She was not a cruel woman despite what her detractors say. The boy was only a few years older than Vori was and even the Barbrey Dustin woman who hated the Starks agreed her mother made a good decision.

Once they got there saw Lady Barbrey Dustin of the Barrowlands, Lady Joelle Cerwyn, Lady Beth Cassel whose family took over Hornwood when their House died out, and Lord Rodrik Forrester whose family took over Deepwood Motte when the Glovers were banished and the reason they were all there that day, as he reported the boy to her mother.

When House Glover was first banished from the North, Queen Sansa gave them a moon’s turn to flee or their lives would be forfeit. It had been a clear message for the rest of the house of the North that Vori’s mother meant business. The Northern Houses had not been as loyal to the Starks as they had in the past when Vori’s mother took over. She needed to lay down the law quickly and luckily most of the old guard had passed away and most of the current Lords and Ladies were loyal to queen Sansa.

Vori’s eyes widened as Dariss Wells, her mother’s captain of the guard led the boy to the gallows, hands tied behind his back but struggling all the way. Vori could not understand how he could be so defiant. He was going to die that; she could just tell from her mother’s face that it was going to happen. She knows the Glover boy was too proud to take the black, which means his life is forfeit.

“If you have any last words, now would be the time to say them.” Queen Sansa said, as her squire, Jaycen of House Crowl handed her the Valyrian steel blade. Secret Keeper had been in the Starks for generations. While its original form was stolen and broken apart, her mother eventually took it back and renamed it to honor her grandfather’s sacrifice.

“You stupid whore queen!” The boy said, nearly spitting at her mother. You took my ancestral home! My birth right!”

Queen Sansa sighed as the noose was fitted around his neck. She knew the boy was a second son and would not inherit anyway so she had no idea what he was thinking coming here. Her mother’s support in the North was at an all-time high since she helped install the greenhouses in all of the major keeps. Not to mention the Starks had strong support from her mother’s Arryn cousin in the Vale, Uncle in the Riverlands, sister in the Stormlands, and support from Princess Arianne after Vori’s father helped her take back Dorne from the pretender prince, this boy was never going to drum up enough support to actually take the North and probably even Deepwood Motte.

“I, Queen Sansa Stark, first of my name. Queen of the First Men and Shield of the North do sentence you to die.” She unsheathed Secret Keeper and walked down to the rope, keeping the platform up.

Vori’s cousin Lynarra leaned closer to her. “Don’t look away, Vori. Your mother will know if you do.”

Vori does not look away as Queen Sansa cuts through the rope in a single stroke. Her mother would never be strong enough to slice through a neck completely in one stroke. The hanging is the more humane way of doing this. Vori flinches as she hears the boy’s neck snap. She cannot take her eyes off the boy as he swings from the gallows.

“You did good.” Lynarra said, to her as she put her hand on Vorianne‘s shoulder.

Lynarra was two years older than Vori currently fostering in Winterfell from her homeland down in Storm’s End. She was the perfect picture of Vorianne’s mother. Auburn hair, Blue eyes Tall with high cheek bones. Meanwhile Vori was a picture of Lynarra’s mother with her brown hair and long face, with only Vori’s indigo eyes marking a difference. Most think that it is hilarious that the sisters daughters take after the wrong one, but she does not think that Aunt Arya finds it very funny…

“You did…” Her mother said, the Queen of the North face sliding back to allow her much warmer mother’s face.

“He died bravely at least.” Lynarra said, back home she had been to numerous executions, her own mother had been bringing her since she was ten.

Her mother shot Lynarra a look and the red head urged her horse forward. “Are you alright?” Sansa asked her, not unkindly.

“Yes, Mother.” Vori said looking to her mother. While tall for a woman, to Vori Sansa Stark seemed a giant.

“What does that mean?” Vori asked, before she could stop herself. “Died bravely.”

“It means even though he was obviously scared and posturing to save face, the boy died with dignity.” Sansa replied, after a moment on compilating. “Do you know why I was the one who had to do it?”

“Our way is the old way.” Vorianne said, without hesitation.

“And what does that mean?” Sansa asked, but Vori did not have an answer.

“It means that the man who passes the sentence should swing the sword. If you can’t bear to look a man into the eyes and hear his final words, then maybe the man does not deserve to die.” Sansa said, taking her daughters hand and squeezing it firmly. “Someone who hides behind a paid executioner soon forgets what death truly is. You are my Heir Vorianne.” Vori rolls her eyes as her mother is the only one in the family that refuses to use her nickname. “You will be doing this one day. You may not enjoy the task, but yu can’t shy away from justice either.”

