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axelsagewrites · 9 months

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Hi. Can I request Edmure x female Snow (Jon’s sister) where Edmure, reader, Jon etc learn her heritage and after dany’s mad queen thing is reader selected to be queen and Edmure her consort. Maybe smut too, either way more Edmure.

Edmure Tully*My Queen, My Love

Pairing: snow!f!reader x husband!edmure

A/N: I did change your request slightly since I just couldn’t think of how to write danny as the mad queen or how to get the plot going so now its edmures reaction to her heritage and danny naming her as her heir and them celebrating with some soft smut at the end so I hope you still like it!

Word count: 2705

Warnings: talks of death/red wedding, praise, ‘my queen’ honorific, f!receiving oral, fingering, slight teasing, thighs, soft smut 18+

Past

When Jon left for the wall, you thought you’d never see him again. When your sisters got taken as hostages in the red keep you thought they were as good as dead. When Winterfell was taken you thought your youngest brothers were gone for good. Everyone around you began to drop like flies and if not for Edmure you would have thrown yourself from Riverrun’s walls when you got the news of Robbs brutal murder and at a wedding no less.

Your stomach churned at the memory, and you wondered what your own fate would have been if Robb had not sent you and Edmure back to Riverrun to defend it from Lannister attacks. Sometimes you wondered if he knew, if somehow Robb felt the unease in the air of the twins. When you hugged Robb goodbye for the last time you clung on, but you did not know why you did or why your direwolf star was so reluctant to leave Greywind’s side. She, like ghost, was a pale white but unlike his red eyes hers were the palest of purples, so pale you wondered if they were clear in certain lights.

You were only halfway to Riverrun when you heard the news. You tried to back, hell bent of trying to avenge Robb with a sword, a wolf, and only three men but Edmure had to hold you back. He screamed at you in the forest ‘do you want to die? What of your sisters who will they have to save them when your dead at Walder Frey’s feet? Dying won’t bring him back.'

'My father is dead. My brothers are dead. The girls are as good as dead and only the gods know where Jon is, you screamed it back, face wet with tears and your voice tearing the air. I have no one.'

'You have me and you have star and the gods be good your sisters in time, but you won’t have anything if you run without thinking.'

His words swam about your heads for the weeks you spent traveling with Edmure and the two others Robb had sent with you. Your gold ran out quickly and there were no friends for you to find. That was until you came across the man with half his face scorched off. You’d found him in a heap at the bottom of a mountain and were shocked when you noticed his shallow breaths.

You didn’t know why you felt the need to stop your travels for a week to nurse him back to health, but you did and when he was not insulting you or trying to start fights his roughness started to slip. 'Did you see a girl dressed as a boy? Brown hair, face like a pinched arse, a tiny needle of a sword. Goes by Arry.' Arya. Your sister was alive. You had hope again.

Eventually the gods turned your fate. You may have lost the two guards Robb had sent with you in skirmishes, but you were left with Sandor and Edmure and eventually the brotherhood found you. With them came travels and with travels came Jon. Finally you had Jon back. Then Sansa too and with the hope Arya was out there you dared continue.

Meanwhile you had Edmure beside you the entire time. He backed all your decisions publicly and debated you in private but never to berate. He helped you heal the wounds you couldn’t reach and didn’t eat till he made sure you had your share. He was the rock securing your tie to reality.

You remember his reaction to meeting Daenerys Targaryen, first of her name. Its not her dragons we should fear. A woman who brings the Dothraki across the sea on the hope of a promise not given to her holds power. Her words hold power.

While Sansa was sceptical of her you felt yourself drawn to her. As time went on you began to view her as more of a friend than a foreign queen. You found yourself added to her small council. Despite Tyrion being her hand, it was you she turned to in her dilemma.

Then one day Jon barged into one of your chambers, insisting it could not wait a day longer. He forced Edmure to leave the chambers despite you insisting that the man who had become your husband could hear anything he had to say. 'Ned Stark was not our father sweet sister, but he was not a stranger either.' You felt the colour drain from your face as he spoke. 'Bran, he saw it, Lyanna Stark on her birthing bed. Twins in her arms. We had a mother sweet sister and a father too. Rhaegar Targaryen.'

Present

After he broke the news, you demanded he leave, not wanting him to speak another word till you could bare to tell Daenerys yourself. Then Edmure returned. As you told him everything Jon had revealed you felt your world spinning as Edmure sat silently taking it all in.

The feel of Edmures hands grabbing yours slowed your rant, your breathing steadying. “Breathe my love. It is going to be okay,”

“But what if its not?” You asked, a break in your voice.

You looked to the man that had kept you afloat during this war with wide eyes brimmed with tears. His hand gently moved to hold your face, “You are still you, my love. This does not need to change your world unless you choose it too. Your brother will back you; he always has. I am here for you love. We are safe, we will survive this,”

“What if she thinks us a threat?” You said, voice barely above a whisper, “Rober Baratheon would’ve murdered them in their cribs if he had got there in time to swing his hammer. What will she do to me?”

“She has shown you no signs of tyranny, no signs of madness. If you lie to her, scheme against her, she will know but even if ned Stark was not your father you still have his honour,” Edmure said, leaning to kiss your forward softly, “and you have me. I may not breath fire, but I would fight any dragon for you,”

You watched as Daenerys face turned as Jon told her the truth with you by his side. “If it were true, you would be the last living male Targaryen. Are you here to threaten my claim?” She asked, her face twisting into betrayal.

“No,” you said, finally speaking up in the silence, “Jon has no interest in the iron throne, do you brother?” You said, scared when he paused for a moment before agreeing with you.

Daenerys turned away, pacing to the fire in silence, “Leave us,” she said, her head raising to face Jon, “and do not speak a word of this to anyone. Swear it,”

“I swear it your grace,” Jon said, nodding his head solemnly before leaving.

As the door shut Daenerys finally turned to look at you, “I assume Edmure knows,” she said dryly, “Who else?”

“No one your grace,” you said, crossing the room to try come to her side but she backed away, “No one needs know if you don’t want them too. But you cannot deny you need a family,”

“I have my dragons,” she said, almost spitting the words before looking into the flames, “A woman told me once they would be my only children,” she said with a softer tone.

"When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east," you whispered back, having heard her tales of her first marriage many nights.

“When the seas go dry and mountains blow in the wind like leaves,” she said, her eyes not leaving the flickering flames, “I believe I will see my child when I die. The son a witch stole from me. The family I was told to dream about having as a child, gone. What is a queen with no heirs?” She said, finally looking from the flames. “If I was to name Jon my heir people would cross their fingers for the day I died. Your land has never cared much for their queens,”

You paused for a moment, thinking back to the talks you had with Edmure the night before. “There is another way your grace,” you said, moving over to sit in the armchair by the fire, Daenerys moving to the other, “The northerns have never liked to bend their knee to the south but what if you didn’t make them? Allow Jon to be king of the north, recognise Robbs kingship and his will naming Jon as his heir. No southern lord is going to fight for a bastard to sit the iron throne,”

Daenerys sat back in her chair, thinking over your words carefully, “And what of you? You would stay in the north to take the throne after him?”

You shook your head lightly, “No your grace. He may be my brother, but you are my queen. I will follow you south, fight your battles and die for you, if need be, serve however required,”

Daenerys paused, chuckling slightly under her breath, “Even as my heir?” She said, her eyes hard to read.

“Unless you have children,” you said but Daenerys just laughed and stood again.

