#Blue is a loving and extremely unreliable source

[somegrumpynerd]

(Narrator voice) It was not how everyone felt

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Martyrs and Kings AND ZOMBIES!!!

A/N: I'm so excited to share this spooky, sexy one-shot sequel to Martyrs and Kings! I've been planning this fic for months, and I hope y'all love it. Quick note: obviously, this fic contains spoilers for M&K; however, it was beta-read by my partner who has not (yet) read the original fic, and they said it worked as a stand-alone story, so if you haven't read M&K yet and don't mind spoilers, read on!

This fic is dedicated to the amazing @clonemedickix in gratitude for all the love and support that you've shown me and so many others in the fandom. Thank you so much for everything you do, and particularly thank you for your feedback on the field medicine. You are a rock star!

One final caveat: I am a horror wimp, but I did my best. Please don't expect Stephen King 💜

Pairing: Post-stasis Kix x OFC Dr. Maree Finnall

Rating: M (minors DNI)

Wordcount: 5k (this just made M&K 10% longer lol)

Warnings and tags: peril; suspense; violence; blood and injury; gore; medical procedures; adult language; SMUT; oral sex; face-sitting; Kix activating my competence kink like no other. IMPORTANT: an additional content warning is listed at the end of the fic due to spoilers. If you have triggers, please check the end of the fic for the BOLD PINK TEXT before reading.

Summary: The crew of the Meson Martinet goes after the score of a lifetime and discover that they may have bitten off more than they can chew.

Suggested listening:

Martyrs and Kings chapter 1 | Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list

“B1.5-series battle droids are a myth,” Kix said firmly. “You’re wasting your time.”

“The good doctor doesn’t share your opinion,” Quiggold argued.

Sidon Ithano, as usual, said nothing, his crimson helmet swiveling slowly toward Maree. Kix turned to her as well, his jaw set, his eyes full of confidence that she would back him up. Kriff it. She absolutely hated being caught in the middle of this argument.

She cleared her throat. “There’s… some debate in the academic community about their existence, actually. If they ever were created, they were never deployed at any recorded battle—and it’s a good thing, too.”

“Why is that, exactly?” Reeg Brosna asked.

He was sprawled on the bench of the dinette, his arm draped around Orys Brenko as the research assistant perked up immediately.

“Is it true that they used nanodroids to retrofit original B1-series droids?” Brenko asked, his face flushing dark green with excitement.

“That is one theory,” Maree said circumspectly, keenly aware of Kix’s scrutiny. “According to contemporary sources—and noting that those sources are unreliable at best—the B1.5s had significantly upgraded blaster resistance. There was another rumor as well, even less credible.”

“What rumor?” Reveth interrupted, leaning forward over the table, drawing Ithano’s attention subtly.

“They said the B1.5s could keep going even if you blasted their processors,” Kix cut in before Maree could reply. “It was a stupid story the commandos made up to scare the shinies.”

“But what if it wasn’t?” Brosna asked. “Indestructible battle droids? They’d be worth a fortune.”

“Even if they don’t exist, the haul from a Techno Union stronghold could set us up for life,” Reveth pointed out. “I say we go after it.”

Squeaky grunted his agreement, predictably. The Gamorrean was always guaranteed to follow the pretty Twi’lek’s lead. Reveth could have suggested a nude spacewalk, and Squeaky would have thought it was a grand idea. Brosna and Brenko voted in favor as well. Kix voted against, and Maree did as well, purely out of solidarity. Privately, she was consumed with curiosity about the B1.5s, and she couldn’t deny that the possibility of such a groundbreaking discovery was alluring in the extreme.

Quiggold voted in favor, and Ithano abstained, and so it was decided: the crew would send a team to scout the Techno Union stronghold, and if they found anything worthwhile, the rest of Ithano’s small fleet would join them.

“We’re gonna need your expertise, Doc,” Reveth said to Maree. 

“Absolutely not,” Kix snapped.

Maree glanced at him in surprise. It was unlike him to try to overrule her choice, and she didn’t care for it. “Reveth is right, Kix. I’ll be able to identify the highest-value items, and I have a good idea of what’s in demand.”

Kix looked away, clearly unhappy, but recognizing that he’d overstepped. “Fine. But if you’re going, I’m going, too.”

“We’ll need you to stay and command the fleet from the Scorpion while the captain is away,” Quiggold interjected.

“Fuck that,” Kix growled. “Brosna is my first mate—he can take command from the Scorpion. When it comes to Maree’s safety, I outrank everyone on this ship.”

“Brosna doesn’t have the experience—” Quiggold began.

“Agreed,” Ithano said, his deep voice cutting through the buzz of conversation and debate in the Martinet’s galley. “Quiggold, command the fleet from the Martinet. Brosna, take the Scorpion. Reveth, Squeaky, you’re with us.”

The captain’s decision was final, and within a few hours, Kix, Maree, Reveth, Squeaky, and Ithano had boarded the Scorpion’s shuttle Stinger and departed for the desolate moon where the Techno Union base had sat untouched for over fifty years.

“Fifty credits says we find nothing,” Kix said.

“I’ll take that bet,” Reveth replied.

Squeaky grunted his agreement. Ithano said nothing.

“Maree, you want in on this action?” Reveth asked.

“Kix and I have a private bet on the side,” Maree said with a mischievous twinkle as Kix shot her an inscrutable look.

Reveth smirked. “Sounds like fun.”

“Oh, it will be,” Maree replied. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of crimson as Ithano moved through the shuttle. On impulse, she leaned in and whispered in Reveth’s ear cone.

Reveth’s eyes widened as her mechanical hand instinctively settled on Maree’s waist. “Damn. You and Kix want a third for that?”

Ithano’s helmet whipped to the side as he suddenly became very interested in the conversation. Maree suppressed a laugh.

“What do you think, Kix?” Maree asked with faux innocence. “Can Reveth play with us?”

Kix eyed her with a perfectly neutral expression that warned Maree he knew exactly what she was up to. “You gotta win that bet if you want to call the shots.”

“You’re on,” Maree replied immediately.

Ithano’s helmet swiveled from Maree, to Reveth, to Kix, and back to Reveth, but he said nothing. Kix merely turned back to the navigation controls and continued to pilot the shuttle toward their destination.

The old Techno Union stronghold was on a remote, swampy moon, and the dense vegetation had grown thickly over the past five decades. Kix was forced to set the shuttle down several klicks from the decrepit base. He didn’t like it. He didn’t kriffing like any of this. It was too far; they’d be too exposed; their progress would be too slow in the mud. He glanced at Maree and felt his anxiety spike.

How the kark am I supposed to protect her out there?

He double-checked her gear as she suited up, adjusting the fit of her holster for a quicker draw. He quickly inspected her blaster before handing it to her.

“What’s going on?” she asked quietly. “You’re on edge.”

He shook his head. “I don’t have a good feeling about this mission.”

“It’s not the first time we’ve gone into one of these old strongholds,” she pointed out. “We’ll be okay.”

He nodded. “Yeah. Yeah. You’re right. Just… Keep your eyes open.”

“I will,” she promised. “And I know you’ll watch my back. Just like I’ll watch yours.”

He traced his fingertips along her jaw as he pulled her closer to himself. He couldn’t feel her soft warmth through his armor, but her nearness felt comforting regardless. He kissed her gently, threading his fingers through the hair that she wore in loose braids. 

She looked so different now than she had the first time he’d met her two years earlier; her elegant wardrobe replaced with sturdy, practical clothing meant to withstand rough field work and the occasional blaster fight. But underneath, she still smelled like tea and honey and home. She was still the same—still his Maree.

“If you’re finished sucking the lips off her face, can we get going?” Reveth teased. “Droids aren’t gonna find themselves.”

Despite Kix’s misgivings, the trek to the derelict base was uneventful. Squeaky stayed with the shuttle in case they needed a quick extraction, while Ithano, Reveth, and Maree hacked their way through the underbrush along with Kix. It was slow going, and the swamp was creepy as hell, but eventually they made it to the plastcrete and durasteel structure.

There was no power to the base, so they cut their way through the sealed exterior blast doors. Once inside, the group fell silent as they made their way through the dusty, cobwebbed hallways. The base was pitch black inside, illuminated only by their own torches, and once again, Kix felt the simmering anxiety in his gut begin to roil.

“Something’s been living in here,” Reveth muttered, training the beam of her flashlight on a tangle of debris that was unmistakably a nest for something… large.

Kix didn’t respond, but he reached out and pulled Maree closer to himself, then drew one of his DC-17s. Ithano brought up the rear, his blaster rifle ready.

“Control center should be just ahead,” Maree whispered. “Reveth might be able to restore power from there.”

“We’ll be karked if she can’t,” Kix replied quietly.

“Happy thoughts, Kix,” Maree murmured.

Right. Happy thoughts. Spiced biscuits. Unlimited bacta. Maree’s tits. More credits than I’ve ever seen in my life. The Scorpion. Weapons caches. Maree’s thighs. Maree’s thighs on my shoulders. Maree’s thighs framing my face while she rides—uh, weapons caches.

“Control center,” Reveth called under her breath as she reached a sealed doorway.

They pried it open enough to squeeze through. Kix went first, sweeping his light across the room as he scanned for threats. Reveth followed, then Maree and Ithano. Reveth headed straight for the control console and plugged in her small power unit and began to fiddle with the controls.

“Happy thoughts,” Kix mumbled, returning to the doorway to keep watch over the pitch-dark corridor.

Within a few moments, Reveth let out a quiet, triumphant huff as the control console flickered to life, dimly illuminating the room. She went to work immediately, interfacing her datapad with the ancient console.

“Damn. Main power cells are depleted,” she said. “I’ll try to at least get emergency lighting turned on.”

“Why would the power be depleted if the base has been abandoned for decades?” Maree asked. “The Techno Union had extraordinarily advanced power cells that were capable of storing energy far longer.”

“Unless something used it,” Reveth said.

Kix swiveled his head to stare at the Twi’lek.

“Like what?” he bit out.

She shrugged. “Dunno. But we might find out as soon as I get the data decrypted.”

A distant, deep hum sounded, and red light flickered on throughout the base.

“Nicely done,” Maree told Reveth.

