Tumgik
#maybe even a variation of Sandor
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I have a headcanon that Arya and Gendry had like four kids (sansa and Jon were probably like wtf) and they had three boys and then a girl. The oldest and youngest have the Baratheon look, while the middle kids have the Stark look.
I even tried coming up with names lmao so these are the names:
• Robb
• Eddard
• Can’t think of a third boy name any ideas lmao
• Shireen (because my girl needs to be honoured)
Shireen wants to work as a blacksmith like Gendry (I bet even though he’s now a lord he still sneaks away to be in the forge lol) so I can just imagine her as a little girl trying to join her dad in the forge.
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drowning-in-dennor · 4 years
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Finale
The finals of the Prix are over, and though the prizes have not been given out, it’s clear who will be a winner. [A continuation of this.] [Recommended watching: Black Swan Siegfried variation by Taisuke Nakao, Prix de Lausanne 2017 (the choreography he uses is the same as Henrik’s).]
  The real competition starts now.
  Class on stage is done, a commentator is greeting the jury outside and the finals have begun. In no particular order, the dancers will go out, perform their variations and it will be decided, once and for all, who will be victorious. If he dances well enough, Henrik will finally be able to prove himself better than Stellan.
  The dressing room is filled with a flurry of excitement, dancers zipping around like bees as they run to get missing pieces of their costume and various bottles of makeup. Henrik is preparing alone today, Berwald having run off to who-knows-where.
  His outfit is the same as yesterday’s, and he smooths out his black-and-gold jacket in front of a mirror. Stellan is applying his eyeliner at the dressing table next to him, wearing a T-shirt over his getup to prevent anything from staining his immaculate white clothes. When he finishes, batting his eyes, he says, “we’re going one after the other again.”
  “I know,” Henrik replies. “It’s weird, how everyone else is dancing in random order, while we’re doing it like we did during the selections.”
  Stellan carefully takes his T-shirt off. “Not that I’m complaining, though. We both know I’ll outshine you again.”
  “Again? When was the first time that happened?”
  Henrik doesn’t get an answer. He laughs. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
  That nervous look is back in Stellan’s eyes. He did so well during the selections, it’s hard to imagine that this is his very first competition. He twists the hem of his jacket, staring into space. “I’m praying no accidents happen up on stage. I don’t want to slip or lose my shoe or something.”
  “Don’t worry, that rarely happens.” Henrik gets up from his seat and walks towards the practice area. “If you quit worrying about it, your performance will be great. Just do what you did during the selections.”
  The first dancer to have performed emerges from backstage, red-faced and grinning. She’s immediately accosted by her friends, all of them offering words of reassurement. Stellan takes a look at them and sighs. “I can’t do it.”
  “What do you mean, you can’t? You did really well in the classes, aced the selections and got picked for the finals.” Henrik crosses his arms. “You can do this. You said you’re going to take this chance to beat me, and now you’re chickening out?”
  Sandor claps Stellan on the shoulder as he goes backstage. He takes a deep breath, hands trembling slightly. “There’s so much riding on the one minute I’ll be out on stage,” he murmurs. “If the audience doesn’t like me, if I have an accident, my reputation as a dancer will be ruined.”
  “What on earth are you talking about?” Henrik says incredulously. “One little performance won’t ruin your reputation, especially when we’re still students.”
  Stellan takes another deep breath and exhales shakily. “It’s just one little performance,” he repeats. “One little performance.”
  A girl dressed in a fire-red tutu scoops up her tambourine and runs backstage. Henrik is next. He looks at his rival, starting to feel a little jittery himself. “If it helps, imagine you’re dancing in an empty theatre.”
  “I’ll try that.” He looks up at Henrik, smiling nervously. “You’re up next, aren’t you?”
  Henrik nods. “How about a hug for good luck?”
  There’s a moment of hesitation before he steps closer to him. Stellan squeezes Henrk around the shoulders briefly, his hair tickling his cheek. “Do your best.”
  They separate, and Henrik goes backstage.
  On stage, the girl in red is just finishing up, brandishing her tambourine in a flourish to the cheering crowd. Then she leaves, and the theatre falls into silence once again. It’s time.
  As he waits for the music to begin, his entire training as a dancer appears to flash through him. Henrik sees himself as a three-year-old, watching a production of Napoli with his parents. He sees himself as a six-year-old, stepping into the Royal Danish Ballet School for his first-ever class.Years upon years of lessons, rehearsals and performances come back to him. Perhaps, without even one of those things, he wouldn’t be standing here today.
  He starts.
  After one pirouette, Henrik gets full view of backstage and sees Stellan, breathtaking as always, looking right back at him. His smile widens. 
  Like he did during the selections, he stays backstage to watch Stellan dance. Strangely, his performance this time is different. Though still floaty and enchanting, Stellan’s variation is different from before. The choreography is identical, of course, but this time his dancing has a touch of boldness. It’s his expression, surely — he no longer looks lazy and far-off. Now, those periwinkle eyes are sharp and bright; he is no longer drifting off on another planet. He fixes the audience with that penetrating gaze, his smile assured instead of wavering. 
  Unlike Henrik, he’s got everyone watching in the palm of his hand. Even he has to admit it — he could never compare.
  The audience is cheering, the applause thunderous and lingering even after Stellan makes his retreat backstage. His smile is intact. It’s proud; clearly he knows that Henrik has lost. “What do you think?”