“I- I understand mother…” Vori said as Winterfell once again came into sight. Two horses rose out to great the part.

“Mother, mother, mother!” Catelyn Stark said, as she rode out to greet the party, their father a little behind her. No one in Winterfell was as good a horseman as Vori’s little sister.

“Caty, Caty, Caty!” Sansa said, sarcastically back to her over excited daughter. Sansa did not like nicknames but considering Vori had two other cousins name Catelyn, and Vori’s brother shared a name with their father it was necessary to use nicknames for her younger siblings.

Her daughter smiled sheepishly as their father caught up with them. “Caty!” He admonished. “What did I tell you about running like that?”

“Sorry father…” She said, looking down.

“You always look at your feet when you lie.” Her mother said with a cocked eyebrow. If Vorianne was a dead ringer for their aunt, Catelyn was a picture-perfect version of their mother. Only their grandfather’s grey eyes separated her looks from their mother. “Did you know that? Now what do you want?”

“Storm! She is giving birth!” Catelyn said grey eyes shining in excitement.

“Well… we cannot miss that!” Sansa said, and spurred the group on. Storm was the Direwolf that Vori’s mother’s men found a few sennights ago

“We’ve missed two already!” She said excitedly as the group took off.

By the time the group got back three more Direwolf pups had been born. Vori’s brother Neddy had been dancing around in glee. Named for their grandfather, Neddy had their father’s blond hair, but otherwise had entirely stark features.

“This one is mine!” The boy said, pointing to the one whose sack was just licked off by Storm.

“Oh is it?” Their mother said, cocking an eyebrow. Caty, Neddy and Lynarra all looked guilty but Vorianne knew her mother was bluffing. She had been telling them all that the Direwolves weren’t pets, but Vori heard her mother secretly tell their father that she was going to allow them to keep the pets.

A chorus of begging before Vorianne spoke up, “Mother, the Direwolf is the sigil of House Stark. Uncle Bran’s Direwolf, Uncle Robb’s Direwolf and even Uncle Jon’s Direwolf protected them until the end. There are eight of them, three boys five girl pups. Same as the oldest grandchildren of Eddard Stark.”

Queen Sansa’s resolve visibly weakened for a few moments as she realized what Vori said was true. Finally after remembering that Arya was already traveling north with her children she said, “Alright…” she said, “But you will train them yourselves. I will not have wasting the servants time with this.” She said, taking their father’s hand before walking off.

Vori smiled. She may be cold as ice when she is Queen of the North but Vorianne’s mother was a big softy underneath it all.

#sansa stark #queen of the north #we know no queen but the queen in the north whose name is stark #sansa stark appreciation week 2020 #ned dayne #queen sansa #direwolves

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mtg-cards-hourly · 4 years

Photo

Deepwood Drummer

His drums echo Deepwood's heartbeat.

Artist: Ron Spears TCG Player Link Scryfall Link EDHREC Link

#mtg #magic the gathering #tcg #$0.08 #ron spears #deepwood drummer #mercadian masques #creature #human #spellshaper

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gbhbl · 2 years

Text

Album Review: Slob - Deepwoods Shack Of Sodomy (Comatose Music)

The simplicity of Slob’s aggressive death metal sound hides a really nasty underbelly of filth.

Two-piece UK murder machine Slob were formed back in 2013, but it’s only now that they are finally ready to uncover the rotten corpse of their debut album, Deepwoods Shack of Sodomy. Beneath the damp soil Ross Honour (Guitar) and James Murphy (Guitar/Vocals/Drum Programming) have been concealing a multitude of sins which Comatose Music have finally coaxed them into revealing. Experience it…

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#Album Review #Comatose Music #Death metal #Deepwoods Shack Of Sodomy #Slob

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dragons-bones · 6 years

Note

Synnove for the thingie

Also @shroud-father, since you sent a thingie too. :3

01. Full name: Synnove Greywolfe

02. Best friend: In WoL canon, Rereha Reha, Dancing Heron, and Alakhai Noykin. In RP canon, those guys plus @tehjai‘s Keltgeim and @aethericgeometry‘s A’khebica.