“No. My dragons are my children. One of them is already dead. My womb has been cursed and the child bed is more dangerous than any battle ahead. Now I will not have children. But I will have an heir. An heir who will act as a delegate to the newly independent north. You,” she said, finally turning back to see you, “You shall be my heir and you shall rule when I am gone. Not your husband, not Jon. You,”

The feast announcing Daenerys decision was one of the last moments of joy for many before the long night. You sat at the head table, Daenerys on one side and Edmure on the other. He held your hand under the table, his thumb stroking over your hand. Jon sat on the other side of Daenerys; a shoddy silver crown placed on his head unlike the one Daenerys wore made of gold.

After the festivities you walked back to your chamber, slightly lightheaded from the wine but with Edmures arm wrapped around yours to steady yourself. “One day you will be a queen,” he hummed, smiling down at you, “The title suits me,”

“Hopefully not for a long time,” you said, kissing his cheek as you stumbled to your chambers, “Excited about your future promotion?” You joked with a drunken grin.

He shook his head with a chuckle, “the title is yours not mine. I will not rule for you love for you will be my queen. Though I hope you will at least allow me on your council when the time comes,” he said as you turned into the corridor your chamber lay in.

“Of course,” you said, hugging his arm tighter, “You have always been my hand. Without you I am nothing,”

“No, my love,” he said as he unlatched the chamber door, “You are everything and more,” he said, kissing your lips softly in the chamber doorway. “Give me a moment to light the fire,”

As Edmure stoked the flames you began to slip out of your northern clothes, leaving them in a pile at the side of the bed and leaving only your shift on for coverage. You sat on the foot of the bed, watching as Edmure finally had the fire burning bright before he took his own outdoor clothing off.

“You look divine my love,” he said as he sat his neatly folded tunic on the armchair by the fire. You held your hand out to him across the room, silently beckoning him over. Edmure did as you asked wordlessly, gently taking your hand and moving to stand between your legs. He bent down, pressing a slow soft kiss to your lips. Your hands rested on his shoulders, his cupping your jaw lightly before he stood up straight again, “It is time for rest my love,” he said, moving back to kick off his boots.

You shook your softly at him, a smile toying your lips, “We are celebrating tonight remember?” You said, standing so you could wrap your arms around his waist to pull him closer. His body, left with only his trousers, pressed flush against yours leaving no gaps between your skin. “Wont you celebrate with me, husband?” You asked, a teasing smile on your lips.

“I suppose some celebrating could be in order,” Edmure said with a light chuckle. He lifted your chin with his fingers, his head dipping to reconnect your lips. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders in an attempt to pull him closer somehow. You were breathless as Edmure walked you back till the backs of your thighs hit the bed frame. “Lay down my queen,” he said, panting as he pulled away from your lips.

“I am not queen yet,” you said, the wine making the idea more funny than terrifying. None the less you moved to lay on the bed, letting your shift bunch up to reveal more of your thighs.

Edmures eyes scanned your thighs, soaking in your frame. You couldn’t help but notice the outline in his trousers by this point but you did not protest as he began to crawl up the bed to you, kissing your calf then knee and up to your thighs, “Let me serve you my queen,” he said as he placed a kiss to your inner thigh, “You have always been my queen,”

Your breathing was ragged as you felt him kiss up your inner thighs, his breath fanning over your skin making it tingle. Your fingers ran over his hair, toying with it softly, “Serve me husband,” you said, aching for his mouth which was less than an inch from where you wanted it to be, “Serve your queen,” you inhaled sharply when you felt him place a soft kiss to your wet cunt, his lips moving up to place another wet kiss to your clit. Your fingers tugged his hair gently as he began to lick soft stripes up your cunt, his pressure increasing with each lick to tease the feeling. While you were usually the one doing the teasing Edmure wanted to make sure this was truly a celebration for you tonight as his tongue worked its wonders while his hands softly squeezed your thighs.

His mouth moved up, his focus turning to gently sucking your clit as curse words slipped from under your breath. His hand slipped from your thigh, slowly grazing over your skin till his fingers began to tease your hole. You moaned lightly when you felt his fingers slowly slipping in as he had practised many times with you over the years. You could feel your thighs tighten around his head and how he moaned sending vibrations through your wet cunt.

You could feel your body tightening, a knot forming in your stomach as Edmure began to hit your sweet spot, his fingers curling gently to hit closer with each move. “Yes,” you gasped, your fingers suddenly tightening in his hair, “Like that,” you said, your voice caught as your body tightened.

Edmure did exactly as he was told as he felt your thighs begin to twitch. Your body felt close to bursting till your orgasm spilled over you, your legs clamping around his head as your body tensed up, toes curling. Edmure did not attempt to remove his tongue or mouth as he let you ride out your wave, only moving when he felt your legs begin to release his head.

He came up for air, his face slick and an adoring smile on his face, “You truly are amazing,” he murmured, kissing your thigh before moving up to lay beside you.

You turned, trying to reach for his trousers to return the favour but Edmure caught your wrist, raising your hand up to his lips to kiss, “Not yet love. Catch your breath my queen,”

You laughed lightly at his words, “Are you always going to call me that?” You asked.

“Yes, for it will always be true,”

Taglist @clairacassidy @nyotamalfoy @valeskafics

#edmure tully x you #edmure tully x reader #edmure tully imagine #edmure tully #edmure tully fanfic #game of thrones smut #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #asoiaf #asoiaf x reader #asoiaf imagine #asoiaf smut #edmure tully smut

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poppyseedrollcookietxt · 1 year

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i saw walder of house white making milk of the poppy with that urchin jessaerys

Am I having a stroke this ask reads like a fever dream

#poppyseed.text #candybots email box

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hacked-wtsdz · 1 year

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A little obsessed with themes of haunting and ghosts in asoiaf. Characters are surrounded by ghosts, they are ghosts, they love ghosts, they are part of ghosts, they live in places that are ghosts, they unleash ghosts and they bargain with ghosts, most importantly they are haunted by ghosts. Ghosts and curses and prophecies are all very closely tied together in the narrative. Arya who is a ghost in Harrenhal, already a place full of them, Harren and his sons, countless lords and servants, burnt by wildfire, burnt again and again, because the place is said to be cursed. The Red Keep with bodies of its builders buried somewhere within, the Red Keep full of black cells with some half-men, half-ghosts still waiting for justice and sunlight. With skulls of dragons beneath its floors, a defeated legacy. Winterfell with its crypts, full of dead starks, and they are more than just crypts: they are a shelter, a haunted house, a sept in a way. The whole of the riverlands one single haunted space, as if executed with one giant hand of Tywin Lannister. He unleashes a curse with deeds so vile they start haunting lands and fates and houses, Westeros itself. That story Bran tells, about the rat cook who killed guests in his own house, and was cursed to devour his own sons; Walder Frey murdering his guests at the Red Wedding. Drogo is taken from Dany through a bargain with the dead. The dead haunt her: Rhaegar on the Trident, dragons and hundreds of her Targaryen ancestors. House Targaryen is a ghost. Westeros itself is haunting Dany, something she cannot remember. The entire white walkers story is literally the dead getting up from the graves, from the ground and walking, killing. Not alive, not dead, not exactly ghosts. What harm can Lyanna Stark’s ghost do us? Catelyn Stark back from the dead, mute. “She don’t talk but she remembers”. Idk it all seems very consecutive, as if the ghosts are active parts of the story, even from the grave navigating the characters, affecting reality. “It all goes back and back to our fathers and mothers and theirs before them”. Jenny dancing with her ghosts.