“Let’s get the data and get the kriff out of here,” Kix growled, hating every minute of their time in the farking spooky base.

“Working on it,” Reveth snapped. “Think you can do it faster?”

Ithano glanced between Kix and Reveth, then moved to join Kix at the doorway, blaster rifle raised. “What is it?”

“Not sure,” Kix replied quietly. “Something doesn’t feel right.”

Ever reticent, Ithano merely nodded and took up position across from him. Kix nodded in silent gratitude that the pirate captain didn’t question his instincts. Then again, the Crimson Corsair hadn’t survived this long by ignoring his gut. 

Kix’s eyes darted to Maree again. She leaned over the console, scrolling rapidly through the data files, searching for any hint of the information they sought. He turned back toward the hallway, his eyes scanning it watchfully.

“No kriffin’ way,” Maree gasped.

“What?” Kix and Reveth demanded in unison.

“You just lost a bet, my love,” Maree told Kix.

“Wait, really?” Reveth asked. “It’s real?”

“‘Project Ophio,’” Maree read, her voice low and hurried. “Principal investigator Vamb Tebrem. Project number T327H1138X99. Primary focus of study is to develop experimental NM-K reconstitutors with the purpose of enhancing the durability and combat acumen of extant B-1 series assets…” Her voice trailed off as she leaned closer to the console, flicking through the data hurriedly. “Project director reported a 62% success rate in the initial efficacy trial; however the experimental reconstitutors were prohibitively expensive to manufacture, and the unpredictability observed in field tests was not adequately resolved—what field tests?”

“You catch any of that?” Reveth asked Kix.

He shrugged. Maree’s voice had dropped to an inaudible murmur as she scrolled through the data, then opened another data file. A quiet chime sounded from the console, drawing Reveth’s attention.

A glowing hologram appeared over the console: wave after wave of battle droids locked in combat a group of clone commandos who should have been able to easily defeat the B-1s. But the droids just kept going. Nothing could stop their advance as they overwhelmed the commandos’ positions and tore them to pieces. Kix swallowed hard, hearing the screams of the dying commandos, unable to take his eyes off the hologram. Maree slapped a button on the console and the sound paused abruptly as the holo froze.

“Holy kark,” she breathed.

“What?” Reveth asked. “Is that not normal?”

“No,” Kix said grimly. “We need to get out of here.”

“Uh, about that…” Reveth said.

Ithano swiveled his head toward the Twi’lek. “What?”

“Opening that holofile triggered an alert in the system,” Reveth said. “Hopefully it’s nothing?”

“Time to go,” Kix growled.

“Yeah,” Maree said, her voice shaky. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

“At least let me download the records,” Reveth argued, jamming a data spike into the console.

They all froze as a distant but unmistakable crash echoed through the base, followed by a rhythmic thumping.

“What is that?” Maree whispered.

“Clankers,” Kix said grimly, drawing his second blaster. “Seal the blast doors.”

“We’ll be trapped in here!” Reveth objected.

Maree stared at Kix. “Can’t we make it out before—”

A light flashed, and her body jerked as a blaster bolt smashed into her. She went down hard, and Kix barely had time to register what was happening before a firestorm of blaster bolts exploded into the room. He whirled back to the entrance and returned fire at the wave of battle droids that was advancing at high speed toward his position. Ithano was firing as fast as he could, but the droids weren’t dropping.

“Get those kriffing doors sealed!” Ithano bellowed.

Reveth had ducked down behind the console for cover as Maree scrambled to join her out of the line of fire. Reveth frantically worked the controls from her position on the floor, but she wasn’t fast enough. A single droid made it through before the doors slammed shut. The clanking and pounding of the army of droids battering against the blast doors was deafening. The lone battle droid charged across the command center.

“Kill it!” Kix shouted. “Fuckin’ kill it!”

Reveth, Ithano, and Kix unleashed a torrent of blaster bolts, but the karking thing wouldn’t go down, even as its components began to fail and fly off its body. It was headed for the console. It was headed toward Maree. Desperately, Kix launched himself at its mangled, skeletal form, tackling it as he locked his arms around and tore its head off with a sickening screech of twisting metal.

But the fucking thing kept moving, shambling toward the console. Kix growled and yanked out his vibroblade, slashing through the droid’s joints until nothing remained but a pile of scrap, and then he sprinted toward Maree, launching himself over the control console. 

“Maree!” Kix yelled hoarsely.

Her face was sweaty and contorted with pain as she clutched her hand around her upper arm, but she gave him a tight smile. “I’m all right.”

The blaster hole in her jacket sleeve was still smoking, and Kix felt sick as he saw blood covering her hand, oozing from a wound that should have been cauterized by the plasma bolt. 

“Let me see,” he ordered. 

She moved her hand, and he cut the sleeve away quickly, adrenaline coursing through his veins. Oh, fuck, it’s bad. It’s bad, and I don’t have my kit.

“We have to get out of here,” Reveth rasped.

Kix dug frantically through his pouches, finding only a few small bacta patches and a vial of spray bandage. He didn’t have a choice. It would have to do, at least until they could make it back to the Stinger. 

He shoved the jacket sleeve and vibroblade toward Reveth. “Cut that into strips. Wide ones.”

He drenched the blaster wound with spray bandage, then grabbed the first strip Reveth cut from the jacket sleeve and quickly tied it around Maree’s arm near her shoulder. “Do you have a stylus on you?”

“Always,” Maree said, her voice tense with pain. She pulled the stylus out of her pocket and handed it to him, carefully avoiding looking at the charred, bloody wound. “Why is it bleeding so much?”

Kix tied the ends of the cloth strip around the stylus and twisted to tighten the makeshift tourniquet, securing it as he replied in an artificially calm tone. “Sometimes it happens. Move just wrong—the cauterized scab opens—blood.”

He ripped open the bacta patches and arranged them carefully over the injury, covering it as well as he could before wrapping the rest of the fabric strips around them to secure them in place. Finally, he looked up into her eyes, inadvertently smearing her own blood on her cheek as he cupped her face.

“I’m not losing you today.” His words were firm, but tremor in his hands was undeniable, and his pulse thundered in his ears.

She smiled at him through dry, ashen lips, and he kissed her forehead, then helped her carefully to her feet. Reveth had pulled up a schematic of the base, and Ithano joined them at the console, pausing to squeeze Kix’s shoulder briefly.

“We don’t die so easily,” the captain said in his deep, rasping voice.

“Not today, anyway,” Reveth cut in. “I found an escape route.”

“Please tell me it’s not the ventilation shaft,” Maree said unsteadily.

“It’s always the ventilation shaft,” Reveth replied.

Maree’s shoulder screamed with agony as she crawled through the ventilation shaft. She gritted her teeth to hold back the whimper of pain that hovered at the base of her throat. The ventilation shaft was filthy and cramped, and their progress was torturously slow as they navigated as silently as possible to their destination. The conduit wouldn’t take them all the way out of the base, so they would have to make a run for the main entrance when they got close. The only way they stood a chance of escaping was to not draw the attention of the battle droids.

She followed Kix through the labyrinthine ductwork, crawling laboriously on her knees and one hand. Her injured arm had burned like fire when Kix first applied the tourniquet, but now her arm was completely numb—and equally useless. At last, they found the access hatch to the main corridor. Kix dropped down first, and then Maree realized exactly how difficult this was going to be with only one functional arm. 

“Just drop,” he whispered. “I’ll catch you.”

She took a deep breath and slid out of the maintenance hatch, feet first. Panic flashed in her mind briefly as she plummeted through the air, but Kix was true to his word, catching her before she could hit the ground. He set her down quickly and checked to make sure her bandage was still in place as first Reveth and then Ithano dropped down into the corridor.

They sprinted for the exit. Maree’s lungs burned and her vision blurred around the edges as she gasped for breath. Kix looked back at her sharply and reached for her hand, dragging her along behind him. By some miracle, the droids hadn’t detected them yet, and she could see the main entrance of the base. She forced herself to keep running, even as she stumbled and nearly went down, kept upright only by Kix’s strong grasp.

He tugged her arm over his shoulder and wrapped his arm around her waist to support her, but he didn’t slow his pace. “We have to keep going, love. We can’t stop now.”

“I know,” she wheezed. “So close…”

She could hear the clanking of droids behind them, and she pushed herself as hard as she ever had in her life to keep running. They cleared the entrance, and Reveth tossed a few magnetized thermal detonators onto the ceiling of the base. 

Keep running, don’t stop, keep going.

The explosion knocked them off their feet, but the rubble of the collapsed ceiling blocked the main entrance. It wouldn’t hold back the droids for long, but it bought them time—so long as they kept moving. Kix was up first, pulling Maree with him as Reveth and Ithano scrambled to their feet.

They ran for the trees as Reveth commed Squeaky. “We need a pickup, now!”

“He can’t get to us in the jungle!” Kix said. “We have to find a clearing where the shuttle can land.”

They dodged through the trees, trying to avoid the worst of the swampy ground, but the dense underbrush slowed their progress and steered them on a circuitous route. Out of the corner of her eye, Maree saw movement in the earth. The ground shifted and began to swell.

“What the kriff is that?” she demanded.

“Keep running, don’t look back,” Kix urged.

“No, what is that?” she repeated.

She saw a flash of pale, bonelike metal alloy, and then a battle droid erupted from the earth.

“Fuck!” she screamed.

All around them, the skeletal forms of B1.5 droids began to emerge from the swampy ground, punching their way to the surface and dragging themselves up from the mud. Kix released Maree and drew both of his blasters, opening fire without hesitation. Maree, Reveth, and Ithano followed suit, for all the good it did them. The droids simply wouldn’t go down; even if they took so many hits that they started to fall apart, they still somehow shambled on in a grotesque parody of their normal precise movement.

They had no choice but to keep running and hope that they could at least slow some of the droids down. She could hear the roar of the shuttle overhead, but the vegetation was too dense for Squeaky to pick them up. The Gamorrean’s indistinct, frantic squealing sounded from Reveth’s comlink.

“He said there’s a clearing about a klick southwest!” Reveth yelled.

It might as well be on the other side of the planet, Maree thought hopelessly. There were simply too many droids; they were advancing relentlessly, and the terrain was too hostile to cross it with any speed. Holy shit, we’re all going to die here.