  No words escape his mouth. He’s gaping at Stellan, the fact that he’s been outdone, out-danced, defeated slowly sinking in.
  “I told you I’d beat you,” he continues. “From the first day of the Prix, everyone knew I’d come out on top… except you. I’m glad the finals have confirmed that.”
  “Now, listen here — “
  “No two dancers performing the same variation have won a prize together, and that’s not going to change this year.” Stellan’s words cut, and his triumphant smile is only salt in the wound. “Maybe if you’d picked another variation, you would’ve had a chance of winning.”
  Red-hot rage suddenly digging its claws into him, Henrik grabs his wrist and tugs him towards himself, hissing, “take that back, you bastard. The prize-giving ceremony is in an hour, you don’t know if you’ve won yet.” He’s talking out of his rear now, but he doesn’t care. “Maybe the jury will have found me better and you might finally get humbler, then, uh…”
  It’s then that he realises how close Stellan is. Henrik can see the delicate flutter of his eyelashes, the soft pink of his cheeks, and, most jarringly, every detail on his lips. A warm weight settles at his shoulder, cold fingers inching towards his neck. Stellan blinks up at him. His smirk wavers.
  With his free hand, Henrik grips Stellan’s chin, tilting his face up slightly. His thumb is a hair away from brushing his lower lip. Stellan has his left arm hooked around his neck and he pulls him even closer. He stands on his tiptoes, lips even closer.
  Henrik strokes his wrist, watching as his blush turns even darker. “Can I, er…” It’s difficult to talk. “K-Kiss you?”
  Stellan tilts his head, not offering an answer before he leans forwards and connects their lips.
  The feeling of flight he gets from the sensation of Stellan’s lips against his is one he’s never felt from any grand allegro, nor any performance. His heart thuds, his head spins, and even though the next dancer is nearly halfway through her variation he can barely hear the music. When they pull away, and the heat pressing up against Henrik disappears, he nearly falls over. 
  Arm still around his neck, Stellan says, “you may not win a prize, but at leat you’ve won this.” His lips gleam. “And I think that’s better than anything the Prix can offer you.”
  “You’re right.” Henrik’s voice is hoarse. “I never thought you’d feel this way too, especially since you spent the entire week trying to crush me.”
  “Unfortunately, you grew on me.” Stellan waves away a dancer who shoots them a strange look as he passes. “You’ll be beside me during the prize-giving ceremony later.” 
  “We’ll be together to see you win, then.” Still giddy, Henrik takes his hand as they leave the backstage area.
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The Second Part of A Surprise for Yana
Ok this one took three days and I absolutely loved every part of re-reading all of the chapters!! So without further ado, here are all the sentences/half sentences that have either spoken to me or have just made me happy inside from the available chapters of The Last Time by @yanak324
THE LAST TIME
Ch.1 -The fight has seeped out of her, replaced by a dull ache that has only now in her sister’s presence begun to lift -Too bad she can’t fool herself as well as she can fool others -It seems like time hasn’t changed that, and in the proximity of the kitchen, she can’t avoid him forever Ch.2 -Relief that she’s alive, that she is here, that she had somehow found her way home again -But calling anything with Arya easy would be misleading -It’s a dangerous thing though, hope, especially when it comes to the woman across from him -And not the temporary kind of sadness, but rather the kind that roots deep into your bones and doesn’t let you go Ch.3 -But as they kept texting, all it did was make her feel warm, warm like only family can make you feel -I’ve been angry many times before, over a lot of things, and it’s never gotten me anywhere so, why resort to that? -Over the years, Sansa has learned to give her space, but her fascination with Arya’s and Gendry’s relationship has always overridden boundaries Ch.4 -She really is a child of the wilderness, Gendry thinks, as he treks behind her, admiring the snow-capped trees lining their path Ch.5 -Someone who protects and looks after the people around him -So much has changed since they saw each other that his general sameness grounds Arya in a very unexpected way Ch.6 -To not have a cloud of sadness following her at every turn -Suppose you can take the bastard out of Flea Bottom, but you can’t take the Flea Bottom out of the bastard -Having a slice of the Baratheon fortune did not mean he also had to inherit the fury Ch.7 -She misses him, and not like she would miss a friend -They’d helped each other grief and in the process, forged a new level of understanding, which has only grown -And how is that not love? (This one has a great callback, 7 chapters later)  -Who has grown into a man that has repeatedly shown her kindness she doesn’t deserve -It’s what brought her home as well – her pack -The only indication that he’s struggling with his temper is how tightly his fist curls around the bottle -But Gendry is different -After all, honesty has never done more harm than lying by omission -How could she, when even now, after mere months back in his orbit, she’s lightheaded all over again -Not when it’s making her feel more like herself, more alive than she has felt in ages Ch.8 -What he does know is that it’s only gotten more difficult to deny what his heart and mind are now firmly aligned on -Sure, it had been Sansa who introduced him to the family, but it was Arya who made him stay -He would have coped -In recent weeks, he’s begun to accept that caring about Arya Stark is as innate to him as breathing, and there’s nothing he can do about it other than embrace it -I’m still going to care about you Ch.9 -And it’s beyond that, he accepts her -Already a little drunk from both the two glasses she’s had and the firmness of Gendry’s grip on her hand -The way her siblings hang onto her and each other fills Arya with pure joy -The