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gendrie · 9 months

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"Also, if your sister Arya is returned to us safely, it is agreed that she will marry Lord Walder's youngest son, Elmar, when the two of them come of age." Robb looked nonplussed. "Arya won't like that one bit." (Catelyn, AGOT)

Bran had not wanted the Freys at the high table, but the maester reminded him that they would soon be kin. Robb was to marry one of their aunts, and Arya one of their uncles. "She never will," Bran said, "not Arya," but Maester Luwin was unyielding, so there they were beside Rickon. (Bran, ACOK)

His aunt looked at him strangely. "I was seven when Walder Frey persuaded my lord father to give my hand to Emm. His second son, not even his heir. Father was himself a thirdborn son, and younger children crave the approval of their elders. Frey sensed that weakness in him, and Father agreed for no better reason than to please him. My betrothal was announced at a feast with half the west in attendance. Ellyn Tarbeck laughed and the Red Lion went angry from the hall. The rest sat on their tongues. Only Tywin dared speak against the match. A boy of ten. Father turned as white as mare's milk, and Walder Frey was quivering." She smiled. (Jaime, AFFC)

#asoiaf nonsense #when people make excuses for this wack match........lol

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jaydeewis · 2 years

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"The Lord of White Harbor had furnished the food and drink, black stout and yellow beer and wines red and gold and purple, brought up from the warm south on fat-bottomed ships and aged in his deep cellars. The wedding guests gorged on cod cakes and winter squash, hills of neeps and great round wheels of cheese, on smoking slabs of mutton and beef ribs charred almost black, and lastly on three great wedding pies, as wide across as wagon wheels, their flaky crusts stuffed to bursting with carrots, onions, turnips, parsnips, mushrooms, and chunks of seasoned pork swimming in a savory brown gravy. Ramsay hacked off slices with his falchion and Wyman Manderly himself served, presenting the first steaming portions to Roose Bolton and his fat Frey wife, the next to Ser Hosteen and Ser Aenys, the sons of Walder Frey. “The best pie you have ever tasted, my lords,” the fat lord declared. “Wash it down with Arbor gold and savor every bite. I know I shall.”

#a dance with dragons #house stark #house bolton #house frey #house manderly

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aegor-bamfsteel · 11 days

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Hello Bamfsteel. I have been following your blog for over a year now but I realize I haven't commented or reblogged much (I kinda avoid online interaction because I'm terrified of accidentally offending someone). But I cannot express how much I love your blog, and admire you for carrying on despite the hate you get from antis. I was already ambivalent about Daemon, but you got me rooting for him... and for Daena, Rohanne, and Aegor, the last of whom in particular is basically unanimously hated by the fandom (hell, one random tvtropes page even called him worse than Aerys the Mad King)!! So I'm grateful for your blog and hope you keep posting.

Anyway, as a fan of both the Blackfyres and Arthuriana, I'm currently planning to write an Arthurian retelling of Daemon I's life and was wondering about how he chose his sigil/heraldry. Twoiaf says that he simply reversed the Targaryen colors because that's what all bastards do. But I don't know if there are any other examples of this happening in canon.

On the contrary, I recall Jon saying to Arya in AGoT: "Girls get the arms but not the swords. Bastards get the swords but not the arms. I did not make the rules, little sister."

So now I wonder if the 'black dragon on a red field' was actually Daena's personal coat of arms, and Daemon simply chose it after Aegon's acknowledgement as a symbol of defiance and loyalty to his beloved mother. I love the notion that the chivalrous-to-the-last-breath Daemon Blackfyre didn't care all that much for his terrible and blatantly unchivalrous 'father' and instead everything he did, from winning the squires tourney to rebelling against Daeron, was his way of making his mother proud and atoning for all the humiliation she had to suffer due to his birth.

Sorry for the long ask. I am just excited to meet a fellow Blackfyre fan :)

Hello, thesupercat. Thank you for the long ask, and putting up with my slow responses over the past year. I have a little more free time/motivation to write recently, so I’m trying to answer more questions. I’m glad that my posts could bring your fandom experience some happiness. If you ever write the Arthuriana about Daemon I, don’t be afraid to send me a link.

TWOIAF and Dunk actually have different origins of the Black Dragon sigil; Dunk claims “the arms of House Targaryen had borne a three-headed dragon, red on black. Daemon the Pretender had reversed those colors on his own banners, as many bastards did.” (The Sworn Sword) but TWOIAF actually says “Reversing the colors of the traditional Targaryen arms to show a black dragon on a red field, the rebels declared for Princess Daena's bastard son Daemon Blackfyre, First of His Name, proclaiming him the eldest true son of King Aegon IV, and his half brother Darren the bastard.” (TWOIAF Darren II) What a lot of antis miss in their analysis of Daemon and Aegor is conflating their actions with that of what the Reds said their supporters did (if Daemon didn’t create the sigil, it could be evidence that the rebellion wasn’t premeditated, which I believe) I actually had an interesting debate about which version of the origin of the sigil was more logical with someone (I’d taken Dunk’s word to be true), but it’s actually more interesting if the rebels came up with it, because you’re right (no matter what the wiki has to say about it) the reversed sigil color scheme alone doesn’t actually indicate illegitimate origin: it requires that and a diagonal (usually red) slash, called in heraldry a “bend sinister” (which was used in real life illegitimate sigils, like the cadet branches of the House of Bourbon, Conti and Condé). There are multiple examples of illegitimate sons/their descendants using the reversed colors of their father’s house and the bend sinister: Walder Rivers and Walder of Woodmere (a silver castle on a blue field and a red bend sinister, for Frey), and the cadet branch houses Oldflowers (ten white hands on a green field and a red bend sinister, for Gardner), Vikary (quartered with a white lion on red crossed by a gold bend sinister, for Reyne), and Bolling (quartered with a gold stag on a black field and an orange bend sinister, for Durrandon). The other illegitimate children whose sigils are described are variations on a family sigil without the inverse colors (Aegor Rivers, Brynden Rivers) or something completely different (Benedict Justman, Blackshield). Far from being a simple sigil that marks being illegitimate Targaryen, the black-dragon-on-red-field is a symbol of anti-Targaryen defiance that rejects the “bend sinister” marker for a different lineage of dragon (a cat of a different coat, I guess), which makes a lot of sense if you consider the war was due to disgust at the current Targ regime. Daemon technically had the right to use the Targaryen sigil proper since he was legitimized (look at the Velaryon boys), but I’m certain Da3ron would’ve forbid him because that would be “putting him on princely level” never mind that he is a prince as Daena’s son and Yandel knows this; he might’ve actually used a different style of arms before the First Blackfyre that we don’t know of (same with Aegor, who got the black wings on his Pegasus sigil due to House Blackfyre; I headcanon him using a plain blue field during his youth, for the Riverlands), or even the sigil we know of with the bend sinister (which the rebels removed acclaiming Daemon their legitimate king waging war against an illegitimate usurper; also as a Targaryen bastard, Da3ron could’ve had the same sigil as Daemon which the rebels wouldn’t have wanted). But, you seem to be correct that whoever created the sigil put more thought into it than “reversed color scheme is what all illegitimate children do”.