Her mind darted to the holorecord of the field test—a kriffing gruesome euphemism for such carnage. It had been a complete massacre. The terrified screams of the commandos as the droids tore them to pieces; the spray of blood and viscera: the images were branded irrevocably in her memory. It was a horrific way to die, and they were about to find out firsthand. 

Panic clawed at her, closing her throat and making her shots go wild. Her legs felt sluggish, and her feet became unsteady, but Kix never let her fall, even as he fired ceaselessly at the pursuing droids.

“We’re almost there,” he grunted. “Keep running, sweetheart, you can do it.”

“Kix, go,” Ithano ordered. “Get her to the Stinger.”

“No!” Maree exclaimed. “We’re not leaving you!”

Kix ignored her protests, bending over and tossing her over his shoulder as he ran. His plastoid armor cut into her thighs and belly, and she squirmed to try to get away.

“Put me down! Go back!”

Kix ignored her and raced for the clearing where the shuttle hovered just above the ground, ready to take off as soon as the crew were safely aboard. He dropped Maree in the copilot seat and turned to Squeaky.

“Don’t let her follow me.”

He sprinted to the back of the shuttle and jumped out, making for the treeline.

“Kix!” she screamed, lurching out of her seat.

Squeaky didn’t hesitate. He thrust her back into the chair with a stern grunt, then secured the safety harness to make sure she didn’t try to run again. She could hear blaster fire and shouting outside the ship, and she tugged desperately at the harness. Squeaky grunted again to order her to take control of the ship, and he lumbered toward the rear hatch, blaster ready.

Her heart hammered as she took the controls. Please, please, please. The distraught prayer echoed in her mind, silently beseeching the Force. I can’t lose him. Not like this. She felt utterly helpless as the deafening roar of Squeaky’s blaster fire pounded through the ship. Mercifully, she soon heard the pounding of boots on durasteel, and then Ithano launched into the pilot’s seat and punched the controls, hurtling the shuttle away from the planet.

“Kix?” she asked frantically.

“I’m here,” he said, dropping to his knees next to Maree’s chair and wrapping his arms around her. “I’m here.”

“I’m here, too, thanks for askin’,” Reveth said as she flopped into her seat.

Kix stood and quickly released the safety harness, tugging Maree out of the chair and burying his face against her neck.

“Holy kark, I can’t believe we all made it out,” Reveth said. “I was sure Maree was toast.”

Maree laughed, and Kix glared at the Twi’lek. “Not kriffin’ funny.”

“It’s kinda funny,” Reveth insisted.

Kix shook his head and drew Maree out of the cockpit and back to the tiny med bay at the rear of the shuttle. “Med bay” was putting it generously; it was really just a bunk and a large emergency medkit, but it had everything he needed to treat her shoulder. He administered a stim shot, cleaned and redressed her wound, and removed the tourniquet. He worked efficiently, and she didn’t see any of the distress that had clouded his eyes back at the base—of course, they weren’t fending off a horde of unkillable zombie droids this time, either.

“What’s the verdict, doctor?” she asked with a tiny smile.

He stroked his fingers over her forearm gently. “You’ll live. Gonna have a kickass scar, too.”

“Will you kiss it better?” she asked, fluttering her eyelashes.

He smiled wryly as he leaned in and pressed his lips softly against hers. “Don’t ever do that to me again.”

“I’ll do my best. At least I’m finally going to have an exciting story to tell Baba and Eema.”

His eyes widened. “Oh, kriff, your mothers are going to kill me!”

The Stinger docked with the Meson Martinet first, and Squeaky, Reveth, and Ithano disembarked, then Kix piloted the shuttle to his own ship, the Scorpion. Brenko and Brosna were waiting next to the airlock when Kix and Maree emerged from the shuttle.

“Well, did you find the B1.5s?” Brosna asked.

“Yeah,” Kix replied grimly.

“Ha!” Brosna laughed triumphantly. “Pay up, Captain!”

“You’re still acting captain,” Kix retorted. “Now get your ass back up to the bridge until I relieve you.”

“Wait, you’re not taking command right now?” Brosna asked.

“Nope,” Kix replied, dragging Maree to their quarters.

The door hissed shut behind them, and Kix slapped the control panel to lock it. He was on Maree instantly, devouring her in a searing kiss as he unzipped and pulled off her jacket, carefully avoiding the large bandage on her shoulder. Once he had her top removed, he dropped his mouth to her throat and kissed a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down her body as he knelt in front of her. 

His hands roved over her urgently, clutching her body close to him. She tangled her fingers in his hair as he tugged down her trousers, and then he plunged his tongue into her ravenously. Her body jerked, and she cried out, losing her balance. He caught her with ease, then pulled her toward the bed.

“Kix,” she panted. “Don’t you at least want to get naked?”

“I can’t wait,” he groaned. “Sit on my face.”

“Oh, fuck,” she gasped.

“I’m planning to,” he said, lying on his back. “On my face. Now.”

She knelt, hovering over his mouth, staring down into his eyes. He gazed back up at her, sliding his hands up her waist to cup her breasts, before dropping them to her thighs and yanking her body downward.

“Kriff!” she exclaimed as his tongue slid deeply into her cunt, then his lips closed around her clit.

He held her in place as he feasted on her, his groans vibrating against her sensitive flesh. The sensation was overwhelming. She writhed, nearly toppling over, then leaned back to brace her hands on his ribcage. He ate her like he was starving, like she was the last thing he would ever taste, and he fully intended to savor every drop.

“Kix—fuck—gods—” she moaned, her hips finding a subtle rhythm even as his strong hands gripped her, preventing her from moving more than a few centimeters.

He murmured quietly against her in between the kisses and licks and nibbles—soft, nearly inaudible whispers of fear and adoration and lust. “... taste so fucking good… love you so much… thought I was going to lose you… never letting go… so kriffin’ scared… want you so bad…”

He released her thigh and reached his hand around to massage her clit. All the muscles in her core began to tense as pleasure spooled tightly in her body, but her orgasm remained tantalizingly just out of reach. She leaned back, groping blindly for his cock. She fumbled with his belt and eventually just slid her hand beneath the waistband until she wrapped her fingers around his rigid shaft.

He grunted at the contact, his hips thrusting up off the mattress. His hand strayed away from her clit to press his palm flat against her lower belly, and pressure was exactly what she needed. She convulsed with a sob, and he redoubled his efforts, tongue-fucking her through her orgasm. Distantly, she felt the thrusting of his cock against her hand, and then a rush of hot, sticky cum on her fingers.

She crumpled to the bed, and he pulled her tightly against him, kissing the backs of her thighs as she slowly came back to herself. After a few moments, he shifted, curling up behind her, tucking his thighs behind her legs as he drew her body close to his and buried his face in her hair.

“I love you,” she murmured.

He kissed the side of her neck, just behind her ear, dragging his tongue slowly across her skin as he slid his hand up to play with her breast. “Love you. Never scare me like that again.”

She laughed quietly. “Aye, aye, Cap’n. What’s gotten into you, anyway? You were acting protective before we even left the Martinet.”

He lay silently for a moment, breathing in the scent of her hair, before he replied. “You’re late.”

She blinked. “What?”

“You’re… your cycle, it’s like clockwork. And—you’re late,” he said hoarsely.

She swallowed. “Oh.”

The original comic panel that inspired this story! This was from Star Wars Adventures Ashcan. Alas, this comic was never published, so I am once again filling in the gaps in canon.

ADDITIONAL CONTENT WARNING: mention of possible pregnancy.

[cephalofrog]

yeah you could say that buddy. missed a wholeass bullet wound

day 2 done. I think the biggest struggle so far is in the sheer number of skills. it's extremely hard to know what to put points into until it's too late and the system of skills feels both rigid (you need to pass very specific skill checks to progress with characters, it feels less like you can progress through the game using whatever skills you have and more like it just spreads it out so you need every skill at some point. maybe I'm just doing it wrong though. idk) and unreliable - I wonder if skill checks would feel better if they were a flat number rather than being luck-based? anyway I *barely* got through a couple yellow and blue checks (my lowest two types of skills) and now I've been hit with a legendary logic skill check to progress with the union guys. my logic skill is 0 btw

anyway the worldbuilding continues to get cooler. I learned about the pale and was like wow this is cool as fuck I love worlds where they seem similar to ours at first but then it becomes obvious that they don't follow any of the same fundamental laws of reality. reminds me of rain world's worldbuilding in that regard (guy who has only played rain world moment)

I talked to the smoking balcony guy at the start of day 3 before stopping for the day and managed to succeed at a 25% check to be like "hm... this guy seems a bit fruity". sources I've seen seem to indicate it's possible to kiss kim so I am desperately hoping that the paths I am taking will lead to this outcome (though with how the game is I wouldn't be surprised if I've already messed it up)

ok. I'll play disco elysium

[wishesofeternity]

honestly, from all the changes they’ve made in the show, Aemond accidentally rather than purposefully killing Lucerys is the one that makes the most narrative and thematic sense.

The book is actually quite vague about what happens, which I didn’t realize until I went back and checked. Here:

"The tragedy that befell Lucerys Velaryon at Storm’s End was never planned, on this all of our sources agree."

“But Prince Aemond drew his sword and said, “Hold, Strong. First pay the debt you owe me.” Then he tore off his eye patch and flung it to the floor, to show the sapphire beneath. “You have a knife, just as you did then. Put out your eye, and I will let you leave. One will serve. I would not blind you."

“Outside the storm was raging. Thunder rolled across the castle, the rain fell in blinding sheets, and from time-to-time great bolts of blue-white lightning lit the world as bright as day. It was bad weather for flying, even for a dragon, and Arrax was struggling to stay aloft when Prince Aemond mounted Vhagar and went after him. Had the sky been calm, Prince Lucerys might have been able to outfly his pursuer, for Arrax was younger and swifter…but the day was “as black as Prince Aemond’s heart,” says Mushroom, and so it came to pass that the dragons met above Shipbreaker Bay. Watchers on the castle walls saw distant blasts of flame, and heard a shriek cut the thunder. Then the two beasts were locked together, lightning crackling around them. Vhagar was five times the size of her foe, the hardened survivor of a hundred battles. If there was a fight, it could not have lasted long.”