03. Sexuality: Bisexual, though tends to prefer men

04. Favorite color: Green (especially hunter and deepwood green)

05. Relationship status: WoL canon: totally dating Aymeric de Borel. In RP canon: there may be an Ishgardian boyfriend? No one is sure, and the Guild thinks that’s a hoax, Synnove is clearly married to SCIENCE!

06. Ideal mate: Someone intelligent and courteous; they don’t have to understand her arcanima jargon, but appreciating her enthusiasm for her life’s work (and knowing it might take precedence) is very important to her. Combat abilities a plus. Taller than her is a super plus.

07. Turn-ons: Martial prowess. Keen strategic abilities. Being able to throw her over one shoulder without breaking a sweat.

08. Favorite food: Spicy seafood cocktails, sweets, coffee

09. Crushes: Aymeric de Borel (yes she still crushes on her bf in WoL canon), Merlwyb Bloefhiswyn (who in Limsa Lominsa doesn’t, honestly), Raubahn Aldynn (shut up she grew up in Ul’dah, every Ala Mhigan girl had a crush on him).

10. Favorite music: Ala Mhigan drum songs, sea shanties

11. Biggest fear: Turning into her mother.

12. Biggest fantasy: Gutting Bahrim Zarir with her bare hands. Having an equation named after herself.

13. Bad habits: Staying awake for too damned long while in the depths of a research bender and then accidentally blowing something up because wired!Synnove thought it was a good idea.

14. Biggest regret: Not getting on a boat to Thavnair the first time Bahrim Zarir plagiarized her work.

15. Best kept secrets: No one has seen the full 3D rendering of the carbuncles’ summoning arrays. Khebi has seen the most of ‘em and could probably extrapolate, but the core sigils haven’t been seen by anyone other than Synnove.

16. Last thought: “Galette, get your face out of the-”

17. Worst romantic experience: That one time in Radz-at-Han attending a professional conference. No, it wasn’t with Bahrim Zarir. Yes, she gave someone a black eye. No, she isn’t going to talk about it.

18. Biggest insecurity: Wondering if her obsession with arcanima is just as bad as her mother’s obsession with rebuilding the Greene Shipping Consortium.

19. Weapon of choice: Grimoire, fists, and three ferociously protective carbuncles.

20. Role Model: Aunt Angharad, Acting Guildmistress Thubyrgeim

#cyborgsurprise #dt answers thing #meme stuff #final fantasy xiv #oc: synnove greywolfe

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turtle-paced · 7 years

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Stannis is a misogynist? I don't remember him doing or saying anything notably more sexist or hostile than any other Westerosi man might do or say. Or do you mean that all Westerosi men are misogynistic to varying degrees?

No, I mean that Stannis really doesn’t like women. Don’t much like judging this sort of thing against Stannis’ peers either; Randyll Tarly’s misogyny doesn’t make anyone else’s any less.

For a start, anyone who calls a woman “woman,” especially when they know her name, gets a side-eye from me. Though Stannis does try to show his wife respect, we do get stuff like this:

“No man may withstand him!” the queen cried.

“Be quiet, woman. You are not at a nightfire now.”

and

She threw her arms around his legs. “He is only oneboy, born of your brother’s lust and my cousin’s shame.”

“He is mine own blood. Stop clutching me, woman.”

- both from Davos V, ASoS

I believe the respectful term here would be “my lady.” While Selyse’s pro-Edric-burning position is not one worthy of respect, note how Stannis reduces Selyse to her gender when she’s getting all ~emotional~ about the matter. The manner in which Stannis shows her this deserved disrespect nevertheless reveals something about his attitudes more generally.

Asha observes outright that Stannis doesn’t like women.

But there was noexplaining such things to Stannis Baratheon. Her very womanhoodseemed to offend him. Men from the green lands liked their womensoft and sweet in silk, she knew, not clad in mail and leather with athrowing axe in each hand. But her short acquaintance with the king atDeepwood Motte convinced her that he would have been no morefond of her in a gown. Even with Galbart Glover’s wife, the piousLady Sybelle, he had been correct and courteous but plainlyuncomfortable. This southron king seemed to be one of those men towhom women are another race, as strange and unfathomable as giantsand grumkins and the children of the forest. The She-Bear made himgrind his teeth as well.

- The King’s Prize, ADWD

Their interaction later that chapter shows what Asha’s told us.

Stannis looked at her as he might look at a dog who presumedto hump against his leg. “You earned those irons.”