There are two women described as having personal arms: Rhaenyra Targaryen and Barbrey Dustin, ruling ladies with important family connections. The Targaryen sigil is also often personalized to distinguish between brothers and cousins (Aerion, Prince Daeron, Valarr, Maekar all have variations on dragon position, color, borders, number), though usually not for the king or his heir except in civil war conflicts (both Rhaenyra and her brother Aegon II have variations on the Targaryen sigil. Which I guess makes sense why Daemon’s supporters wanted a separate Blackfyre sigil). Daena was also acclaimed queen by some, and according to a GRRM answer wanted to be queen, so it’s possible she had a variation on the Targaryen sigil as personal arms. It’s interesting that the most popular variation on using house sigils is when the person wants to honor their mother’s family: Harras Harlaw (Serrett peacock), Joffrey/Tommen/Myrcella (Lannister lion, which Jon thinks is overly proud), Cleos Frey (Lannister lion), Benfrey Frey (Rosby chevronnels), both Big and Little Walder (who quarter the Frey castles with sigils of their mother’s and grandmother’s families), and Harry Hardyng (quartering the diamonds of Hardyng with 2 Falcons for his Arryn grandmother and 1 broken wheel for his Waynwood mother) all incorporate their mother’s/grandmother’s family sigils to show their high lineage. Even Rhaenyra Targaryen quartered her two red dragons with the Arryn falcon for her mother and the silver seahorse for her first husband. It’s entirely possible Daena, famous for wearing black during her youth and twice uncrowned, incorporated a black dragon into her personal arms (though I like to think she also incorporated the Velaryon seahorse for her mother’s family, to better differentiate herself from the “usurper branch” of Viserys II), and Daemon accepted the nickname “the Black Dragon” partly to honor her (the connection between them wearing black was one of my earliest hc posts). That Daemon’s descent from Daena is emphasized in the same sentence as his supporters creating the black-dragon-on-red-field banner could be seen as connecting the reversal of “traditional Targ arms” to her, as being “Targaryen on both sides” was used at least in Rhaenyra’s case as a mark of better legitimacy. Tl;dr if you want to say that Daemon’s battle sigil is a black dragon to honor Daena, there’s enough symbolic connections considering other examples of personal/illegitimate arms to make that argument, especially for a fanfic.

I hope you have a good rest of your day. My askbox is always open if you have more questions, though response time may be slow.

#ask #asoiaf #house blackfyre #daemon blackfyre #daena targaryen #sigils #asoiaf headcanon #long post

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turtle-paced · 7 months

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Hi. Different anon here, but regarding Walter White, is he really worse than say, Littlefinger or Walder Frey? Please, don't get me wrong. He does horrible things, manipulates, kills and destroys the lives of everyone he loves due to pride and ambition. But he at least trully loves his family and Jesse, even if he did all those terrible things to them. He offers all his money to Jack trying to save Hank. He takes all the blame so that Skyler won't be arrested. He saves Jesse in the end, even if the could have killed him together with Jack and the others (Walt is responsible for the situation Jesse was in, I know, but if he did not care he would not have shielded him from the bullets). His final talk with Flyn shows that he loves him too. I don't think any of this excuses, justifies or negates all the terible things he did to them or to others, but I can't see some characters of ASOIAF, like Littlefinger or Walder Frey, or Ramsay or Gegror, expressing love for others. That's why I don't think he is as bad as them.

Reasonable people can disagree on this.

For me, I think Walter White is a special shade of evil because he loves others. Time after time, he manipulates and betrays the people he cares about despite the fact he loves them.

The quality of evil there - Walter's known love, valued people, and coldly concluded, "no, these human beings I care about are not worth as much as my pride."

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istumpysk · 7 months

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OPERATION ICEBERG: THE TIER LIST

THEORY:

HS = HR

[The High Sparrow is Howland Reed]

TIER:

A Joke: These theories are an absolute joke; anyone who believes them is a fool.

[Tier list overview]

EVIDENCE:

Our first stupid Howland Reed theory! Only 17 more to go.

Who is Howland Reed?

Howland Reed is a crannogman and the Lord of Greywater Watch.

He is the father of Meera and Jojen Reed.

He was a close friend and ally of Ned Stark and knows exactly what went down at the Tower of Joy.

He has been mysteriously absent from the series so far, to the point where it's ridiculous.

Who is the High Sparrow?

His name is unknown.

He leads the Sparrows, a faction of the Faith of the Seven.

He became the High Septon of the Faith of the Seven, bypassing any democratic process.

He leads a strict and devout life, showing extreme religious piety.

Similar to Aeron Dam-phair and Melisandre, he's somewhat of a merciless piece of shit who commits abhorrent acts in the name of religion.

Why would Howland Reed be disguising himself as the High Septon?

Are you ready?

Here:

Good news, we're all dumber now.

Anyway, let's dive right in.

The High Sparrow is short, thin, with a trimmed grey-brown beard and knotted hair. He has a sharp, pointed face with deep-set brown eyes, and his bare feet are heavily callused.

The Reeds are short and thin with brown hair. When we're introduced to Meera, her hair is tied in a knot.

"He is cleaning the floor." The speaker was shorter than the queen by several inches and as thin as a broom handle. "Work is a form of prayer, most pleasing to the Smith." He stood, scrub brush in hand. "Your Grace. We have been expecting you." The man's beard was grey and brown and closely trimmed, his hair tied up in a hard knot behind his head. Though his robes were clean, they were frayed and patched as well. He had rolled his sleeves up to his elbows as he scrubbed, but below the knees the cloth was soaked and sodden. His face was sharply pointed, with deep-set eyes as brown as mud. His feet are bare, she saw with dismay. They were hideous as well, hard and horny things, thick with callus. "You are His High Holiness?" - Cersei VI, AFFC

The septon had a lean sharp face and a short beard, grizzled grey and brown. His thin hair was pulled back and knotted behind his head, and his feet were bare and black, gnarled and hard as tree roots. - Brienne I, AFFC

The little crannogman was walking across the field, enjoying the warm spring day and harming none, when he was set upon by three squires. - Bran II, ASOS

All his garb was green, even to the leather of his boots, and when he came closer Bran saw that his eyes were the color of moss, though his teeth looked as white as anyone else's. Both Reeds were slight of build, slender as swords and scarcely taller than Bran himself. They went to one knee before the dais. - Bran III, ACOK

Though near Robb's age, she was slim as a boy, with long brown hair knotted behind her head and only the barest suggestion of breasts. - Bran III, ACOK

Why this confirms the High Sparrow is Howland Reed: Short, thin, with brown hair matches the Reeds. Eyes as brown as mud and feet resembling tree roots evoke the crannogmen.

Why this doesn't confirm the High Sparrow is Howland Reed: How many billions of people in this world are short, thin, and have brown hair? Also, it's a given that Howland Reed is going to have green eyes.

The High Sparrow looks unkempt, with soiled feet and dirty fingernails.

Crannogmen are frequently described as mudmen.

"My lord husband tells me this new one was born with filth beneath his fingernails." - Cersei VI, AFFC

"Mudmen," answered Little Walder disdainfully. "They're thieves and cravens, and they have green teeth from eating frogs." - Bran III, ACOK

Why this confirms the High Sparrow is Howland Reed: Muddy, filthy, dirty — these words are closely related.

Why this doesn't confirm the High Sparrow is Howland Reed: You know who else is dirty? Septon Meribald.

Brienne encountered the High Sparrow on Rosby road between King's Landing and Duskendale. At the time, he was traveling south, suggesting he was coming from the north.

"Join us, friends," urged a spare small man in a threadbare septon's robe, who wore a crystal on a thong about his neck. "Westeros has need of every sword." "We were bound for Duskendale," declared Ser Creighton, "but mayhaps we could see you safely to King's Landing." [...] "These are the bones of holy men, murdered for their faith. They served the Seven even unto death. Some starved, some were tortured. Septs have been despoiled, maidens and mothers raped by godless men and demon worshipers. Even silent sisters have been molested. Our Mother Above cries out in her anguish. It is time for all anointed knights to forsake their worldly masters and defend our Holy Faith. Come with us to the city, if you love the Seven." - Brienne I, AFFC

Why this confirms the High Sparrow is Howland Reed: I can confirm he was definitely travelling south on Rosby road.

Why this doesn't confirm the High Sparrow is Howland Reed: That's not how you get to King's Landing from Greywater Watch.

(map!)

The High Sparrow is avoiding giving Tommen his blessing as King of the Seven Kingdoms.