Basically, we know the words exchanged between the two at Storm’s End, but what actually happened in the storm of the sky is murky and unreliable. Considering this was the historic event that kick-started the war, and considering Aemond’s general temperament and future actions (lots and lots of war crimes) … it makes sense that this is the conclusion history would arrive at, that it would be warped to its most murderous extreme. But the fact is, we don’t know what actually happened. This isn’t a change which spits on established facts of the book, this is a change that fills the blanks of a murky, history-altering moment. So, whether or not you agree with it, there was room for them to experiment.

Further, despite Aemond not actually wanting to kill Lucerys in the show, he is not portrayed in a good light by any means. He wanted an eye for an eye, and he wanted to give it to his mother as a gift. He mounted Vhagar and chased him through a storm, cackling like a 90s disney villain. He was not a victim, he had agency and fully intended on harming Luke. His viciousness is emphasized, as is his rage and pain … but there is a difference between loathing someone, between wanting to hurt them as much as they’ve hurt you, and actually wanting them dead. It’s a subtle line, but it’s one which can be explored, particularly considering how young both of them still are (despite what their actors may make you think, they’re in the same age range). Aemond doesn't know true war! Of course he'd be horrified by its reality, by the complete loss of control.

And the aftermath can be so compelling. Let this be the act that finally pushes Aemond over the edge! Let him realize that he’s crossed a line … and he can keep crossing it, more and more and more, because this is war and who the hell can stop him? Does the line even matter from the sky, on the back of the mightiest creature in the world? It can be a spectacular arc, and it can fit in very well with the events of the book, humanizing a caricatural character and showing his descent into fire and blood … if it’s done right.

Basically, I could come to love this change! I think it's actually very interesting, in isolation. If it was the only the only major "accident" of the show, it would be fantastic. The problem is that, combined with all the other changes they've made, particularly with regards to Rhaenyra and Alicent, it just ends up feeling like yet another cog in the same old pattern where they refuse to let characters be legitimately terrible and unhinged and ferocious and instead woobify and victimize (and in Alicent's case, simultaneously demonize) them instead. THIS particular scenario was different, yes, but when taken together with all the other nonsensical, "oopsie" changes they've made...I'm tired

[thomaslightwood]

Blackthorn Detective Agency - Part 2

Part 1 || Ao3 || Masterlist

This is the KitTy Sherlock AU! (Just changed its name with something more like a fic's title)

It’s set in 1930s, slow burn & will have a few parts!

Words: 3 024

Ty rubbed his fingertips on the frame. It was old, its angels were soft. 

“Peru, 1890,” he read at the bottom of the photo. “This photograph is from more than 40 years ago.”

Which wasn’t unusual for a warlock - they lived for centuries. To keep photos from 40 years ago was logical. But why was this the only thing in this flat that was actually… personal? 

“It's the only personal piece here,” Kit said. Ty almost smiled - they had the exact same thought. “Probably in the whole flat, except the Spanish books.”

“You have a point,” Ty agreed. Between the pages of that book were papers with conjugated verbs in Spanish. Someone had written them there and Ragnor had copied them. That’s why Ty knew this wasn’t Ragnor’s handwriting on the photo. “But this is not his-”

A sharp sound interrupted him. It was the front door. Someone was trying to break it. Not as good at it as Kit, Ty noticed.

They had no time to worry too much. Ty grabbed Kit by the hand, opened the wood door with the other that was still holding the frame and dragged them both inside.

Ty was conscious he overstepped in Kit's personal space but a moment later they heard how the stranger broke the lock and their steps as they came inside.

The room was small and extremely dark. Ty couldn't see anything and he didn't have the space to draw a rune on himself about it. And he actually didn't have his stele in him. The bigger problem - the room was unknown to them. He was worried if they moved too much they'd make noise and would be exposed.

He heard or rather felt how Kit's breath fastened. Was he claustrophobic? Was it a bad idea to bring them in this small room?

Ty heard the slow steps as they were wandering around the room. They were coming dangerously close to the bedroom.

This was probably inappropriate and Ty didn't know if it would help at all but he must try. He carefully raised a hand and hurried it in Kit's hair. He dragged him closer to Ty until Kit's head was in Ty's neck.

He squeezed a little and Kit pressed against Ty. They both hold into each other in the sea of darkness, trying not to lose balance.

Ty was hearing the stranger's step in the room. They murmured something angrily. Ty was barely breathing. If they heard him and Kit in the closet…

A loud shatter interrupted his thoughts. Ty recognized it was a man's voice by the angry murmur. 

For a few more minutes he walked around the apartment, like he… he was searching for something. And he couldn't find it. Eventually the man breathed out heavily and opened the door, not bothering to shut it quietly after himself.

They waited a few more minutes, just to be safe. Then Ty carefully let go of Kit and opened the door. The sudden light hurt his eyes so he squinted for a while to get used to it.

The bed was untouched but Ty couldn't say the same about the living room. There were books on the floor, the table was inverted.

“He was searching for something,” Kit quietly said as he carefully grabbed a book from the floor. Was Ty imagining it or his face was a little flushed?

“Yes,” Ty agreed. He was still holding the frame with the photo. “But what? Could it possibly be this?” He handed the frame to Kit.

Kit took it and shrugged. “Maybe. But why is one old photo important?”

More questions. Even though they were in the very beginning and everything was unclear, Ty felt the thrill every new case evoked in him. The burning curiosity that tickled his insides, the thirst to know everything about the subject.

“I think we should go,” Kit said. He took the photo off the frame and put it in the pocket of his coat. “They may return or a neighbor heard the noise.”

Kit had a point, Ty thought but there was something that made him feel uneasy.

Kit was heading for the door but Ty slowed down before leaving the flat. He looked around once more. The books on the floor, the almost empty shelves and the open door to the bedroom. Ty grabbed one list with Spanish verbs and closed the door after himself.

      After this they went to the train station. It was surprisingly hard to find the schedule for the trains from a few days ago.

The guy they talked with wasn't happy about it. Kit could see he just wanted to enjoy his lunch. And probably was tempted to call the security to throw them out. 

But then Ty pulled out cash and the man was suddenly more friendly.

Ty didn't talk much nor did he look man in the eyes. Kit was feeling like he just wanted to get the information as fast as possible.

After the man was gone for a few minutes he returned with paper with what they asked for.

“Thank you very much,” Kit said as Ty put the list in the inside of his coat. “We appreciate your help.”

The man murmured something and sat heavily on his chair, finally able to eat.

“That was smart,” Ty said as they came out on the street, waiting to catch a taxi. 

“What?” Kit asked.

“To ask for the people who worked on the train that day. I didn't think about it.”

“It's nothing, really. I was just thinking about what I can do to help yesterday.”

The truth was Kit just wanted to be useful. Part of him was afraid if Ty noticed Kit wasn't doing anything he would fire him. He probably wasn't as good as Sherlock but he could understand how a criminal thinks. What they may have missed.

“I assume you already know because you're good at what you do, but,” Kit said. “People are important. They witness, tell, see and do crimes. They... they are the driving machine. Evidence is important but a person is the key. So I just thought about what people we can talk with.”

There was something thoughtful in Ty's expression as he watched Kit's cheek. “I'm not quite sure I agree.”

Before Kit could answer, a taxi stopped in front of them. 

As soon as Ty told the driver the direction, Kit said “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why don't you agree with me?”

“Well,” Ty said and the thoughtful look returned on his face. “It's true a person is the subject that commits the crime. But people… they are not what they appear to be. They're often hard to understand and you can't be sure who they are. They lie. And have inaccurate memories and sometimes are too afraid to tell the truth and to help. What I'm trying to say is that they're too often an unreliable source. While evidence… it's unchangeable on its own. Oneself is true to the very end. It's up to you to interpret how it fits in the whole picture. If it's wrong, it's your mistake. You're the only one to blame. While a person's words… you can't control that. Or trust it enough to interpret it rightfully.“

Ty stopped for a second, looking outside the taxi's window.

“What I'm trying to say is that a person can mislead you. Evidence never does.”

Kit was silent. The taxi pulled over in front of a small cafe, nestled between two clothing shops. Taki's Diner .

Kit remembered this was the name of the place Katarina and Ragnor met.

“We are going to question the employees?”

“Not quite,” Ty said simply and headed towards the restaurant. Kit followed, curiously looking at the surroundings.

There weren't many people. It was still early and most of them seemed sleepy. There were Downworlders as well as mundanes. Kit spotted a warlock with fully orange eyes flirting with a pale girl, probably a vampire.

There was also a mundane man who was reading a newspaper and murmured something to himself.

Ty headed at one table on the back, a bit hidden from the rest. The tables around it were empty. From the radio quietly came a Louis Armstrong's song. Kit smiled at that. He loved jazz.

Ty and Kit sat on the table. Kit took off his coat and cap.

A faerie waitress appeared in front of them and smiled. She was a short blonde who had two many bracelets on her arms.

“Hello gentlemen,” she smiled at them. “Here are your menus - look at it, choose a meal and I'll come to take your order.”

“Thank you,” Kit smiled at her. She winked in return and headed towards another table.

He returned his eyes on Ty. He had taken off his coat. It was carefully placed on the third chair on the table. He was looking around the cafe, touching the corners of his menu.

“If we're not here to interview the staff,” Kit said. “What are we here for?”

“To watch,” Ty said simply. “Observe. Talk with the regular clients.”

Kit looked around again, looking for something else this time. A woman who Kit immediately recognized as faerie sat on a table, crossed her legs and took out a book from her bag.

The waitress returned after a few minutes.

“Are you ready?” She had a notebook and pencil in her hands.

Kit hesitated. He didn't want to spend too much money but nothing here was too expensive.

“Onion omelet for me.” 

“Chipped potatoes please.”

She hurriedly wrote their orders down and smiled again. “Is that all?”

“Yes, thank you,” Ty said.

“Actually,” Kit said suddenly. Ty quickly looked at him but didn't say anything. He looked at the waitress pin with her name. “Nancy, right? My friend and I were wondering about something and it would be amazing if you can help us.”

“Of course,” she said and curiosity burned in her eyes. They were very blue.

“We thought a friend of ours arrived in the city a few days ago. He tends to like this place and we were wondering if he was here a few days ago perhaps?”