entire car ride was a blur – a dreamlike state of anticipation that left her feeling weightless, unfocused, dizzy – anchored only by the weight of his hand on her thigh -She could stay here forever, balanced tightly on the knife’s edge of euphoria -How perfectly he fits against her Ch.10 -Instead, he’d ridden the high of the last week that they’ve been officially together right into the ground -But Gendry learned a long time ago that wanting something didn’t equate to it being good for you -She too wears a layer of restraint like armor, but it doesn’t feel as right on her as it does on him Ch.11 -His sharp edges have smoothed over and in their place stands a well-molded man, who seems so sure of what he wants and doesn’t play games Ch.12 -Never trusted any of ‘em enough to let them -Fogging up both the windows and his mind with her breathy sighs -Maybe it’s the inevitability of it all, surrendering to the fact that Arya Stark is and always will be his weak spot -Gendry has never really believed that everything happens for a reason Ch.13 -Every time she’s in his arms, it feels a little bit like the absolution she’s been searching for -It had felt like she finally started to peel back the layers of armor she’d unknowingly put on -As though if she waits, he’ll slip through her fingers the same way Sandor did as he bled out onto the concrete floor -It haunts her now more than the scars from her own bloody knife -She feels restored and unbalanced at the same time, certain of some things but still wary of others -How seamlessly they fit together, as though they're two puzzle pieces falling into place Ch.14 -Just because her knife wounds have healed and scarred over doesn’t mean her body is completely back to normal -Her openness doesn’t so much catch Gendry off guard as it unfurls something deep inside him -Her grip on his forearm tightens and it feels like an anchor tethering him to this moment, to the space between them -Joy that he hasn’t allowed himself to feel in far too long -And well that just isn’t something I want to think about -Wants to let them percolate in his head and wrap around his heart the way he surely knows they will, leaving him to ponder all the possibilities she’s just unwittingly opened the door to (ONE OF THE BEST LINES EVER!!!) -He wonders if there will ever be a time when he’s not utterly captivated by her sheer presence alone -Standing so close, Gendry can see exactly how many variations of gray make up the unique shade of her eyes -Because it is love (And here is the callback from chapter 7!) -I’m never not thinking about kissing you, Arya -She turns to look at him and her eyes appear almost silver against the light of the moon, leaving him a little dizzy and a lot smitten -We were friends first
I ABSOLUTELY CANNOT WAIT for the next chapter to come out!! These are beautiful, you are beautiful Yana, everything is beautiful!!! 
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la-quimera · 4 years
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Climb until you’re getting high
Be a part of the scene like you’re living your dream
Walk the room like you’re on fire
Like you’re chasing the truth, gripping tight to your youth
But you’re the holiest thing I know
I’ve just realized that I never explained the title of my fanfic Holiest Thing I Know. So here it is!
I love Glass Animals! It’s an amazing band who makes so many wonderful songs and collaborations. I came across them while listening to Spotify, and the app recommended me one of their songs. I kept on listening until it recommended me another song, this beautiful piece called Holiest, featuring Tei Shi.
I cannot say why it touched me so much. I think it’s the mistery of the lyrics - I never quite understood them, and still don’t. And that’s the beauty of it.
Now, funny story. When I first had an idea of writing a Sansan fanfic, I didn’t have a plot or narrative in my mind. Usually, when I’m writing something, I start from a scene that I picture in my head and start to thread into a storyline - and usually that scene happens in the middle of the story.
I had a scene ready. But I also had the title. Holiest Thing I Know. Of course, because of this song I’ve been listening until I’m tired of it. And that title ended up becoming another scene - not the same as the first one, which gave birth to the fic itself. It’s a different one that I won’t include in the story.
Well, maybe.
We know Sandor doesn’t believe in Gods - the olds nor the new. He even named his horse Stranger to mock the faith.
And yet, he believes in Sansa.
On the other hand, Sansa believes in the gods. The old for sure, though her faith in the new cannot be confirmed at this point after all she’s been through.
And yet, she believes in Sandor above all that.
So, in my head, this scene plays out (kind of) this way:
They are lying in bed, naked under the furs, embraced and looking at each other’s eyes. They’re not sleepy, for sleep cannot make its way to them. The expectations, the anxiety, the fever of war it’s too close. Danger and dread crawls their way before the battle against Cersei’s army arrives.
“I wonder if the gods fight each other”, she whispers at his side. “Like kings and queens, and lords and ladies, and mercenaries and soldiers.”
“Does the Warrior fights the Mother?”, he rasps, his confusion clear in his voice, though willing to enter her thoughts.
“Maybe. Or maybe Stranger fights the old gods, or they fight Rhollor and the Many Faced God or the Drowned God.”
He chuckles, though without humor.
“Too many gods, just as there are too many kings and queens.”
“Would you cheer for Stranger?”, she asks with a knowing smile on her lips.
He makes it go away when he kissed her, long and hard and passionately until both of them are out of breath. He’s hard again. She’s wet again.
“I cheer for you, Red Wolf”, he groans against her neck before biting it lightly. And then, he raises his head again to kiss her again. “I don’t need the gods.”
She gasps a little - though she doesn’t know it it’s because of his touch or because of his words.
“Don’t be blasphemous”, she whispers.