"The High Septon should have come to you. And these wretched sparrows . . ." "He feeds them, coddles them, blesses them. Yet will not bless the king." The blessing was an empty ritual, she knew, but rituals and ceremonies had power in the eyes of the ignorant. Aegon the Conqueror himself had dated the start of his realm from the day the High Septon anointed him in Oldtown. "This wretched priest will obey, or learn how weak and human he still is." - Cersei VI, AFFC

Cersei had no idea what Jaehaerys the Conciliator might have sworn. "He did," she agreed, "and the High Septon blessed him and anointed him as king. It is traditional for every new High Septon to give the king his blessing . . . and yet you have refused to bless King Tommen." "Your Grace is mistaken. We have not refused." "You have not come." "The hour is not yet ripe." - Cersei VI, AFFC

Why this confirms the High Sparrow is Howland Reed: Howland Reed knows no king but the King in the North, whose name is STARK.

Why this doesn't confirm the High Sparrow is Howland Reed: Because the High Sparrow knows that Tommen is a bastard, born from an incestuous relationship between brother and sister, and isn't the rightful king. Duh?

The High Sparrow and his flock seem outraged about Ned Stark's execution and the Red Wedding.

"Night soil can be washed away more easily than blood, Your Grace. If the plaza was befouled, it was befouled by the execution that was done here." He dares throw Ned Stark in my face? "We all regret that. Joffrey was young, and not as wise as he might have been. Lord Stark should have been beheaded elsewhere, out of respect for Blessed Baelor . . . but the man was a traitor, let us not forget." "King Baelor forgave those who conspired against him." - Cersei VI, AFFC

"These sparrows are especially outspoken," warned Qyburn. "The Red Wedding was an affront to all the laws of gods and men, they say, and those who had a hand in it are damned." - Cersei IV, AFFC

And yet Howland Reed had been one of Father's staunchest companions during the war for King Robert's crown, before Bran was born. - Bran III, ACOK

Why this confirms the High Sparrow is Howland Reed: Ride or die friend, until the end and beyond.

Why this doesn't confirm the High Sparrow is Howland Reed: Even indigenous people from Sothoryos condemn House Lannister for those things.

The High Sparrow appears intent on toppling House Lannister.

Howland Reed is the man.

Ser Kevan was unmoved. "If that is your wish, you may soon have it granted. His High Holiness is resolved that you be tried for regicide, deicide, incest, and high treason." - Cersei I, ADWD

Galbart Glover rubbed his mouth. "There are risks. If the crannogmen should fail you . . ." "We will be no worse than before. But they will not fail. My father knew the worth of Howland Reed." - Catelyn V, ASOS

Why this confirms the High Sparrow is Howland Reed: Arya Stark and Lady Stoneheart aren't the only ones seeking justice around here.

Why this doesn't confirm the High Sparrow is Howland Reed: Who doesn't want to bring down House Lannister? Moreover, his focus isn't solely on House Lannister. The man starts foaming at the mouth whenever he sees a brothel.

It's well-known that crannogmen favor trickery and stealthy tactics over open warfare.

He tried to recall all he had been taught of the crannogmen, who dwelt amongst the bogs of the Neck and seldom left their wetlands. They were a poor folk, fishers and frog-hunters who lived in houses of thatch and woven reeds on floating islands hidden in the deeps of the swamp. It was said that they were a cowardly people who fought with poisoned weapons and preferred to hide from foes rather than face them in open battle. - Bran III, ACOK

"We won't find them," the Frey boy said suddenly. "Not so long as the frogeaters are with them. Mudmen are sneaks, they won't fight like decent folks, they skulk and use poison arrows. You never see them, but they see you. Those who go into the bogs after them get lost and never come out. Their houses move, even the castles like Greywater Watch." He glanced nervously at greenery that encircled them on all sides. "They might be out there right now, listening to everything we say." - Theon IV, ACOK

"Once there was a curious lad who lived in the Neck. He was small like all crannogmen, but brave and smart and strong as well. He grew up hunting and fishing and climbing trees, and learned all the magics of my people." Bran was almost certain he had never heard this story. "Did he have green dreams like Jojen?" "No," said Meera, "but he could breathe mud and run on leaves, and change earth to water and water to earth with no more than a whispered word. He could talk to trees and weave words and make castles appear and disappear." - Bran II, ASOS

Why this confirms the High Sparrow is Howland Reed: Adopting a new identity to disrupt from within might suit Howland Reed well.

Why this doesn't confirm the High Sparrow is Howland Reed: Making yourself one of the most powerful players in Westeros using the violent Faith Militant is anything but subtle.

The High Septon and his sparrows aren't very popular amongst the nobility.

Many in the Seven Kingdoms look down on crannogmen.

"Like as not," Ser Balman agreed. "Rosby's ward was not the only one to vex us, Your Grace. We encountered ruffians on the road as well. Filthy, unkempt creatures, with leather shields and axes. Some had stars sewn on their jerkins, sacred stars of seven points, but they had an evil look about them all the same." "They were lice-ridden, I am certain," added Falyse. "They call themselves sparrows," said Cersei. "A plague upon the land. Our new High Septon will need to deal with them, once he is crowned. If not, I shall deal with them myself." - Cersei V, AFFC

"Do not presume to preach at me," she told him. "The brothel keepers have been complaining, and rightly so." "If sinners speak, why should the righteous listen?" - Cersei VIII, AFFC

"Frogeaters don't smell like men," Frey insisted. "They have a boggy stink, like frogs and trees and scummy water. Moss grows under their arms in place of hair, and they can live with nothing to eat but mud and breathe swamp water." - Theon IV, ACOK

Why this confirms the High Sparrow is Howland Reed: Those are accurate statements.

Why this doesn't confirm the High Sparrow is Howland Reed: How is this at all similar?

Howland Reed may have once disguised himself as a mystery knight.

"It was the little crannogman, I bet." "No one knew," said Meera, "but the mystery knight was short of stature, and clad in ill-fitting armor made up of bits and pieces. The device upon his shield was a heart tree of the old gods, a white weirwood with a laughing red face." - Bran II, ASOS

Why this confirms the High Sparrow is Howland Reed: Uh—

Why this doesn't confirm the High Sparrow is Howland Reed: That wasn't Howland Reed.

COUNTER-EVIDENCE:

Is this necessary? I know a lot can happen in 17 years, but these two men are clearly not portraying the same person.

Fine.

George R. R. Martin confirmed that Howland Reed would eventually make an appearance, implying that he hasn't already.

Question: It had been stated that Howland Reed would come out in The Winds of Winter, which is the 5th book. Will he still come in the 5th book (A Dance with Dragon)? Answer: He will appear eventually. - George R. R. Martin

The High Sparrow is an old man.

Howland Reed is not an old man.

The old man's eyes were chips of flint. - Cersei I, ADWD

He was still a scrawny grey-haired man with a lean, hard, half-starved look, his face sharp-featured, lined, his eyes suspicious. - Cersei I, ADWD

How old is Howland Reed? He'd be in his thirties. - George R. R. Martin

The High Septon and his flock of sparrows are clearly going to die in The Winds of Winter.