“What is he like?” she asked.

Kit took out the photo from Peru of Ragnor and his friends. 

She took and Kit could see on her face she recognized someone in the photo. She nodded enthusiastically.

“I have seen two of these people! The man with the white hair. He was here around three days ago with the woman.”

“Can you tell us something… unusual you noticed about them?”

The waitress - Nancy - shrugged.

“The usual warlocks. They stayed for an hour or two and then left. At the end of my shift he returned though.”

“Really?” Kit said casually, like he was merely curious for a friend. “Was he alone?” Then he leaned forward a little and said more quietly with a playful smile. “We suspect he may hide a lover from us.”

The faerie chuckled. “I don't know sweetheart. When I was leaving he just sat on a table. I left before seeing anything. You can ask my friend Lizzy. She was the one who took his order.”

“Oh. When can we find her?” Kit asked. 

“She starts at 11 p.m. Earlier if it's cloudy.”

She must be a vampire , Kit thought.

“Thank you so much,” Kit smiled at her one more time. “We deeply appreciate it.”

“You're welcome,” she chuckled again and left them alone.

Kit turned to Ty and caught him watching him.

“You see?”

Ty looked confused. “See what?”

“People are useful. You need witnesses.”

Unexpectedly, Ty smiled. It warmed up something in Kit's chest.

“I have never said I don't.”

“But you hinted at it.”

“I did not,” Ty said. Without taking his eyes off Kit he reached to his coat and pulled off his notebook. “I stated that people are often misleading.”

“But when I said people are important for a case, you said you're not sure you agree.”

“You also said a person is the key. With which I'm not sure I agree. I didn't say a person can't or isn't important.”

Kit exhaled. Damn , he thought. He is good.

“Good. You win. This time.”

Ty shook his head with a smile. He started to write something on the open notebook in front of him. Probably the information the faerie told them.

After a few minutes their meals arrived. Onion omelet and chipped potatoes. Ty barely looked at his food. At some point he finished writing and took the fork for the potatoes.

“So,” Kit said after swallowing a bite from the omelet. “If you're Sherlock Holmes then who am I?”

“What do you mean?” Ty glanced at him.

“Well,” Kit slowly cut out another bite from his food. “You and Livvy are a team. And you're Sherlock. I can't be a Sherlock with you. I'm not her. So I probably need another name.” 

“Good point,” Ty said. He looked thoughtful while he chewed. “How do you wanna be called then?”

Kit was caught off guard a little. He expected Ty to dismiss it or leave it for later.

“I haven't thought about it,” Kit admitted and slowly moved an omelet piece from one side of the plate to the other.

“We can think about it later,” Ty said. “My sister can help us with that.”

“You mean Livvy?”

“No,” Ty said, looking around the restaurant. “My other sister, Dru.”

Kit blinked at him. “How many siblings do you have?”

“Three sisters and three brothers,” Ty said and took a potato piece in his mouth.

“Whoa,” Kit said, forgetting the food in front of him. “Big family.”

“Indeed.”

Kit wondered what it would be like to have so many relatives. So many brothers and sisters. People close to you, to thrust, to be sure they would have your back. 

His father's voice rang in his head. And more people to run away with. Harder to get away. Harder to live with.

The food's taste in Kit's mouth turned into ash. He lost his appetite. Carefully left on the fork and the knife in the plate. 

Ty didn't seem to notice Kit's inner thought for which he was glad.

“The woman,” Ty said quietly. “The one faerie that sat after we came. She's a regular.”

“How would you know?” unconsciously, Kit leaned forward to hear what Ty had to say.

“Nancy, the waitress, didn’t ask her for her order. She even didn’t give her a menu. She directly put a coffee and a muffin in front of her. And the woman called Nancy by name - they know each other.”

“Impressive,” Kit murmured inattentively. “So, you want to talk with her?”

“Well,” Ty shrugged. “A few minutes ago - yes. Now, when we know Ragnor was here at nighttime, at the end of Nancy’s shift, I’m not sure she’d be useful.”

Kit rose up. “Let's find out.”

After a few minutes in which Kit started a conversation with her about borrowing the salt, he returned to their table with a salt shaker. He signed, disappointed.

“Nothing,” Kit said. “She had no idea what I'm talking about. And thought I'm just flirting with her.” 

“Were you?”

“What?” Kit blinked.

“Flirting with her,” Ty said, not taking his eyes off the notebook in front of him.

“Well,” Kit felt a little uncomfortable. “Yes, I kind of did. But it was just for the sake of the case. I'm not… interested in her that way.” 

Ty glanced at Kit's face for a few seconds then returned to writing in his notebook. Kit didn't notice. He was suddenly anxious that Ty would think of him as a flirting careless man. 

“Sometimes,” Kit started, carefully picking his words. “I flirt with people to get what I want. When I was in my early teens - to get away with something.”

Ty curiously gave him a glance.

“Did you have to do it often?”

“Well,” Kit said thoughtfully. “No, no that often. But I did it anyway. I… I think I liked to give strangers pieces of me that are… safe to give. And gender doesn't matter to me anyway.” Nothing too personal. Nothing long. Only a flirt, a few minutes of other people's time. The only kind of relationship Kit could afford.

“I can see why people like you,” Ty said, rolling the pen in his hands. “You're a rather charming man.”

Kit couldn't help but laugh.

Ty frowned.

“Did I say something out of place?”

Kit shook his head. “No, no. It's just that I don't think I'm charming. Or that people like me . ”

"Charm" was an abstract idea for him. He may pass for good looking but he didn't think of himself as "charming". Charm meant power. It attracted people to you. It made them like you. 

Kit didn't make people like him. He let them make an idea for him in their heads and allowed them to believe it. This wasn't a charm. It was lying.

Ty arched an eyebrow.

“Well. I would say I like you,” then he returned his gaze back at his notebook, adding something to the already written text.

His words caught Kit completely off-guard. He was holding his fork and it just levitated in space. 

Kit didn't know how to react. No one before had said something like that to him. He knew Ty probably said it to make him feel better. But something made him think Ty Blackthorn didn't say things he doesn't mean.

“Anyway,” Ty said and closed his notebook. “We're done here.”

“Really? What about questioning the waitress Lizzy?”

“We will return here after sunset for this,” Ty said. “But now we can do something more useful with our time.”

Kit felt dread in his stomach. He couldn't stay after dark. Or could he? Would his father notice? He always did. 

Should he tell Ty? No, no, he was going to figure something out.

“What are we going to do now?” he asked, hoping Ty didn't notice anything strange.

He looked at the watch on his hand.

“We will meet my sister. Dru.”

To be continued...

[aikoiya]

Dude... You know what'd be cool? The House of Mouse appearing in Mickey's Kingdom. Which would sort of act as a sort of lounge/ entertainment hub for the few people who are aware of & able to go to other worlds & just chill & watch movies & eat dinner & listen to bands.

And then, Ossy's introduced as a sort of vice host in case Mickey is called away on a mission, but not one that requires 2 kings!

Also, I saw your post about Wish & I gotta be honest. I'm very disappointed that Wish didn't go with Starboy. And despite me wishing that there were some of the old villain types.

I just don't think Magnifico fits the role. Rather, I think he had the makings of a Fallen Hero turned Villain Had a Point, possibly even Jackass With a Point. He's a narcissist, but he was ultimately right.

If Magnifico allowed every wish to be granted, then pandemonium!

See "Bruce Almighty" for an example.

Though, you know what would've been more interesting?

If Asha was Magnifico & Amaya's daughter. And they were a "villain" power couple? One that was utterly in love. Like Morticia & Gomez in love.

Maybe start the movie from entirely Asha's perspective, with her learning that her father didn't intend to grant all the wishes, but as the movie progresses, the media literate viewer comes to realize that Asha is an unreliable narrator. One who is naive. And one who is stubborn.

And, a cut would be taken to show us Magnifico having a narcissistic villain song. A better one, one that as it progresses, the atmosphere & lyrics & expressions reveal more elements of paranoia, fear, & bitterness, for it turns out that he'd once been every bit as optimistic as Asha, only for his actions, that had been intended in hope & delivering happiness, to result in... At which point, he quiets, bravado gone, ego gone, a sudden change in music to something more mournful as he stares at the tapestry, long & hard. At the sight of his mother (I now hc her to have been the Blue Fairy from Pinocchio) to the source of his greatest shame.

Then, his wife comes up behind him & embraces him. And for just a moment, Magnifico's eyes & shoulders slowly droop, his continence nothing but sadness as he shakes a bit. No tears leave his eyes, but they are glassy & the vulnerability & trust he's showcasing to her is obvious.

Turns out that under all the boasting, he's just so worried that Asha was going to get hurt.

Amaya: "You know, she had a point, right?"

Magnifico makes a sassy grimace, rolling his eyes, but admitting that, "Yes, I know. Too smart, that girl... And optimistically naive! Which is an extremely dangerous combination! One we both know all too well the consequences of."

He suddenly shows signs of fretting, he knew wishing fairies quite well, but had only read about starpeople in books & heard stories from his mother. A powerful unknown near his baby girl?! He was slowly coming to pieces inside. What if it granted harmful wishes. What if they hurt his daughter???

Magnifico: "How could her desire to grate everyone's wish be so strong that it literally calls upon a starperson?!? How does she not realize that a wish granted isn't just a wish granted? It's something enacted upon the world, which will affect more than just the wisher. It'll affect everyone that's near!"

Amaya: "You have to admit, she gets those self-absorbed tendencies from you."

Magnifico gives a bemused smile & rolls his eyes before reminding his beloved that Asha got her stubborn streak from Amaya, which she did not deny.

They press their foreheads together, eyes closed for a moment, then Magnifico opens his, looks her dead in the eye, & tells his wife, " I love you so much. I don't think I could've done any of this without you."

To which, Amaya gives a watery smile & presses a chaste kiss to his lips, which makes him smile. He then wraps his arms around her tenderly. But a moment before cutting away, we see his eyes open to look off into the distance out of a window in the direction of where he feels the wishing magic of the starperson. Gaze filled with worry.

---

Anyway, maybe the reason Starboy comes down isn't because he wants to just make animals talk, but to try to reason with Asha because, much like Magnifico, he understands how dangerous wishes can be.