He’s touching her skin again, driving her blood up and hot, making her lose her mind. Soon enough she’s on her back and he’s on top of her, looking down at her with so much want and love that her legs tremble - even though they’re lying down.
“You’re the holiest thing I know, Sansa.”
I have to say that, sometimes, is Sansa who says this to Sandor. In another variations, he or she say “I need you” instead of that.
The end.
(Chapter 51 is coming soon, I promise!)
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thebluelemontree · 5 years
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This is the last thing I am going to say about Cleganebowl just to get everything out of my system so I can hopefully start to get that imagery out of my head.
The last time I remember being that shaken and disturbed by a scene in GoT was the Sansa rape and hearing the appalling justifications for it.  It wasn’t just tragic.  Tragedy can be an appropriate and satisfying ending.  This was a gross spectacle of a beloved character getting destroyed one last time by his abuser while we’re forced to watch him desperately flailing against it.  Worse... it was basically written as Sandor’s suicide.  It’s repeated over and over that this is about Sandor finally getting revenge.  What we aren’t reminded of is that Sandor is a survivor of extreme child abuse and attempted murder.  His PTSD seems to be nothing more than a character quirk or a plot device, rather than a serious psychological illness. 
 After all his character growth and development of positive emotional attachments, his story ended with still feeling like he had nothing else to live for?  What does this say about deeply traumatized people and abuse survivors?  You’re too fucked up to find any happiness or normalcy in life so you might as well off yourself either directly or indirectly with self-destructive behavior?  And it was framed as a gladiatorial event for the GA to cheer for, but what we got was a one-sided beatdown of perverse cruelty.  That is beyond the pale of offensive.  Yes, it amounted to suicide.  Maybe not intentionally, because D&D were definitely all out of fucks to give and wanted to get to the Cleganebowl FUCK YEAH!  Or if they were aware, that clearly didn’t matter.  Sandor left and did not plan on ever coming back.  His final scene with Arya confirmed, despite his self-awareness of the futility and misery this pursuit had brought him, he chose death.  They made Sandor speak of revenge making him happy even if it kills him.  What they telegraphed is that Sandor has a death wish and suicide (by proxy in this case) was the only way to end his pain. <== this is what guts me and enrages me even more than seeing the brutal violence.  This vile message presented as entertainment and something we should congratulate the writers for by giving him such a “poetic” end.  
Make no mistake.  What was shown was an abuse victim was too fucked up to ever be normal or happy, and death was better FOR YOUR ENTERTAINMENT.  The idea that Sandor had no other choice or no other possible completion of his character arc (including variations of him facing his brother and dying) is a lie from the pit of hell.  It was set up and choreographed that way because showcasing Gregor’s inhuman strength and sadism was given priority over how it portrays an abuse victim.  I swear to God as if I didn’t have enough reasons already, but I will never forgive those bastards for deciding his growth and emotional attachments are not nearly dramatically satisfying enough that they made him choose a needless final act of self-destruction.                      
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qveenofthorns · 6 years
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Brave, gentle, strong: there is only one (no really—I checked)
“When you’re old enough, I will make you a match with a high lord who’s worthy of you, someone brave and gentle and strong.” – Eddard Stark, Sansa III, AGOT
I’ve seen a lot of metas about textual evidence for Sandor being the BGS That Was Promised™, and I started wondering if there are any other candidates. What if we’re all so ~blinded~ by our ship that we missed something else right in front of us? I used A Search of Ice and Fire to check every single Sansa/Alayne chapter for these words (and variations of them) to see if she thinks of anyone else using all of these terms.  
Here are all of the of the uses sorted by character/chronologically (excluding the times she tells Sweetrobin that he’s brave and strong or she tells herself to be brave like Robb):
Joffrey
1. “It was a great honor to ride with the queen, and besides, Prince Joffrey might be there. Her betrothed. Just thinking it made her feel a strange fluttering inside, even though they were not to marry for years and years. Sansa did not really know Joffrey yet, but she was already in love with him. He was all she ever dreamt her prince should be, tall and handsome and strong, with hair like gold.” Sansa I, AGOT
Okay, so I think we can discount this one given the context of Ned’s “brave and gentle and strong” quote, but I really wanted to cover all the bases. It’s also a pretty superficial assessment, moulding him to fit the part in which she’s cast him based on the songs.
Barristan Selmy
1. “One knight wore an intricate suit of white enameled scales, brilliant as a field of new-fallen snow, with silver chasings and clasps that glittered in the sun. When he removed his helm, Sansa saw that he was an old man with hair as pale as his armor, yet he seemed strong and graceful for all that. From his shoulders hung the pure white cloak of the Kingsguard.” Sansa I, AGOT
This one is also an extremely obvious no, though it is still interesting. Despite being old, he seems like a knight from the songs and we see the Kingsguard cloak for the first time in a Sansa POV.  
Sandor
1. “She stepped backward and bumped into someone. Strong hands grasped her by the shoulders, and for a moment Sansa thought it was her father, but when she turned, it was the burned face of Sandor Clegane looking down at her, his mouth twisted in a terrible mockery of a smile.” Sansa I, AGOT
This is after she first sees Ser Ilyn Payne, whom she finds terrifying. Her initial response to Sandor’s touch is positive and this won’t be the last time she backs into him when she’s afraid.