[…]

“Strike off these irons and let me help you take it, Sire. YourGrace’s royal brother was renowned for turning fallen foes intofriends. Make me your man.”

“The gods did not make you a man. How can I?”

But even this has nothing on this charming bit.

“Mother’s milk is all they share. Gilly’sson is larger and more robust. He kicks the prince and pinches him,and shoves him from the breast. Craster was his father, a cruel manand greedy, and blood tells.”

The king was confused. “I thought the wet nurse was this manCraster’s daughter?”

“Wife and daughter both, Your Grace. Craster married all hisdaughters. Gilly’s boy was the fruit of their union.”

“Her own father got this child on her?” Stannis soundedshocked. “We are well rid of her, then. I will not suffer suchabominations here. This is not King’s Landing.”

“I can find another wet nurse. If there’s none amongst thewildlings, I will send to the mountain clans. Until such time, goat’smilk should suffice for the boy, if it please Your Grace.”

“Poor fare for a prince … but better than whore’s milk, aye.”Stannis drummed his fingers on the map. “If we may return to thematter of these forts …”

- Jon I, ADWD

Well rid of Gilly. When Jon tells him outright, and honestly, that Craster was a piece of work. And “whore’s milk.”

Well.

You see why I call Stannis a misogynist.

#ASoIaF #cw: rape mention #cw: misogyny #stannis baratheon #a storm of swords #a dance with dragons #asks

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dragons-bones · 6 years

Text

Entry #25: Assessments

FFXIV Write 2017 prompt #25: Obsolete

A/N: Shippy goodness and academic snobbishness! Score!

Aymeric rubbed his tired eyes as he walked through the Greater Library of the Vault, fighting back a yawn. He had spent the majority of the day deep in the stacks, going through pre-Calamity trade records in preparation for a related matter coming to the Parliamentary floor for discussion and debate. It was important, especially since he’d be mediating in the House of Lords (the Speaker for the House of Commons had similar headaches herding the coeurls there, and how often grown men acted like children, but he did not have to deal with a thousand years of carefully cultivated and maintained feuds and grudges), but he would be a liar if he claimed it was fascinating work.

At least it had meant he had not been bothered as he would have, had he spent the day in his office in the Congregation or at home.

He lost the fight against exhaustion, covering his mouth with a hand and yawning so hard he felt a muscle in his jaw cramp in protest. ‘And this is why the other Alliance leaders have a retinue of aides with them at all times,’ he thought as he passed through the mathematics and sciences section, briefly noting a spot of deepwood green and shining topaz out of the corner of his eye. ‘They are the ones keeping track of all the minutiae. Count Edmont and Lucia are, as always, correct; I need to begin delegating at least the minor tasks, else I’ll go mad before the year is out.’

He was nearly to the reference desk at the library’s entrance, when he halted mid-stride, blinking in surprise as his mind finally finished processing the colors he’d seen.

‘Wait.’

He turned on his heel and walked back to the mathematics and sciences section. He glanced back and forth between the rows, not pausing until- there!

‘Found you,’ he thought fondly.

There was no mistaking that particular form sitting hunched on top of a ladder, forehead in hand as she turned the pages of a book in her lap. Especially when it was combined with the sheepdog-sized carbuncle sitting patiently at the ladder’s base.

Aymeric smiled as he walked down the row, briefly glancing at the titles. Arcanima, of course; these were old tomes, however, and only one or two were ones he’d seen grace the shelves of Synnove’s office in Mealvaan’s Gate.

He did not attempt to step softly, as it was always a poor idea to sneak up on a warrior, but apparently Synnove was deeply enough engrossed in her text to not register his approach. Tyr, however, looked over as soon as he noticed the loud clacking boots heels on stone floor coming closer to his mistress. He perked his ears up and came over to meet Aymeric, shoving his face into the elezen’s hands.

“Maow!” the topaz carbuncle said, deep and echoing like a brass bell the way Galette’s voice was windchimes.

Aymeric laughed softly and obliging scratched behind his ears. Tyr thrummed happily, enjoying the attention for a few moments, before he disengaged and went back to Synnove. He braced himself on the rungs of the ladder and reached up with his paw to tap her foot, chirruping quietly.

“Hmm? Whazzit, honey?” Synnove said, voice distant and distracted. She did not look up as she turned the page.

Tyr sat back on his haunches and said, “Maow!”