"They call themselves sparrows," said Cersei. "A plague upon the land. Our new High Septon will need to deal with them, once he is crowned. If not, I shall deal with them myself." - Cersei VI, AFFC

This is what comes of letting fools and cowards rule themselves. Next time, I will choose their master for them. And the next time might not be long in coming, if the new High Septon continued to annoy her. Baelor's Hand had little to teach Cersei Lannister where such matters were concerned. - Cersei VI, AFFC

No one was smiling now. The looks the sparrows gave her were dull, sullen, hostile. They made way but reluctantly. If they were truly sparrows, a shout would send them flying. A hundred gold cloaks with staves and swords and maces could clear this rabble quick enough. That was what Lord Tywin would have done. He would have ridden over them instead of walking through. - Cersei VI, AFFC

Are you a priest or a greengrocer? "And what might I do to make it . . . riper?" If he dares mention gold, I will deal with this one as I did the last and find a pious eight-year-old to wear the crystal crown. - Cersei VI, AFFC

The Kettleblacks, I need the Kettleblacks, I will send in Osfryd with the gold cloaks and Osmund with the Kingsguard, Osney will deny it all once they cut him free, and I'll rid myself of this High Septon just as I did the other. - Cersei X, AFFC

Cersei's gaze swept across the faces of the men behind him. And there he was: Lancel, her cousin, Ser Kevan's son, who had once professed to love her, before he decided that he loved the gods more. My blood and my betrayer. She would not forget him. - Cersei II, ADWD

Cersei would have him killed out of hand if she learned he was betraying her, and if by some grace of the gods she did not, Lancel would never survive the day Jaime Lannister returned to King's Landing. The only question would be whether Jaime cut him down in a jealous rage, or Cersei murdered him first to keep Jaime from finding out. Tyrion's silver was on Cersei. - Tyrion VII, ACOK

In fact, the High Sparrow is likely already deceased towards the beginning of The Winds of Winter.

"Whatever Cersei may have done, she is still a daughter of the Rock, of mine own blood. I will not let her die a traitor's death, but I have made sure to draw her fangs. All her guards have been dismissed and replaced with my own men. In place of her former ladies-in-waiting, she will henceforth be attended by a septa and three novices selected by the High Septon. She is to have no further voice in the governance of the realm, nor in Tommen's education. I mean to return her to Casterly Rock after the trial and see that she remains there. Let that suffice." - Epilogue, ADWD

↓↓↓

"How long do you think we'll be here?" "Longer than you'd like," the old man replied. "If he goes back without the gold the queen will have his head. Besides, I seen that wife of his. There's steps in Casterly Rock she can't go down for fear she'd get stuck, that's how fat she is. Who'd go back to that, when he has his sooty queen?" - Mercy, TWOW

Whoops! How'd that queen regain power?

Now we'll never figure out who Jon's parents are.

On a serious note, Howland Reed is neither dead nor on the brink of death, and he has a significant role to play in the upcoming books, none of which are related to religious fanaticism.

Other things to consider:

The High Sparrow isn't a good person, and his actions aren't commendable.

Howland Reed follows the Old Gods. It's a bit of a stretch to believe he could convincingly pose as a High Septon.

Howland Reed might be somewhat reclusive, but many people could recognize him. He participated in the Rebellion, and was at Harrenhal with numerous other nobles.

How do you even begin to devise this plan? "I'm going to wander the riverlands in the hopes of leading a religious uprising and becoming the voice of God, so I may avenge Ned Stark." Sure, okay.

What in the world? Why? How so?

STUMPY'S THOUGHTS:

If you think that's the craziest Howland Reed theory we're going to explore, just you wait.

VOTE:

I welcome discussions. Feel free to reblog, respond, or challenge my perspective—I won't be offended by any of it.

Please note, if "no" is the eventual winner, or if it's competitive, a second poll will be conducted to determine the proper location.

NEXT THEORY:

Tormund Giantsbane x Maege Mormont

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#operation iceberg #asoiaf theory tier list #theory 13 #hs = hr

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francy-sketches · 7 months

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#idk this shot just kinda reminded me of the walter white despair image #walder of house white or whatever #the amount of time I put into this is embarrassing #idk if you can tell but I tried to make him lean forward so it matched the head 😭

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thelustybraavosimaid · 1 year

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Heed the Direwolves.

Bran looked around for the direwolves. Both had vanished into the wood. "Did you hear Summer howling last night?"

"Grey Wind was restless too," Robb said. His auburn hair had grown shaggy and unkempt, and a reddish stubble covered his jaw, making him look older than his fifteen years. "Sometimes I think they know things…sense things…" Robb sighed. "I never know how much to tell you, Bran. I wish you were older." (Bran V, AGoT)

"Any man Grey Wind mislikes is a man I do not want close to you. These wolves are more than wolves, Robb. You must know that. I think perhaps the gods sent them to us. Your father's gods, the old gods of the north. Five wolf pups, Robb, five for five Stark children." (Catelyn II, ASoS)

"Wolves and women wed for life," Haggon often said. "You take one, that's a marriage. The wolf is part of you from that day on, and you're part of him. Both of you will change." (Prologue, ADwD)

Lady's Hatred:

"The king is gone hunting, but I know he will be pleased to see you when he returns," the queen was saying to the two knights who knelt before her, but Sansa could not take her eyes off the third man. He seemed to feel the weight of her gaze. Slowly he turned his head. Lady growled. A terror as overwhelming as anything Sansa Stark had ever felt filled her suddenly. She stepped backward and bumped into someone.

...

The tension of a few moments ago was gone, and Sansa was beginning to feel comfortable…until Ser Ilyn Payne shouldered two men aside, and stood before her, unsmiling. He did not say a word. Lady bared her teeth and began to growl, a low rumble full of menace, but this time Sansa silenced the wolf with a gentle hand to the head. "I am sorry if I offended you, Ser Ilyn," she said. (Sansa I, AGoT)

Ser Ilyn drew a two-handed greatsword from the scabbard on his back. As he lifted the blade above his head, sunlight seemed to ripple and dance down the dark metal, glinting off an edge sharper than any razor. Ice, she thought, he has Ice! Her tears streamed down her face, blinding her. (Arya V, AGoT)

Grey Wind's Warning:

There was more trouble at the gatehouse. Grey Wind balked in the middle of the drawbridge, shook the rain off, and howled at the portcullis. Robb whistled impatiently. "Grey Wind. What is it? Grey Wind, with me." But the direwolf only bared his teeth. He does not like this place, Catelyn thought. Robb had to squat and speak softly to the wolf before he would consent to pass beneath the portcullis. By then Lame Lothar and Walder Rivers had come up. "It's the sound of the water he fears," Rivers said. "Beasts know to avoid the river in flood." (Catelyn VI, ASoS)

The players in the gallery had finally gotten both king and queen down to their name-day suits. With scarcely a moment's respite, they began to play a very different sort of song. No one sang the words, but Catelyn knew "The Rains of Castamere" when she heard it. Edwyn was hurrying toward a door. She hurried faster, driven by the music. Six quick strides and she caught him. And who are you, the proud lord said, that I must bow so low? She grabbed Edwyn by the arm to turn him and went cold all over when she felt the iron rings beneath his silken sleeve.

...

A man in dark armor and a pale pink cloak spotted with blood stepped up to Robb. "Jaime Lannister sends his regards." He thrust his longsword through her son's heart, and twisted. (Catelyn VII, ASoS)

Ghost's Irritability:

Outside the armory, Mully and the Flea stood shivering at guard. "Shouldn't you be inside, out of this wind?" Jon asked. "That'd be sweet, m'lord," said Fulk the Flea, "but your wolf's in no mood for company today." Mully agreed. "He tried to take a bite o' me, he did." "Ghost?" Jon was shocked. "Unless your lordship has some other white wolf, aye. I never seen him like this, m'lord. All wild-like, I mean."

He was not wrong, as Jon discovered for himself when he slipped inside the doors. The big white direwolf would not lie still. He paced from one end of the armory to the other, past the cold forge and back again. "Easy, Ghost," Jon called. "Down. Sit, Ghost. Down." Yet when he made to touch him, the wolf bristled and bared his teeth. It's that bloody boar. Even in here, Ghost can smell his stink. (Jon XIII, ADwD)

...