2. “Sandor Clegane scooped her up around the waist and lifted her off the featherbed as she struggled feebly. Her blanket fell to the floor. Underneath she only had a thin bed gown to cover her nakedness. ‘Do as you’re bid, child,’ Clegane said. ‘Dress.’ He pushed her toward her wardrobe, almost gently.” Sansa VI, AGOT
This is the first BGS occurrence since her conversation with Ned. She’s depressed and suicidal and hasn’t bathed in who-knows-how-long after his death. Joffrey has demanded she get dressed and bathe or else “his Hound” will do it for her. She still asks that Joff leave her alone and doesn’t move, at which point he orders Sandor to get her out of bed.
3. “‘Here, girl.’ Sandor Clegane knelt before her, between her and Joffrey. With a delicacy surprising in such a big man, he dabbed at the blood welling from her broken lip.” Sansa VI, AGOT
Not only is he being gentle with her here, he also just prevented her from committing a murder/suicide.
4. “‘True knights,’ he mocked. ‘And I’m no lord, no more than I’m a knight. Do I need to beat that into you?’ Clegane reeled and almost fell. ‘Gods,’ he swore, ‘too much wine. Do you like wine, little bird? True wine? A flagon of sour red, dark as blood, all a man needs. Or a woman.’ He laughed, shook his head. ‘Drunk as a dog, damn me. You come now. Back to your cage, little bird. I’ll take you there. Keep you safe for the king.’ The Hound gave her a push, oddly gentle, and followed her down the steps. By the time they reached the bottom, he had lapsed into a brooding silence, as if he had forgotten she was there.” Sansa II, ACOK
The serpentine encounter is the perfect example of the walking, talking dichotomy that is Sandor Clegane. “Iron fingers” catch her wrist and prevent her from falling down the steps and he makes a joke about how she’s trying to kill them both (something to consider for the future, Sandor: you’re the one lurching out of hidden doorways in the middle of the night, so maybe that’s part of the problem). She says he’s hurting her but he doesn’t let go of her wrist. Then he makes some inappropriate comments about her body and asks her to sing him a song about knights and fair maidens (because he’s a closet sappy romantic like that) because she likes knights. She says she likes true knights and then we come in at the quote. So we go from scary drunk who’s holding her wrist too tight and coming on to her sexually (the only time he ever does) to immediately realizing he’s way out of line, going back to gentle touches and promises to keep her safe. He also lies to protect her from Boros Blount on the very next page. I think it’s fairly safe to say his brooding is primarily about two things: kicking himself over how he just acted, and the “keep you safe for the king” part (he knows Joff well enough to realize that the king is the biggest threat to her safety). In a Daenerys ACOK chapter, she says of Jorah, “Sometimes he thinks of me as a child he must protect, and sometimes as a woman he would like to bed….” I reread that chapter the other day and couldn’t help but think of SanSan and this scene in particular.  
5. “The Hound pulled her to her feet, not ungently.” Sansa III, ACOK
This is at the beginning of the scene where she’s beaten and stripped by Boros Blount. While he’s gentle with her in that moment and does tell Joffrey to stop later, his inaction on this occasion is the biggest regret of his life and he cries about it on his “deathbed.”
6. “A stab went through her, so sharp that Sansa sobbed and clutched at her belly. She might have fallen, but a shadow moved suddenly, and strong fingers grabbed her arm and steadied her.” Sansa IV, ACOK
Okay, so I’m kind of convinced that Sandor spends all of his free time stalking her (because he doesn’t know how to handle the fact that he has positive feelings for another human being?). He’s always lurking in shadows, only to pop out to save her from falling. How often does he hide in the shadows near her that we just never see?
7. “She made herself look at that face now, really look. It was only courteous, and a lady must never forget her courtesies. The scars were not the worst part, nor even the way his mouth twitches. It’s his eyes. She had never seen eyes so full of anger. ‘I… I should have come to you after,’ she said haltingly. ‘To thank you, for… for saving me… you were so brave.’” Sansa IV, ACOK
Ugh, I just have so many feels about this interaction. Between these two quotes, Sandor bb gets sad because she’s scared of him and “still can’t bear to look,” so he lashes out. “He is a dog, just as he says. A half-wild, mean-tempered dog that bites any hand that tries to pet him, and yet will savage any man who tries to hurt his master.” Yes, because he is an ABUSED dog and no one has every tried to pet him before so he’s getting very confused. I’m getting side-tracked by the feels so I’ll stop myself here.
8. “Of late Ser Osmund had taken Sandor Clegane’s place by Joffrey’s side, and Sansa had heard the women at the washing well saying that he was as strong as the Hound, only younger and faster. If that was so, she wondered why she had never once heard of these Kettleblacks before Ser Osmund was named to the Kingsguard.” Sansa VI, ACOK
I considered also including this under the Kettleblacks, but decided against it because she’s not the one saying they’re strong. Her attitude here feels similar to her attitude during the first unkiss mention (“these other girls/women are so silly—I have the Hound and what they have is inferior”).
9. “He yanked her closer, and for a moment she thought he meant to kiss her. He was too strong to fight. She closed her eyes, wanting it to be over, but nothing happened.” Sansa VII, ACOK
This one typically gets left out because it doesn’t exactly portray him in a positive light, but I’m trying to include everything, good and bad. I have some thoughts on this re: the unkiss, but this isn’t the place for that. Short version: it would have been very easy for GRRM to write something like “she wished he wouldn’t,” but instead he wrote “wanting it to be over.” I’m not saying she wanted him to kiss her in that moment, but she didn’t not want him to kiss her either (or it could be a “just get it over with” scenario).