He hadn’t the faintest idea of what he’d said, but Synnove most certainly did, as her head jerked up in surprise. (He winced sympathetically; as she had straightened, her spine had made an awful crack.) She frantically looked around until her gaze settled on Aymeric. She blinked rapidly, quite obviously not yet comprehending what she was seeing, until a smile finally bloomed across her features, her green eyes crinkling at the corners. “Well, fancy meeting you here,” she said, her cheerfulness tempered by the slur of exhaustion in her voice.

There were dark circles under her eyes, her hair was unkempt, and her fingers were ever-so-slightly shaking from too much caffeine and not enough sleep, but Synnove Greywolfe was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

Aymeric grinned up at her, not bothering to disguise how besotted he was with no witnesses, and said, “What brings one of the celebrated Warriors of Light to Ishgard a bell before midnight?” He held out his arms.

Synnove winced as she closed and shelved the book she had been reading. “Thal’s balls, that late?” She slid to the edge of the ladder’s seat, pushed off, and unceremoniously dropped into his grasp.

He tightened his hold on her as he caught her, drawing her close, and he dropped a kiss on each of her eyelids, relishing the giggles the action elicited from her. Another kiss on her nose, one to the beauty mark at the corner of her mouth, and then he finally kissed her properly. Synnove, in turn, languidly draped her arms around his shoulders and ran her fingers through the hairs on the nape of his neck, practically purring as she did. He hummed appreciatively against her lips, and they both laughed into the kiss.

(Next to them, Tyr sighed, and rolled his eyes.)

Aymeric reluctantly drew away and set her on her feet, keeping Synnove steady as she wobbled and her spine cracked yet again. His beloved immediately leaned back into him, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her cheek over his heart. He smiled and returned the hug, resting his chin on her head. He closed his eyes and swayed with her gently, enjoying the familiar and much-missed comfort of her presence.

Finally, Synnove sighed and said, voice mostly muffled against his coat, “To answer your question, I’m here on Guild business. The Scholasticate sent a formal request to the Guild, asking for assistance in assessing the current state of Ishgard’s arcanima program. Guildmistress Thubyrgeim decided to send me, considering my history with Ishgard, and the Scholasticate in particular.”

“And I’m certain it has nothing to do with the roof being blown off one of the laboratories.”

She reached up and swatted his arm. “Hush, you.”

Aymeric snickered into her hair.

Synnove swatted him again before wrapping her arm back around him. “I had planned on saying hello to you this morning at the Congregation,” she said, “but you were in a meeting. So I came here to get a look at the reference material they had, and…” She drummed her fingers against his back and sighed. “Well, it’s me. Lost track of time.”

He hummed noncommittally. Any commentary on his part about her work habits would be the pot calling the kettle black. Instead, he said, “And what is the verdict on the state of the Republic of Ishgard’s arcanima program?”

She shifted, and he tilted his head so he could meet her gaze as she propped her chin on his chest. “Do you want the truth?” she said.

“Yes.”

“The whole truth?”

“Of course.”

“Nothing but the truth, so help you gods?”

“Absolutely.”

Synnove stared at him and said, utterly deadpan, “It’s shite.”

Aymeric burst out laughing.

“I am completely serious, love, it’s a godsdamned travesty,” she said, gesticulating wildly at the shelf behind them. “Most of these books were years out of date when Ishgard closed itself off before the Calamity. Shite is being generous, I have texts in their fourteenth edition that you have in only their first. There aren’t even any carbuncle summoning arrays that I can find! Does the Church have something against carbuncles?”

He pressed his face into her hair in a vain attempt to stifle his laughs. “My dear Synnove,” he said once he had slightly calmed, “have I told you recently how much I love you?”

“I love you, too, Aymeric, but I see what you’re doing, don’t distract me, this is serious-”

That drew a fresh peal of laughter from him, and he pulled her back into their hug. Synnove grumbled into his chest, but she was returning his embrace, so she wasn’t truly cross with him.

Finally, once his laughter was interrupted by a yawn, he said, “I am sure the Scholasticate can wait to hear your report tomorrow. For now, let’s get some food into you and put you to bed, hm?”

Synnove yawned herself and snuggled into his side as they began to walk down the row of shelves, Tyr obediently trotting after them. “Only if you’re joining me,” she said.

Aymeric dropped a kiss onto her hair. “Of course, my love.”

#ffxivwrite2017 #final fantasy xiv #dt's writing #aymeric de borel #aymeric x wol #aymeric x synnove #oc: synnove greywolfe #synnove's carbuncles

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