bogheir-blog

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♛ THE WOLVES HAVE COME AGAIN

Though not yet a man grown, King Brandon Stark had lived a thousand lives and one. During the Long Night, he had seen and done more than most men ever would through the whole course of their lives. Yet, when he returned to Winterfell after the War for the Dawn, he found that his bannermen and bannerwomen looked upon him as they would a child. Worse, a crippled child. No amount of greendreams, skinchanging, nor any other magic would change that. But efforts to earn their respect and prove his worth would.

The restoration of the North was no easy task. Winter and the Boltons had ravaged the land and the people. But with the snows thawed and the flayed men in their graves, the spring that began Bran’s reign could only bring about better times. The young king formed a council around him representing the vast and varied land he was to govern. He called to him she-bears and mermen, Skagosi and Crannogmen, the moose and the silver fists, men of the mountain clans and even the free folk. This was not often a harmonious council in the early days, but together they could work in the interests of every region.

As a man, Bran shifted his focus from rebuilding the North to enhancing the kingdom beyond the state it was in before the wars. That meant taking Lord Manderly’s advice and building ships to give them strength at sea to guard both their coasts. That meant arranging for a few towns to grown into cities with greenhouses to support the people through the long winters. That meant pushing for the wider acceptance of women in leadership positions, an already common reality in his reign given the loss of so many male lords and heirs  in the wars.

Stories that would become myths and legends would remember him as Brandon the Winged Wolf, Brandon Dragonskin, and Brandon the Bringer of Dawn. The histories would regard him as Brandon the Rebuilder, Brandon the Summer King, and King Brandon, the Forty-Fifth of His Name. Though he would never walk on his own legs again, Bran would never be known as Brandon the Broken.

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boop the little heart for a starter. alternatively, if we had threads prior to my binch ass disappearing && you wanna continue them, let me know n3rds.

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the only person who deserves the iron throne is meera reed and you all can fight me on this

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Bran Stark + Meera Reed // Blue Oni + Red Oni

requested by @ladyflorence1215

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asoiaf meme: 3/9 houses

House Reed of Greywater Watch is a noble house from Greywater Watch, and one of the principal families in the north. They rule the crannogmen, small men who live in swamps and marshes in the Neck. According to a semi-canon source, the Reeds descend from the First Men.The Reeds first swore their oaths of fealty to House Stark when the Starks were Kings in the North, thousands of years ago.

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SISTER.

       brUTHAAarRRr

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Huge crush on Meera Reed

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Bran and Meera weren’t even on a lot people’s radar before this… and now…

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Benjen: Brandon. I am telling you this as a loving family member...

Bran:

Meera:

Benjen:

Benjen: Get your shit together

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Jojen. Derived from the Japanese word 助言 or ‘jogen’ (joh guh n). Jogen, or advice, (noun), means to give a suggestion, an opinion or recommendation offered as a guide to action. To act as a counsel and to give warning or give caution. It comes from Latin visum, neuter past participle of videre ‘to see’ or 'vision’; something seen in the imagination or in the supernatural. “A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies. The man who never reads only lives one.”

                                                          R.I.P. Jojen Reed.

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Good people are like candles; they burn themselves up to give others light.

Turkish Proverb (via fyp-philosophy)

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she had always been kind. taught from her father, before he ever once dared to teach her to be brave ( the neck would do that plenty ), she had always been mindful of her manners && her kindness. mindful of the help she could provide others. mindful of what it meant to be part of the reed name, to carry it on as beautifully as her father did. she had always been thoughtful and giving ; self-sacrificing, even to a fault. a smile never left her when she could muster it. it never wavered or strayed from her face. it never ceased to exist ; the daughter of the swamplands, shining bright enough to break sunlight through the willows && the blue-grey marshes. ━━━━━ but how was she to smile now?

they were all gone. her friends, her own brother ; how was she to smile without them? how was she ever going to be that sunshine again? where was her warmth? where was her compassion now? it felt in ruins in the pit of her stomach. knotted && twisted about with her guts, lost somewhere as though it’d been a dream all along. she had come so far, and for what? to what end, to what means? what purpose did all of this serve?

she were stirred in the midst of her sleep ; rolling against the furs and snowbed, feeling it begin to dampen against her skin even while she rests. in her head, she was far from north of the wall. as south as she wanted to be, somewhere happier and warmer. somewhere her father could find her, nestled at the edge of the sibling’s favorite fishing spot. and yet, it too felt desolate and wasteful, lonesome and exhausting. the sound of the crickets, the gurgling of the murk before her, and the rustling of the draping willow leaves as they swayed against bog and dangerous creatures all around. and just when it all felt as hopeless as when she were awake, she felt him. her other half, her blessed brother ; a shadow in the dark, at first, but as he neared the young crannog felt chills rolling up and down her back. ━━━━━ was this real? was he alive after all? had they not left him for dead, burnt his body, after all?

she lifts her head to meet him, scrambling against the mud and driftwood to rise to her feet. ❝ jojen... ❞ voice cracks && breaks, brittle as ever. she wants to go to him. to hold her brother close && breakdown against his chest, but her body is stiff as a board and she finds herself paralyzed in place. ❝ i failed them. i failed you. ❞

      ALTHOUGH IT WOULD SEEM SO REAL, ‘tis but a fleeting dream, bittersweet as it were to reunite a lost brother with his beloved sister. Jojen appeared before Meera as he had BRAN STARK; a mere silhouette within the thick of a massive fog that clung to their homeland. The clearer his image became ( his shape unmistakable regardless ), the thinner the mist grew, until it inevitably granted the sorrowful sister an explicit visual ━ of Jojen Reed somehow, some way, ALIVE and standing at the edge of their favorite fishing grounds.

      In despite of his deceased status, he does not seem troubled by the fact he is breathing; instead, he is concerned about something else, something of far greater importance: HIS SISTER.

      “Meera…” It’d been a while since that name left his cracked lips, the prince undoubtedly perturbed by his sister’s obvious dismay. For what could trouble the resolute daughter of HOWLAND REED? It simply did not suit her, a girl meant to laugh and smile and DANCE within the murky waters of her swamp as if not a soul were watching.

@bogheir

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Meera Reed Appreciation Set

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ofhotheads:

a moment of silence for all the threads you were super-excited about that never got past 3 replies

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bran / the reeds is such a great ship like it’s my favorite ship in the heckin world

Keep reading

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OK OK I NEED TO REST A LITTLE BIT long day ahead, so i’ll be back to answer memes and whatnot later you nerds <3

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Unlike the rest of Westeros, we keep no garrisons and raise no soldiers for petty spats with our neighbors. Our land protects its own. […] Many would-be conquerors died trying to find us. With war all around and our Stark lord beseiged on all sides, many more will doubtless soon try. They will look at us on a map and see a stranglehold for the North and they will forget that the sea itself once entered the Neck and not all of it returned. 

HISTORIES AND LORE: House Reed