Tyrion
1. “Sansa watched him walk off, his body swaying heavily from side to side, like something from a grotesquerie. He speaks more gently than Joffrey, she thought, but the queen spoke to me gently too. He’s still a Lannister, her brother and Joff’s uncle, and no friend. Once she had loved Prince Joffrey with all her heart, and admired and trusted his mother, the queen. They had repaid that love and trust with her father’s head. Sansa would never make that mistake again.” Sansa I, ACOK
“More gently than Joffrey” is a pretty low bar. Overall, not a very glowing review of Tyrion: he’s not a monster, but he’s grotesque, can’t be trusted, and could turn into a monster later.
Osmund Kettleblack
1. “Sansa tried to run, but Cersei’s handmaiden caught her before she’d gone a yard. Ser Meryn Trant gave her a look that made her cringe, but Kettleblack touched her almost gently and said, “Do as you’re told, sweetling, it won’t be so bad. Wolves are supposed to be brave, aren’t they?” Sansa III, ASOS  
If you didn’t have déjà vu while reading this, something is wrong because this is almost EXACTLY the same as a Sandor moment included on this list. (“‘Do as you’re bid, child,’ Clegane said. ‘Dress.’ He pushed her toward her wardrobe, almost gently.”) HOWEVER, I don’t think Sandor would have been so chill in this particular situation. This is as she’s being dragged off to marry Tyrion and seeing as finding out Sansa had married Tyrion made Sandor suicidal, well, that’s a thought for another day. Between this and Sandor #8, I feel like there’s potential for a SanSan meta solely comparing Sandor and the Kettleblacks. (Someone else please write that—I’m only even doing this because I have mild writer’s block on a fic and needed a break.)
Ser Dontos
1. “‘Not far.’ Ser Dontos took her hand in his own and rubbed it gently. “Your friend is near, waiting for you.’” Sansa V, ASOS
This is while she and Dontos are escaping after Joffrey’s murder. It’s mentioned that they take the serpentine steps at one point. See Sandor #4 for another important interaction there.
Petyr Baelish
1. “He saved Alayne, his daughter, a voice within her whispered. But she was Sansa too… and sometimes it seemed to her that the Lord Protector was two people as well. He was Petyr, her protector, warm and funny and gentle… but he was also Littlefinger, the lord she’d known at King’s Landing, smiling slyly and stroking his beard as he whispered in Queen Cersei’s ear. And Littlefinger was no friend of hers. When Joff had her beaten, the Imp defended her, not Littlefinger. When the mob sought to rape her, the Hound carried her to safety, not Littlefinger. When the Lannisters we’d her to Tyrion against her will, Ser Garlan the Gallant gave her comfort, not Littlefinger. Littlefinger never lifted so much as his little finger for her.” Sansa I, AFFC
Wow, so there’s a lot to unpack here but most of it isn’t relevant to this post. However, this is one of the many times she compares Sandor favorably to other men.
2. “‘Forgive her, my lords,’ Petyr Baelish said softly. ‘She still has nightmares of that day. Small wonder if she cannot bear to speak of it.’ He came up behind her and put his hands gently on her shoulders. ‘I know how hard this is for you, Alayne, but our friends must hear the truth.’ Her throat felt so dry and tight it almost hurt to speak.” Sansa I, AFFC
I see two SanSan parallels in this brief passage. Putting his hands on her shoulders from behind reminds me of her first interaction with Sandor and her throat hasn’t been “dry and tight” since the Blackwater. All of the language in the Blackwater scene is highly sexual, but here, those are the only words that stand out and I only noticed them because they’ve been used before.
Lothor Brune
1. “Sober, he was a quiet man, but a strong one. And Petyr says he’s loyal.” Alayne II, AFFC
The only thing I’ll say about Lothor is that Sansa also compares him to Sandor/he triggers memories about Sandor (ex: the incident with Marillion where she thinks it might be the Hound saving her for a moment before she realizes that’s impossible).
Here’s a chart for the visual learners
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Conclusion: Sandor is the only man worthy of Sansa, as per her father’s parameters
While, just like Sansa, “I knew the Hound would win,” I didn’t expect the results to be this conclusive. He hits all three points while no one else scores above a two. SANDOR BB IS THE ONLY ONE WHO MEETS MORE THAN ONE CRITERIA. SHE NEVER DESCRIBES ANOTHER MAN AS BRAVE. NOT ONCE. ONLY HIM. She talks about brave men in general, but he is the only specific man she ever calls brave.* And it’s not internal monologue like all of the other instances I’ve outlined—she’s saying it aloud, thanking him to his face. And it’s also worth noting that several of the occasions she describes another man as gentle or strong are callbacks to interactions with Sandor. Knowing GRRM, there’s no way that’s an accident. So SanSan is endgame or GRRM is the world’s biggest troll. Either way, my heart hurts.
*While bravery only shows up once in this analysis, Sansa does frequently describe women (herself included) as being brave and also reminds herself to be brave a lot (that whole weird thing where GRRM writes female characters like actual people instead of accessories to the men in their lives).