Or, perhaps he's still a very new star to the job with a similar desire to Asha's & he hasn't learned those dangers yet either?

Anyway, during the course of the movie, Starboy slowly becomes a character who helps to reign in Asha's more... impulsive side.

(No evil book here. Felt too much like a cop-out.)

However, when everyone gets their wishes back, Magnifico gets frustrated & angry.

Then he literally goes, "Fine. Have it your way."

He then bestowed temporary wish granting duty upon Asha. Her aid will be Starboy. He says that they may grant whatever wish they desire while Magnifico & Amaya go on vacation. Because they haven't gotten one since their honeymoon & it'd be nice to have a chance to really spend quality time together now that Asha is obviously so much smarter & wiser & better at understanding how granting wishes works than him who has been doing so for going on 30 something years. (Sarcasm fully intended.)

It ends about as well as one could guess, but the Royal Pair didn't actually go too terribly far. Still close enough to be able to see what was happening inside through a telescope.

So, when it went full-on Bruce Allmighty, Magnifico stepped back in & cleared things up. Luckily, he made sure to get there in time before anyone would lose their lives... but people still got hurt. Some... very badly.

When the four of them were finally alone in the castle. Asha expecting a lecture.

Magnifico: "I will admit. I can be narcissistic & egotistical & often harsh & controlling & paranoid. I acknowledge that these things can make me come across as a villain, but that doesn't mean that I am one, nor does it mean that I am wrong. I granted so few wishes for a very good reason, as you now have personal experience with."

Asha droops, feeling both guilty & shattered by her deepest wish, having been so thoroughly turned to ash before her eyes. Silent tears making lines in the ash upon her cheeks.

Magnifico: "... as have I..."

He says this with a deep, bone weary sigh.

Magnifico: "The story about the bandits... was a lie I told others... & myself... to mask my guilt..."

He turns back to his daughter & the Starboy.

Magnifico: "There... were no bandits... I was ultimately responsible for my village's destruction. Because I tried to grant the wish of every person living there &... nearly everyone died because of it..."

Magnifico: "I... I should've told you sooner. Should've taught you these things, but I didn't want to acknowledge it & I didn't want you to have the burden. Perhaps if I had, then this would not have happened. I am..." Swallows heavily, "s-so-rry for that..."

The word of apology coming out strangled.

Magnifico: "But, I didn't have someone there to stop things from going too far like you did today, Asha. The only one who could have, left before I'd even begun my magical studies. But I will say that you had a point in regards to giving the wishes I shouldn't grant back to their owners. I was just... paranoid..."

A/N: I'm tired. I think I'll turn this to a full post later.

I forgot that the USB that I use for my modded Wii U is the slowest little flash drive on planet Earth.

Had to install my backup copy of Epic Mickey Two to it because I cannot for the life of me find the legit Wii U disc that I ripped it from and I'm not going to bed without Oswald x Ortensia shenanigans

The game is 8GB

It's been copying from my computer to the flash drive for thirty minutes.

[prince-liest]

#7 and #20!!

From this ask meme! Thank you very much!! <3

7) What do you think are the characteristics of your personal writing style? Would others agree?

Uhhh - god, that’s a toughie. My best friend from middle school (Mido) once described my writing as ‘tongue in cheek’ and I’ve literally identified with that ever since. At the same time, I think I tend to write quite viscerally, and with a lot of things unsaid but strongly indicated to allow readers to extrapolate on their own (or not!) I’m not sure if others agree, but I’d love to hear what you guys think my writing style characteristics are! I’m very curious, actually.

20) Tell us the meta about your writing that you really want to ramble to people about (symbolism you’ve included, character or relationship development that you love, hidden references, callbacks or clues for future scenes?)

Confession: This is a hard one to do because most things I want to ramble about, I just... do, haha! That said, I really love Blue, one of the antagonists from Damocles, and I’m always curious about how many of her scenes people truly understood what was happening. All of Hawks’s narration around her is extremely unreliable due to the nature of her quirk, which was incredibly fun to play with. Major Damocles spoilers ahead for anyone who hasn’t read it.

I felt very big-brained making her put Forget-Me-Nots in her hair, but... that’s not just because of her quirk's actual power, it’s because (though this was never explored in the fic), she’s an orphan with some serious codependency issues because her quirk manifesting caused her parents to completely forget she existed and many subsequent activations have lost her close relationships. Her quirk isn’t very controlled: Every time she uses it, everybody completely forgets about her. Everybody. She has some workarounds with Scissorhands revolving around safe signals that are distanced enough from Blue that Scissorhands will remember them, but the closeness of their relationship once she used her quirk? Utterly gone.

She is the one who masterminded the final attack on him in Damocles, and that is because she is so bitterly upset that he forced her into using her quirk to escape him. It’s a pretty significant source of trauma for her. She’s also like sixteen, so. Very bad time to lose your whole support system.

[athomeinmybooks]

Laws of Anime

Version 6.2

Compiled and Edited by - Ryan Shellito and Darrin Bright

Slightly Altered by - Dexyuo Metallium

The Laws of Anime is a growing list of physical, universal, and natural phenomenon that seem to appear in various forms in all sorts of anime. The original intent was an effort to classify these incidents into a list of "laws" that explained how Anime physics are different from our own (real?) world. Due to the rather dynamic nature of Anime Science, theories and paradigms are generally in a state of constant flux, often shifting or changing with the tide of whimsy. By no means all-inclusive and sometimes not even remotely instructive, the following is an enumerated list of semi-empirical islands in an ocean of conjecture. It is our hope that you find them useful to studying Anime, or at the very least, worth a good chuckle.

#1 - Law of Metaphysical Irregularity:

The normal laws of physics do not apply.

#2 - Law of Differentiated Gravitation:

Whenever someone or something jumps, is thrown, or otherwise is rendered airborne, gravity is reduced by a factor of 4.

#3 - Law of Sonic Amplification, First Law of Anime Acoustics:

In space, loud sounds, like explosions, are even louder because there is no air to get in the way.

#4 - Law of Constant Thrust, First Law of Anime Motion:

In space, constant thrust equals constant velocity.

#5 - Law of Mechanical Mobility, Second Law of Anime Motion:

The larger a mechanical device is, the faster it moves. Armored Mecha are the fastest objects known to human science.

#6 - Law of Temporal Variability:

Time is not a constant. Time stops for the hero whenever he does something 'cool' or 'impressive'. Time slows down when friends and lovers are being killed and speeds up whenever there is a fight.

#7 - First Law of Temporal Mortality:

'Good Guys' and 'Bad Guys' both die in one of two ways - either so quick they don't even see it coming, OR it's a long drawn out affair where the character gains much insight to the workings of society, human existence or why the toast always lands butter side down.

#8 - Second Law of Temporal Mortality:

It takes some time for bad guys to die... regardless of physical damage. Even when the 'Bad Guys' are killed so quickly they didn't even see it coming, it takes them a while to realize they are dead. This is attributed to the belief that being evil damages the Reality Lobe of the brain.

#9 - Law of Dramatic Emphasis:

Scenes involving extreme amounts of action are depicted with either still frames or black screens with a slash of bright color (usually red or white).

#10 - Law of Dramatic Multiplicity:

Scenes that only happen once, for instance, a 'Good Guy' kicks the 'Bad Guy' in the face, are seen at least 3 times from 3 different angles.

#11 - Law of Inherent Combustibility:

Everything explodes. Everything.

First Corollary  - Anything that explodes bulges first.

Second Corollary  - Large cities are the most explosive substances known to human science. Tokyo in particular seems to be the most unstable of these cities, sometimes referred to as "The Matchstick City".

#12 - Law of Phlogistatic Emission:

Nearly all things emit light from fatal wounds.

#13 - Law of Energetic Emission:

There is always an energy build up (commonly referred to as an energy 'bulge') before Mecha or space craft weapons fire. Because of the explosive qualities of weapons, it is believed that this is related to the Law of Inherent Combustibility.

#14 - Law of Inverse Lethal Magnitude:

The destructive potential of any object/organism is inversely proportional to its mass. First Corollary - Small and cute will always overcome big and ugly. Also known as the A-Ko phenomenon.

#15 - Law of Inexhaustibility:

No one *EVER* runs out of ammunition. That is of course unless they are cornered, out-numbered, out-classed, and unconscious, (or if they happen to be Trowa Barton.   -- added by Dexyuo-kun).

#16 - Law of Inverse Accuracy:

The accuracy of a 'Good Guy' when operating any form of fire-arm increases as the difficulty of the shot increases. The accuracy of the 'Bad Guys' when operating fire-arms decreases when the difficulty of the shot decreases. (Also known as the Storm trooper Effect) Example: A 'Good Guy' in a drunken stupor being held upside down from a moving vehicle will always hit, and several battalions of 'Bad Guys' firing on a 'Good Guy' standing alone in the middle of an open field will always miss.

First Corollary - The more 'Bad Guys' there are, the less likely they will hit anyone or do any real damage.

Second Corollary  - Whenever a 'Good Guy' is faced with insurmountable odds, the 'Bad Guys' line up in neat rows, allowing the hero to take them all out with a single burst of automatic fire and then escape.

Third Corollary  -Whenever a 'Good Guy' is actually hit by enemy fire, it is in a designated 'Good Guy Area', usually a flesh wound in the shoulder or arm, which restricts the 'Good Guy' from doing anything more strenuous than driving, firing weaponry, using melee weapons, operating heavy machinery, or doing complex martial arts maneuvers.

#17 - Law of Transient Romantic Unreliability:

Minmei is a bimbo.

#18 - Law of Hemoglobin Capacity:

The human body contains over 12 gallons of blood, sometimes more, under high pressure.

#19 - Law of Demonic Consistency:

Demons and other supernatural creatures have at least three eyes, loads of fangs, tend to be yellow-green or brown, but black is not unknown, and can only be hurt bladed weapons.

#20 - Law of Militaristic Unreliability:

Huge galaxy-wide armadas, entire armies, and large war machines full of cruel, heartless, bloodthirsty warriors can be stopped and defeated with a single insignificant example of a caring/loving emotion or a song.

First Corollary  - Whenever a single war machine (mecha, starship, etc.) goes up against an entire army, the army always loses.