Jon fell to his knees. He found the dagger's hilt and wrenched it free. In the cold night air the wound was smoking. "Ghost," he whispered. Pain washed over him. Stick them with the pointy end. When the third dagger took him between the shoulder blades, he gave a grunt and fell face-first into the snow. He never felt the fourth knife. Only the cold… (Jon XIII, ADwD)

#asoiaf #ramble

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imaginarianisms · 1 month

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thinking about how rickon stark at such a young age when he was like literally six years old (& literally three years old but our asoiaf munchkins are aged up like the show is & even then six is insanely young thats still a baby thats like literal preschool to just starting school age. lmao) was literally in the deepest, darkest parts of the crypts of winterfell for DAYS in the pitch black with no tapers, no candles, no lamps & no lights & with no fear & didn't even come back up. like. how many kids do you know that can do that lmao. thats the equivalent of like leaving a kid alone in a cemetery in the middle of the night in pitch black w/ no lights. for the vast majority of the time nobody knew where rickon or shaggydog was in winterfell. & not only that, at his very young age, at age 6-7 (age 4 in the books) he TAUGHT HIMSELF TO VOLUNTARILY WARG into shaggydog AT WILL before bran or jon or arya ever did & he didn't even have jojen reed let alone anyone to teach him. & not to mention when he gets hurt it doesn't even bother him. when he & the twin freys were playing, one of the walders hit him HARD. he gets OBLITERATED. & in a flash shaggydog got PISSED & then rickon just started LAUGHING HYSTERICALLY. that's a TOUGH little dude. most kids his age would be on the floor crying when they're hit in the chest by a kid more than twice his age. & THEN from THAT MOMENT ON the walders were basically rickon disciples lmao. they were more than twice his age & they would follow him all around the castle & he would use them to get stuff done. & he basically had free reign of the kitchens & stealing the cakes & meat & doing whatever he wants & getting these much older kids to do what he wants them to do which indicates even at his young age he's got leadership qualities. that's like a kid in late preschool to JUST starting elementary school & having all these 5th & 6th graders wanting to be his friend lmao. he was FEARLESS at such a young age & shaggydog made him fearless.

he also had more time to bond with his direwolf because he wasn't in a coma & was also being completely neglected because ned had gone south with sansa & arya, robb was busy at winterfell with everything going on & he was only a teenager himself & he even told his mother to care for rickon, too, bc he'd follow him around everywhere crying, he'd refuse to let anybody cut his hair, maester luwin had no idea where he was most of the time so half of the entire winterfell guard was out here looking for this kid after catelyn left, bran, her favorite son who she didn't want him to leave winterfell, was in a coma & catelyn neglected her household duties out of grief & ignored rickon (as well as robb, & didnt even say goodbye to ned, sansa or arya when they left for king's landing) completely so in his state of neglect he bonded even moreso with his direwolf. & he's this tiny little kid that's full of rage. like. everyone left him. his father left him & his mother left & he's not forgiving her. like. this kid is severely traumatized has next level anger inside of him for someone his age to the point where he PULLS A SWORD on maester luwin & sics his direwolf on him. this is a teeny tiny fuckin kid, this is a tiny lil dude & this kid is just fierce as FUCK.

& not to mention he says some really prophetic shit too. when robb leaves & bran says they'll be back, rickon states "no they won't". & that's not a question; that was a statement. & that wasn't in a frightened child way. in his mind, his father left & his mother left & robb left & his family abandoned him & never came back & he's never going to see his father, his mother or his oldest brother ever again. this kid's been in winter his whole life. & how shaggydog is pitch black & has green eyes in contrast with jon's direwolf ghost who is white as snow & has red eyes & literally no other direwolf has ever been recorded to look like that & the old gods have specifically made them look like that to be the most magically gifted. his role is going to be crazy magical. he's not gonna run into a straight line & die like the show does lmao. & not to mention osha who knew all about skinchangers because she's beyond the wall & on skagos they're closer to the free folk culturally than they are to the northmen. so like when davos brings this kid back this kid is gonna be insanely powerful, like varamyr sixskins on steroids. this kid's gonna have this gigantic black direwolf shaggydog, a unicorn, flocks of eagles & families of polar bears & shadowcats & herds of mammoths & packs of wolves all at once. he would be the living embodiment of the children of the forest of old. & so like. even when rickon by the winds of winter-a dream of spring is like. 13. thats still insanely young. like. elementary school level kid.

#out of the galaxy. || ooc.#rickon stark. || study.#rickon stark. || headcanons.#faction; house stark.#he's prolly gonna be rly emotionally stunted too due to years of trauma & not trusting ppl :<#osha was the only parent he ever remembers having. he makes me so sad idk sb give him a friend. take care of bby rickon

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elegantwoes · 2 years

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“It is better than the songs,” she whispered when they found the places that her father had promised her, among the high lords and ladies. Sansa was dressed beautifully that day, in a green gown that brought out the auburn of her hair, and she knew they were looking at her and smiling.

Our precious cinammon roll is enjoying herself (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

“His armor is bronze, thousands and thousands of years old, engraved with magic runes that ward him against harm,” she whispered to Jeyne. Septa Mordane pointed out Lord Jason Mallister, in indigo chased with silver, the wings of an eagle on his helm. ... The twins Ser Horas and Ser Hobber, whose shields displayed the grape cluster sigil of the Redwynes, burgundy on blue. Patrek Mallister, Lord Jason’s son. Six Freys of the Crossing: Ser Jared, Ser Hosteen, Ser Danwell, Ser Emmon, Ser Theo, Ser Perwyn, sons and grandsons of old Lord Walder Frey, and his bastard son Martyn Rivers as well

Look at Sansa showing off her skils in history and heraldy.

Jeyne covered her eyes whenever a man fell, like a frightened little girl, but Sansa was made of sterner stuff. A great lady knew how to behave at tournaments. Even Septa Mordane noted her composure and nodded in approval.

GRRM subtly reminding the readers that Sansa has a certain inner strength that is rivalled by few.

The most terrifying moment of the day came during Ser Gregor’s second joust, when his lance rode up and struck a young knight from the Vale under the gorget with such force that it drove through his throat, killing him instantly ... His cloak was blue, the color of the sky on a clear summer’s day, trimmed with a border of crescent moons, but as his blood seeped into it, the cloth darkened and the moons turned red, one by one

This is clearly a foreshadowing for the Mountain Clansmen interrupting the Winged Knight's Tourney and blood spilling into the Gates of the Moon.

She had never seen a man die before. She ought to be crying too, she thought, but the tears would not come. Perhaps she had used up all her tears for Lady and Bran. It would be different if it had been Jory or Ser Rodrik or Father, she told herself. The young knight in the blue cloak was nothing to her, some stranger from the Vale of Arryn whose name she had forgotten as soon as she heard it. And now the world would forget his name too, Sansa realized; there would be no songs sung for him. That was sad

I remember in the early years of being part of the ASOIAF fandom and frequently going on the forum site Westeros.org. This scene was often used to proof that Sansa was a sociopath. Which is weird, because first of she admonishes herself for her lack of reaction and in the end she's still saddened by Ser Hugh's death. Secondly, anyone with a brain can see this scene establishes that Sansa, like her brother Bran, can keep her composure in the face of death.

Ser Loras was the youngest son of Mace Tyrell, the Lord of Highgarden and Warden of the South. At sixteen, he was the youngest rider on the field, yet he had unhorsed three knights of the Kingsguard that morning in his first three jousts. Sansa had never seen anyone so beautiful .... To the other maidens he had given white roses, but the one he plucked for her was red. “Sweet lady,” he said, “no victory is half so beautiful as you.” Sansa took the flower timidly, struck dumb by his gallantry. His hair was a mass of lazy brown curls, his eyes like liquid gold. She inhaled the sweet fragrance of the rose and sat clutching it long after Ser Loras had ridden off.