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silkygoldmilkweed · 6 years
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Tinfoil Theory Q&A w @darklygophilia
(1) 05/08/2018darklygophilia - Hey. If your theory about Sandor being the Azor Ahai, Prince that was Promised and Sansa's his Nissa Nissa (which I believe him to be, too) - What do you think Melisandre's reaction will be? Knowing just how wrong she was in thinking it was Stannis and then Jon Snow. 
(a.) If you want to read all my tinfoiling about this, I think it’s now mostly all tagged under “promised prince” (this phrase is used by Jon late in the books, notice the slight variation in meaning and connotation from Mel’s preferred “the prince that was promised”) and “red sansa” (for my theory that Melisandre’s glamour is a Sansa Stark cosplay that she created without knowing who or what she’s really representing).
(b.) Mel is a colossal fuckup who illustrates the way that religions and cults pervert faith and virtue.  
I suspect Mel might never even know or might figure the truth about “Azor Ahai reborn” about a minute before she dies. Sandor would want nothing to do with her in any case. 
My feeling is that Melisandre will keep talking to Jon and Dany or Davos or Varys or Kinvara or Beric, and bugging them and dumping exposition on them, fruitlessly, but based on what she reveals over the course of the season the AUDIENCE will realize she’s meant to look like Sansa and that Sandor is the Warrior of Light. 
Sandor and Sansa’s hero tale is told on the micro level through the eyes of Sansa and Arya (who are almost the only people Sandor ever really talks to in the books, so far), and on the macro level through Melisandre/Stannis and Bran (he delivers a lot of info about the skinchanging and the role of the Starks in ending the Long Night), with some added narration from Sandor’s assorted spiritual advisors and faith guides: Beric Dondarrion, Thoros of Myr, the Elder Brother, Septon Meribald and Septon Ray (showverse).
Sandor and Sansa themselves may never even know that a cult’s prophecies about their love were the basis of a 5,000-year old religion in Essos. There’s a phrase I like: “World peace is none of your business.” 
The only part that matters to Sansa and Sandor is the part where they are two parts of a whole and they’re finally together again.
tl;dr: Never explain it at the end. Always ruins it. 
(2) And my other question. If your other theory about Sandor/Cersei having once fucked &having possibly had a secret kid (I'm starting to believe this one, you're theories, no matter how tin foil they may seem, always seem to make sense in the end) -How do you think Sansa will react if/when she earns that Sandor once screwed Cersei? 
(a) All my tinfoiling about Sandor x Cersei is tagged “black haired beauty” (after the way Cersei described the baby I suspect they shared), if anyone wants to check it out.
(b) Sansa Stark, upon hearing that long ago--probably before she was even born--young Sandor Clegane was enchanted with young Cersei Lannister: “You fell in love with a beauty you mistook for goodness? I can’t relate.” Sansa will be cool with it because she completely understands falling for a Lannister before realizing they are liars and frauds.
I think the Sandor who fucked Cersei was a stupid boy, and the Sansa who was devoted to her “beloved Joffrey” was a stupid girl, and I think Sandor recognizing his younger, more idealistic self in her is partly why he was so sympathetic. I think by the time we meet him he’s realized he’s spent his life serving dead-enders, and he’s sacrificed both his emotions and his conscience and maybe his own future prospects for...nothing.
If this is not just my deranged ramblings and ever comes out on the book or the show, I imagine Arya would be the most irate. She’ll give Sandor a hilarious and bitchy tongue-lashing and never let him live down that he stuck his dick in crazy.
I truly think Sansa will shrug about Sandor x Cersei, because everyone has a past (who’s worse? Cersei or Joffrey-Littlefinger-Ramsay?), and be very sad about the dead baby, on behalf of grieving father Sandor.
~~~
“Even Joffrey was not so foolish as to command Sandor Clegane to slay a son of Eddard Stark, however; the Hound would have gone to Cersei.“
“Don’t you want to ask who’s winning the battle, little bird?”
“Who?” she said, too frightened to defy him.
The Hound laughed. “I only know who’s lost. Me.”
He is drunker than I’ve ever seen him. He was sleeping in my bed. What does he want here? “What have you lost?”
“All.”
~~~
“The Blackwater? Where do you think I’m taking you?” 
“Back to King’s Landing. To Joffrey and the Queen.”
“Fuck Joffrey. Fuck the Queen.”
“You never love anything in the world the way you love your first child.”
~~~
(MORE TINFOIL, Aemon the Dragonknight-Queen Nerys-King Aegon love triangle edition: The same way Jaime took the white to be close to Cersei, I wonder if warg-crazed and/or love-crazed S1/AGOT Sandor Clegane didn’t take the white to keep close to Sansa. KG is one degree of separation from king’s betrothed. He was pretty much already attached to Joff, but maybe the role of KG elevated him and gave him a couple of more advantages he could use in her service?)
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drowning-in-dennor · 4 years
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The Verdict
After a harrowing selection, it’s time to see just who will advance to the finals. [A continuation of this.] [Recommended watching: Black Swan Siegfried variation by Mikio Kato, Prix de Lausanne 2014 (the choreography he uses is the same as Stellan’s)]
  The one minute is over quickly. Panting and breathless, heart aching with how fast it’s beating, Henrik gets to his feet, spots blurring his vision and obscuring the audience, and bows. He can hear the thunderous applause from below the stage. He’s bowed to dozens of audiences since the beginning of his training, but every time, he’s felt the exhaustion and euphoria of dancing and knowing that people enjoyed it. Henrik runs backstage.