#21 - Law of Tactical Unreliability:

  Tactical geniuses aren't....

#22 - Law of Inconsequential Undetectability:

People never notice the little things... like missing body parts, or wounds the size of Seattle.

#23 - Law of Juvenile Intellectuality:

Children are smarter than adults. And almost always twice as annoying.

#24 - Law of Americanthropomorphism:

Americans in Anime appear in one of two roles, either as a really nasty skinny 'Bad Guy' or a big stupid 'Good Guy'.

First Corollary  - The only people who are more stupid than the big dumb Americans are the American translators. (Sometimes referred to as the Green Line Effect)

Second Corollary  - The only people who are more stupid than the American translators are the American editors and censors.

#25 - Law of Mandibular Proportionality:

(from A. Hicks, Tom Williams, and Ben Leinweber)

The size of a person's mouth is directly proportional to the volume at which they are speaking or eating.

#26 - Law of Feline Mutation:

(from A. Hicks)

Any half-cat/half-human mutation will invariably:

1) be female

2) will possess ears and sometimes a tail as a genetic mutation

3) wear as little clothing as possible, if any

#27 - Law of Conservation of Firepower:

(from Tom Williams)

Any powerful weapon capable of destroying/defeating an opponent in a single shot will invariably be reserved and used only as a last resort.

#28 - Law of Technological User-Benevolence:

(from Tom Williams)

The formal training required to operate a spaceship or mecha is inversely proportional to its complexity.

#29 - Law of Melee Luminescence:

(from Tom Williams)

Any being displaying extremely high levels of martial arts prowess and/or violent emotions emits light in the form of a glowing aura. This aura is usually blue for 'good guys' and red for 'bad guys'. This is attributed to Good being higher in the electromagnetic spectrum than Evil.

#30 - Law of Non-Anthropomorphic Antagonism:

(from Tom Williams)

All ugly, non-humanoid alien races are hostile, and usually hell-bent on destroying humanity for some obscure reason.

#31 - Law of Follicular Chromatic Variability:

(from Spellweaver)

Any color in the visible spectrum is considered a natural hair color. This color can change without warning or explanation.

#32 - Law of Follicular Permanence:

Hair in anime is pretty much indestructable, and can resist any amount of meteorological conditions, energy emissions, physical abuse, or explosive effects and still look perfect. The only way to hurt someone's hair is the same way you deal with demons... with bladed weapons!

#33 - Law of Topological Aerodynamics, First Law of Anime Aero-Dynamics:

*ANY* shape, no matter how convoluted or odd-looking, is automatically aerodynamic.

#34 - Law of Probable Attire:

(from various sources)

Clothing in anime follows certain predictable guidelines.

Female characters wear as little clothing as possible, regardless of whether it is socially or meteorologically appropriate. Any female with an excessive amount of clothing will invariably have her clothes ripped to shreds or torn off somehow. If there is no opportunity to tear off the afore-mentioned female's clothes, then she will inexplicably take a shower for no apparent reason (also known as the Gratuitous Shower Scene).

Whenever there is a headwind, Male characters invariably wear a long cloaks that don't hamper movement and billow out dramatically behind them.

First Corollary (Cryo-Adaptability) - All anime characters are resistant to extremely cold temperatures, and do not need to wear heavy or warm clothing in snow.

Second Corollary (Indecent Invulnerability) - Bikinis render the wearer invulnerable to any form of damage.

#35 - Law of Musical Omnipotence:

Any character capable of musical talent (singing, playing an instrument, etc.) is automatically capable of doing much more "simple" things, like piloting mecha, fighting crime, stopping an intergalactic war, and so on...especially if they have never attempted these things before.

#36 - Law of Quintupular Agglutination:

(from Daniel Mikula)

Also called "The Five-man Rule", when "Good Guys" group together, it tends to be in groups of five. There are five basic positions, which are:

1) The Hero/Leader

2) His Girlfriend

3) His Best Friend/Rival

4) A Hulking Brute

5) A Dwarf/Kid

Between these basic positions are distributed several attributes, which include:

1) Extreme Coolness

2) Amazing Intelligence

3) Incredible Irritation

#37 - Law of Extradimensional Capacitance:

(from Jason Bustard)

All anime females have an extradimensional storage space of variable volume somewhere on their person from which they can instantly retrieve any object at a moment's notice.

First Corollary (a.k.a. The Hammer Rule) - The most common item stored is a heavy mallet, which can be used with unerring accuracy on any male who deserves it. Other common items include costumes/uniforms, power suits/armor, and large bazookas.

#38 - Law of Hydrostatic Emission:

Eyes tend to be rather large in Anime. This is because they contain several gallons of water, which may be instantaneously released at high pressure through large tear ducts. The actual volume of water contained in the eyes is unknown, as there is no evidence to suggest that these reservoirs are actually capable of running out. The reason water tends to collect in the eyes is because Anime characters only have one large sweat gland, which is located at the back of the head. When extremely stressed, embarrassed, or worried, this sweat gland exudes a single but very large drop of sebaceous fluid.

#39 - Law of Inverse Attraction:

Success at finding suitable mates is inversely proportionate to how desperately you want to be successful. The more you want, the less you get, and vice versa.

First Corollary - Unfortunately, this law seems to apply to Otaku in the real world...

#40 - Law of Nasal Sanguination:

(from Ryan Pritchard and Jason Aylen)

When sexually aroused, males in Anime don't get erections, they get nosebleeds. No one's sure why this is, though... the current theory suggests that larger eyes means smaller sinuses and thinner sinus tissue (see Law #38 above). Females don't get nosebleeds, but invariably get one heck of a blush along the cheeks and across the nose, suggesting a lot of bloodflow to that region.

#41 - Law of Xylolaceration:

(from Lyndon Harris)

Wooden or bamboo swords are just as sharp as metal swords, if not sharper.

#42 - Law of Juvenile Omnipotence:

(from Erin Alia)

Always send a boy to do a man's job. He'll get it done in half the time and twice the angst.

#43 - Law of Triscaquadrodecophobia:

There is no Law #43.

#44 - Law of Nominative Clamovocation

(from Luiko-Ysabeth and Adrian Hsiah)

The likelihood of success and damage done by a martial arts attack is directly proportional to the volume at which the full name of the attack is announced.

#45 - Law of Uninteruptable Metamorphosis:

(from R. A. Hubby)

Regardless of how long or involved the transformation sequence or how many times they've seen it before, any 'Bad Guys' witnessing a mecha/hero/heroine transforming are too stunned to do anything to interrupt it.

#46 - Law of Flimsy Incognition:

(from Conrad Knauer)

Simply changing into a costume or wearing a teensy mask can make you utterly unrecognizable to even your closest friends and relatives.

#47 - Law of Gravitational Consequence of Velocity on Mammary Glands:

(from Dexyuo-kun)

Any woman's breasts in anime, no matter how clothed or unclothed the woman may be, her breasts have the potential to bounce at least five times every time she moves. Wheather she jumps from a building, runs away from a bad guy, or transforms into her costume or teensy mask (see Law #46 - Law of Flimsy Incognition and Law #34 - Law of Probable Attire).

#48 - Law of the Death Monolouge:

(from Dexyuo-kun)

Believed to be related to the First Law of Temporal Mortality, any character who doesn't die within seconds will ultimately have to give a drawn out monolouge. The character may be a 'Good Guy' who must, very calmly, tell everyone present what they need to do to be able to win the fight against the 'Bad Guys'. This is also used to snap 'Good Guys' out of a trance (also known as the Trowa Barton 90-Second Monolouge). Or, the character may be a 'Bad Guy' who must, through tears, tell everyone present their heartbreaking story of why they became a 'Bad Guy'.

#49 - Law of Providential Endings:

(from Dexyuo-kun)

This law states that in any Anime, no matter how horrible or angsty the Anime might be, has a happy ending. This law ultimately exculdes any and all CLAMP productions.

First Corollary - One of the heros' is wounded (ie. stabbed) and the series ends. Yet, they must always have a sequel to the season, so that it may be known that the injured hero did indeed live at the end, regardless of being wounded horribly. This also applies to any 'Bad Guys' turned 'Good Guys'. They will ultimately live.

#50 - Law of Invariable Coupling:

(from Dexyuo-kun)

The hero of the story must always have a love intrest. The hero of the story must always save their love intrest, possibly multiple times. There will always be a conflict between the hero and their love intrest, wheather it be it an annoying blonde, blue eyed princess who has a tendency to yell out the hero's name and scream for him to come kill her, or a war, there will *always* be a conflict between the hero and their love intrest.

[gingerandwry]

Memphis, Tennessee

My first night in Memphis I settled into my AirBnB-- a large ground floor of a duplex decked out in music-related imagery, furniture and knick-knacks-- then drove downtown for a late dinner at Belle Tavern, a newish upscale Southern restaurant and bar. The restaurant was closed (which saved me some money) so I ate off the bar menu and chatted with the friendly staff. That night I enjoyed the biggest, longest thunderstorm I’ve ever witnessed-- from the comfort of my bed.

On my last visit to Memphis I did most of the interesting things here so I decided to use this time to catch up on this blog, The Economist, my Portuguese lessons, travel planning and exercise. On my first day I finally left at 1pm and headed to Gus’s for their world-famous friend chicken. It does not disappoint. Then I headed to the National Civil Rights Museum which I had been sad to miss last time.

It’s housed in the former Lorraine Motel, where Dr. King was shot. When it opened in 1991 it was the country’s first civil rights museum (and it’s affiliated with the Smithsonian, which is how it became “National”). The museums I had just seen in Birmingham and Jackson are considerably newer and are in states that witnessed a lot more action in the struggle. (Tennessee was also a Jim Crow state but its racists were apparently less murderous.) The experience is heavy from the start. As you approach the highly recognizable motel, you see a wreath hanging on the balcony where Dr. King was felled. A plaque then directs your eyes to a run-down brick building across the street and the window in the former boarding house from which James Earl Ray fired the bullet (allegedly-- more on that later). After a deep breath, I entered the building.