It should be noted that while Sansa initially was taken by Ser Loras beautiful looks, what made her fall for him was the romantic courtly gesture of him giving her a red rose and unofficially declaring her Queen of Love and Beauty. Meaning in order to capture Sansa's heart you have to shower her with romantic gestures. Interestingly enough, the pedophilic characters who Sansa is often shipped with (*coughs* cujo come again *coughs*) don't show any sign of being romantic enough to court Sansa in the way she wants to be courted. The oone who does fit this description is our sour patch kid Jon Snow. Now he knows how to court a lady. Your ugly pedophile fave can never compare to him (✿◡‿◡).

“You must be one of her daughters,” he said to her. He had grey-green eyes that did not smile when his mouth did. “You have the Tully look.” “I’m Sansa Stark,” she said, ill at ease. The man wore a heavy cloak with a fur collar, fastened with a silver mockingbird, and he had the effortless manner of a high lord, but she did not know him. “I have not had the honor, my lord.” Septa Mordane quickly took a hand. “Sweet child, this is Lord Petyr Baelish, of the king’s small council.” “Your mother was my queen of beauty once,” the man said quietly. His breath smelled of mint. “You have her hair.” His fingers brushed against her cheek as he stroked one auburn lock. Quite abruptly he turned and walked away.

What I would like to know is WHY ON EARTH IS SEPTA MORDANE SITTING IDLY BY AS THIS CREEP IS TOUCHING SANSA. This old woman has one job and she can't even do it right. ╰(艹皿艹 )

Sansa and Septa Mordane were given places of high honor, to the left of the raised dais where the king himself sat beside his queen. When Prince Joffrey seated himself to her right, she felt her throat tighten. He had not spoken a word to her since the awful thing had happened, and she had not dared to speak to him. At first she thought she hated him for what they’d done to Lady, but after Sansa had wept her eyes dry, she told herself that it had not been Joffrey’s doing, not truly. The queen had done it; she was the one to hate, her and Arya. Nothing bad would have happened except for Arya.

imagine reading this part and not seeing how Sansa is desperately trying to convince herself that Joffrey isn't who she thinks he is and even then she barely convinces herself by the looks of the next passage:

She could not hate Joffrey tonight. He was too beautiful to hate. He wore a deep blue doublet studded with a double row of golden lion’s heads, and around his brow a slim coronet made of gold and sapphires. His hair was as bright as the metal. Sansa looked at him and trembled, afraid that he might ignore her or, worse, turn hateful again and send her weeping from the table.

Sansa shows signs of having the battered woman syndrome. Did the fandom notice this? Did they even care about Sansa and the horrible situation is in? Of course they don't. They are too busy hating on her. This is why I fucking hate a certain section of this fandom when they speak on the so called dangers of Sansa being the ideal westerosi noble lady. When you can't understand the great nuance to why Sansa made that choice during the Trident incident and why she chose to forgive both Cersei and Joffrey then you should keep your mouth shut and never ever talk about Sansa.

And Joffrey was the soul of courtesy. He talked to Sansa all night, showering her with compliments, making her laugh, sharing little bits of court gossip, explaining Moon Boy’s japes. Sansa was so captivated that she quite forgot all her courtesies and ignored Septa Mordane, seated to her left

Notice how only after Joffrey love bombs her that Sansa finally decides to forgive him and thinks that what happened at the Trident was only a fluke. Once again does the fandom notice? Of course not. They are too busy sucking off the fan favorite characters and don't bother to understand the nuance to Sansa's chapters, especially her AGOT chapters.

“Do you need an escort back to the castle?” “No,” Sansa began. She looked for Septa Mordane, and was startled to find her with her head on the table, snoring soft and ladylike snores. “I mean to say … yes, thank you, that would be most kind. I am tired, and the way is so dark. I should be glad for some protection.”

I swear this woman is the WORST SEPTA IN PLANETOS.

Sansa could feel the Hound watching her. “Did you think Joff was going to take you himself?” He laughed. He had a laugh like the snarling of dogs in a pit ... Suddenly terrified, Sansa pushed at Septa Mordane’s shoulder, hoping to wake her, but she only snored the louder. King Robert had stumbled off and half the benches were suddenly empty. The feast was over, and the beautiful dream had ended with it.

Sansa is clearly terrified by Cujo come again and yet some people have convinced themselves that this is a grand romance.

Sansa could not bear the sight of him, he frightened her so, yet she had been raised in all the ways of courtesy. A true lady would not notice his face, she told herself. “You rode gallantly today, Ser Sandor,” she made herself say. Sandor Clegane snarled at her. “Spare me your empty little compliments, girl … and your ser’s. I am no knight. I spit on them and their vows. My brother is a knight. Did you see him ride today?” “Yes,” Sansa whispered, trembling. “He was …” “Gallant?” the Hound finished. He was mocking her, she realized. “No one could withstand him,” she managed at last, proud of herself. It was no lie. Sandor Clegane stopped suddenly in the middle of a dark and empty field. She had no choice but to stop beside him. “Some septa trained you well. You’re like one of those birds from the Summer Isles, aren’t you? A pretty little talking bird, repeating all the pretty little words they taught you to recite.” “That’s unkind.” Sansa could feel her heart fluttering in her chest. “You’re frightening me. I want to go now.”

Sansa tries to start a conversation out of politeness and this nasty man has to derride her for this. He goes on to mock her skills and even when she makes a clever comment he still denigrates her despite knowing full well that her courtesies is something she should be fucking proud of. God this man is so hateful. He can't accept anything being good and kind. Everyone needs to be as equally miserable as him. (* ￣︿￣).

Sandor Clegane put a huge hand under her chin and forced her face up. He squatted in front of her, and moved the torch close. “There’s a pretty for you. Take a good long stare. You know you want to. I’ve watched you turning away all the way down the kingsroad. Piss on that. Take your look.”

This is the second older man that touches Sansa's face without her consent, but sure tell me how cujo come again, is so much better than Pedofinger and the King of Incels.

The rasping voice trailed off. He squatted silently before her, a hulking black shape shrouded in the night, hidden from her eyes. Sansa could hear his ragged breathing. She was sad for him, she realized. Somehow, the fear had gone away. The silence went on and on, so long that she began to grow afraid once more, but she was afraid for him now, not for herself. She found his massive shoulder with her hand. “He was no true knight,” she whispered to him.

Despite the fact that cujo come again has been so rude to her, had every intention to break her spirit and her ideals, Sansa rises above it, and shows us her unyielding side. 'He was no true knight.' And she's right. Even if the insitution of knighthood is corrupt that doesn't mean chivalry isn't worth upholding. In fact it's especially in face of adversity that you should stay true to the knightly ideals. Cujo come again take note from Sansa Stark.

The Hound caught her by the arm and leaned close. “The things I told you tonight,” he said, his voice sounding even rougher than usual. “If you ever tell Joffrey … your sister, your father … any of them …” “I won’t,” Sansa whispered. “I promise.” It was not enough. “If you ever tell anyone,” he finished, “I’ll kill you.

In case you guys didn't know, threatening to kill someone is a great way to start off a romance. /s

Next chapter our reluctant detective: Ned Stark.

#asoiaf reread project #rereading agot #Sansa Stark #a little bit of Jonsa #anti asoiaf fandom #anti sandor clegane #anti sansan #i am quite opinionated in this post #so buckle up everyone

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