  The adrenaline fades and he has to hold on to a wall, blinking until he can see properly again. The commentators are seated in a little booth behind him, and through the fading roar in his ears Henrik can hear one of them say, “and that was a delightful performance by Henrik Dansen.”
  “Yes,” the other commentator agrees, “and next we have Stellan Grieg from Norway, also dancing a variation from Swan Lake.”
  Heartbeat slowing, Henrik straightens up and looks out to the stage. From here, he’ll have a clear view of Stellan’s performance. 
  From the other side of the stage, Stellan walks onstage. The silvery sequins on his jacket sparkle beneath the spotlight, and his glossy white-gold hair gleams softly. Henrik catches sight of his face; he looks perfectly serene. Only his hand, clenched into a fist at his hip, shows how nervous he is.
  Like what happened a little over a minute ago, the music starts. 
  Henrik has both seen and practiced the Black Swan variation hundreds of times, but despite that, Stellan’s interpretation of it is nothing like the versions he’s seen. Somehow, he’s made the variation entirely his, dancing so powerfully, so gracefully that he’s no longer playing the role of Siegfried, but a character of his own. All throughout, his expression remains composed and airy. He smiles as he finishes his tour jêtes and rushes centre stage for his entrechats, arms fluid and perfectly level. After the final jump, Stellan drops to one knee with the final fanfare of the music, arms poised lightly.
  To applause, he stands up, bows, and runs backstage.
  Stellan nears him, and Henrik notices that his cheeks are pink. He steps aside, allowing Stellan to double over, breathing hard. “I did it,” he pants.
  “Yeah.” Henrik shoots out an arm to hold him steady when he nearly topples over. “You did great.”
  “My arabesque was unsteady, my — my arms were too stiff…” Stellan blinks hard, trembling from head to toe. “Goodness, I messed up so bad.”
  “No, no, your performance was fine.” He pats his back, adding, “the audience clapped really loudly, you know. They loved you.”
  He stumbles away from Henrik, arms wrapped around himself. “Really?”
  The applause Stellan got was plenty louder than what Henrik received at the end of his performance, that’s for sure. “Yeah. You might win the audience favourite award.”
  “Maybe.” Stellan tosses his hair, his old self back. “We’ll find out this evening.”
  They head back to the practice area and stay long enough to watch Sandor’s performance, that of a variation from La Bayadere. Then they go to the dressing room, change out of their suffocating costumes and meet up in the lobby of the theatre.
  “We’ve got a few hours until the finalists are announced.” Henrik ruffles his hair, freeing it from the confines of the hairspray that held it in place before. “I have no clue where Berwald’s gone off to, so I can’t ask him to go shopping or whatever.” He looks at Stellan. “Do you want to spend the rest of the afternoon with me?”
  He shrugs. “Sure, I guess. Should we go out for coffee?”
  “Sounds good to me.”
  All eighty of the candidates have gathered in the studio, and the commentators are summarising the day in front of a set of cameras, broadcasting themselves to the rest of the world. Standing on tiptoes to look over the sea of fellow dancers, Henrik peers at the empty floor, where the finalists are going to be standing soon. 
  Then the commentators approach them, holding out a microphone. “Do any of the candidates have anything to say?”
  The first person to volunteer is candidate 206, a round-cheeked boy who waves cheerfully at the audience before speaking. “I loved learning from all these amazing teachers and adding onto what I already know. I’ve made lots of new friends, and it’s just been an amazing experience overall!”
  Next to speak is 103, who takes the microphone with a smile. “Thank you for having me! I had an unforgettable five days, and I learned so much more than I ever imagined.”
  To Henrik’s surprise, Stellan steps forward next. “This was my first-ever competition, and my first performance too,” he says. “This week has been wonderful, and I’m grateful to have the chance to come here.”
  He disappears back into the crowd. Up front, it’s time to announce the twenty finalists. The artistic director of the Prix steps forward and begins. “Erika Zwingli, number 101.”
  “Filipa Łukasiewicz, 110.”
  One by one, the finalists step out, smiling triumphantly as they take their place on the dance floor. “Timo Väinämöinen, number 206.”
  “Fleur Bonnefoy, 304.”
  “Nataliya Plisetskaya, 315.”
  “Henrik Dansen, 406.”
  Shock flooding through him, Henrik shoulders through the crowd and bows to the jury. He stands with the other finalists, numb with surprise. Some of the spectators are clapping.
  “Stellan Grieg, 407.”
  Stellan joins him, eyes wide. Then, the rest of the finalists are called.
  The announcements are over quickly, and the jury leaves. Henrik drops his shoulders. “Can’t believe I did it.”
  “Neither can I.” Stellan shoots him one of his wicked smirks. “You, in the finals? What was the jury thinking?”
  Henrik pouts.“You’re awful.”
  “Indeed I am,” he purrs. “And the real competition starts now. There are only eight prize winners, and there’s no way they’d let two dancers doing the same variation win. That means one of us will have to fall behind.”
  “You’re exactly right,” Henrik says. He looks right at Stellan, at those eyes sparked bright with anticipation. “Now, it’s just a matter of who that will be.”
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