This museum stands out from the others I visited in two main ways. First its focus is national, not on a specific state. Second, it’s arranged not chronologically but episodically. So after introductory sections on slavery, Plessy and Jim Crow, each room tells the story of a notable episode during the struggle: Brown, Rosa Parks, Freedom Rides, Bombingham, lunch counter sit-ins, March on Washington, etc. At first I didn’t like this, as I thought, one, it would glamorize certain people and events while ignoring the “foot soldiers; and two, the historical timeline would become confused thus lessening the impact. The first concern was unfounded as the display were extremely detailed and thorough. And the non-sequential approach ends up also having merits; visitors can fully immerse themselves in the parts without getting lost trying to piece them together. The only problem is the crowds (which a sign in the lobby warned about). I ended up sandwiched between a tour group and a high school group and so scurried through some areas I would have liked to explore more. In part the museum design is to blame-- it’s confined to the original small structure of the Lorraine-- and in part it’s because addresses a popular, important subject, so the crowds are a good thing.

The museum also ends the story in a novel way. The passage of the Voting Rights Act is the first ending, but there are several codas. First, visitors enter the recreated rooms of the hotel where Dr. King was staying, and a window reveals the balcony as well as a view of the assassin’s building across the street. It’s very powerful. Following coverage of the immediate aftermath of his death, the displays then turn to the Black Power and Afro-centrism movements of the lates 1960s and early 70s, followed by the enduring legacy of the Civil Rights Movement. I think it’s inspired to point out that even tho the concept of Black Power doesn’t sit as comfortably with many whites as Dr. King’s non-violent resistance, it’s an equally important part of the same struggle. This museum also highlights throughout the many inequalities that blacks still face, such as the way most cities and schools are still segregated and the black political representation is still short of its potential.

And then things get really interesting... Across the street, in the boarding house where the assassin’s bullet came from, a newish wing examines the manhunt and trial that put Ray in jail (and displays the purported rifle). It then details the controversy that has surrounded the assassination ever since: the idea that Ray didn’t do it, that he didn’t do it alone and/or that he acted at someone else’s behest. Three separate commissions looked at the evidence, including the Justice Department and FBI in 1999 and 2000, and these displays very carefully and thoroughly present their findings. These investigations debunked some theories, but they raise A LOT of questions, and visitors are left to draw their own conclusions. Ultimately the more recent commissions decided Ray probably acted alone (tho they deemed a lot of witnesses, police and prosecutors unreliable) but he probably expected payment. From whom is unknown; the suspect list is quite long. It’s rare that a museum (especially a National one) would treat “conspiracy” theories so thoroughly and with such gravitas-- and not really try to dispel the conspiracy. Imagine the Kennedy Presidential Library doing that. I believe this reflexes the belief of some of the King family that Ray did not act alone and their attempt to uncover the truth.

All that mystery made me hungry again so I ate at nearby Central BBQ which was obviously delicious. Then it was home for more catch up. For dinner I was craving something non-Southern so I went to Los Comelos. I thought it was a nice-ish Mexican restaurant, but it turns out to be a local family chain. Food was tasty enough tho. Then it was over to the Pumping Station for some drinks and conversation before bed.

On Thursday I woke up and headed to nearby Cooper-Young for breakfast. The neighborhood was not as happening as I thought it would be so I drove north up Cooper Street (Midtown’s main drag) to a good ol’ diner called Barksdale. After a cheap, basic, tasty breakfast, I continued north to the Overton Park neighborhood which was much more bustling than Cooper-Young. I drove in and around the park to peep some of the shmanciest homes in the city.

I then drove to Stax Museum of American Soul, the legendary studio that produced some of the biggest, best soul acts of the late 60s and early 70s. The 20 minute film that starts the tour really tells you everything you need to know, but the following displays go into much greater detail. I appreciated how they taught musical history, describing the sources of various influences like gospel, country and blues and how these all converged in Memphis. The museum also seeks to tell a broader story of black music, so it also features contemporaries and followers like Motown, Mussel Shoals, funk and disco and fairly give credit (and blame) where it’s due. The artifacts are numerous but not all that impressive-- mainly records and covers along with some clothes. (One big exception is Isaac Hayes’ gold trimmed, fur lined Cadillac with TV and fridge accompanied by a video of him describing how awesome it was.) The best part of course is the music and videos. The Stax story, like so many in the music industry, ends sadly and in bankruptcy. In fact it’s only in the fine print at the end that we learn the original building was torn down in the 80s and the current one is a recreation. That feels like kind of a gyp, but overall it’s a good experience and a good lesson in music history.

The rain returned that night so I just walked to the closet bar/restaurant, Young Avenue Deli. Seemed like a fun place (with a stage!). As I was leaving, trivia night was beginning. The first question was “What two countries share land borders with Sweden?” Is that what passes for trivia in Memphis?! On the way home I stopped for beer at the very friendly Hammer & Ale bar/store.

The next morning I set out for Nashville. I had planned to take the Natchez Trace Parkway most of the way since it’s a lovely, historic road. But it was raining across the entire state so I opted for the I-40 straight shot. Driving for three hours in rain was hellish, and the road was surprisingly crowded and torn up and the drivers pretty incompetent and/or inconsiderate (especially the truckers). But the scenery was pretty, especially the second half. I must have passed at least 20 state parks full of fall-colored forests, as well as some lovely water ways and charming farm houses. It almost made of for the misery of the drive.

[blackkudos]

Buck O’Neil

John Jordan (Buck) O'Neil (November 13, 1911 – October 6, 2006) was a first baseman and manager in the Negro American League, mostly with the Kansas City Monarchs. After his playing days, he worked as a scout, and became the first African American coach in Major League Baseball. In his later years he became a popular and renowned speaker and interview subject, helping to renew widespread interest in the Negro leagues, and played a major role in establishing the Negro Leagues Baseball Museum in Kansas City, Missouri.

O'Neil's life was documented in Joe Posnanski's award-winning 2007 book The Soul of Baseball.

Playing career

Born in rural Carrabelle, Florida, O'Neil was initially denied the opportunity to attend high school due to racial segregation; at the time, Florida had only four high schools specifically for African Americans. However, after working a summer in a celery field with his father, O'Neil left home to live with relatives and attend Edward Waters College in Jacksonville, where he completed high school and two years of college courses. He left Florida in 1934 for several years of semi-professional "barnstorming" experiences (playing interracial exhibition games). The effort paid off, and in 1937, O'Neil signed with the Memphis Red Sox for their first year of play in the newly formed Negro American League. His contract was sold to the Monarchs the following year.

O'Neil had a career batting average of .288 between 1937 and 1950, including five .300-plus seasons at the plate, as well as five seasons in which he did not top .260. In 1946, the first baseman led the NAL with a .350 batting average and followed that in 1947 with a .305 mark in 16 games. He also posted averages of .344 in 1940 and .330 in 1949. He played in four East-West All-Star Games in three different seasons and two Negro World Series.

A World War II tour in the U.S. Navy from 1943–1945 briefly interrupted his playing career.

O'Neil was named manager of the Monarchs in 1948 after Frank Duncan's retirement, and continued to play first base as well as a regular through 1951, dropping to part-time status afterward. He managed the Monarchs for eight seasons from 1948 through 1955 during the declining years of the Negro leagues, winning two league titles and a shared title in which no playoff was held during that period. His two undisputed pennants were won in 1953 and 1955, when the league had shrunk to fewer than six teams.

Negro leagues career statistics

O'Neil was known to have played full-time in 1951 and as a reserve and pinch-hitter as late as 1955, but Negro leagues statistics for the period 1951 and after are considered extremely unreliable.

Source: Hall of Fame Committee on African-American Baseball, 2006

Off the field

When Tom Baird sold the Monarchs at the end of the 1955 season, O'Neil resigned as manager and became a scout for the Chicago Cubs. He was the first African American scout in Major League Baseball, and was named the first black coach in the major leagues by the Cubs in 1962 and is credited for signing Hall of Fame player Lou Brock to his first contract. O'Neil is sometimes incorrectly credited with also having signed Hall of Famer Ernie Banks to his first contract; Banks was originally scouted and signed to the Monarchs by Cool Papa Bell, then manager of the Monarchs' barnstorming B team in 1949. Banks played briefly for the Monarchs in 1950 and 1953, his play interrupted by Army duty. O'Neil was Banks' manager during those stints, and Banks was signed to play for the Cubs more than two years before O'Neil joined them as a scout.

After many years with the Cubs, O'Neil became a Kansas City Royals scout in 1988, and was named "Midwest Scout of the Year" in 1998.

O'Neil gained national prominence with his compelling descriptions of the Negro leagues as part of Ken Burns' 1994 PBS documentary on baseball. Afterwards, he became the subject of countless national interviews, including appearances on the Late Show with David Letterman and The Late Late Show with Tom Snyder.

In 1990, O'Neil led the effort to establish the Negro Leagues Baseball Museum (NLBM) in Kansas City, and served as its honorary board chairman until his death.

In 1996, O'Neil became the recipient of an Honorary Doctor of Business Administration degree from the University of Missouri – Kansas City in Kansas City, Missouri.

In February 2002, at the end of the NLBM's Legacy Awards annual banquet, O'Neil received an induction ring from the baseball scouts Hall of Fame in St. Louis.

O'Neil and all-star Ichiro Suzuki developed a relationship, with Ichiro attending the Negro Leagues Baseball Museum with O'Neil and seeking O'Neil's knowledge of the game when the Seattle Mariners would have road games in Kansas City. "With Buck, I felt something big. The way he carried himself, you can see and tell and feel he loved this game."

A busy final year

On May 13, 2006, he received an honorary doctorate in education from Missouri Western State University where he also gave the commencement speech.

O'Neil was a member of the 18-member Baseball Hall of Fame Veterans Committee from 1981 to 2000 and played an important role in the induction of six Negro league players from 1995 to 2001 during the time the Hall had a policy of inducting one Negro leaguer per year. O'Neil was nominated to a special Hall ballot for Negro league players, managers, and executives in 2006, but received fewer than the necessary nine votes (out of twelve) to gain admission; however, 17 other Negro league figures were selected.

God's been good to me. They didn't think Buck was good enough to be in the Hall of Fame. That's the way they thought about it and that's the way it is, so we're going to live with that. Now, if I'm a Hall of Famer for you, that's all right with me. Just keep loving old Buck. Don't weep for Buck. No, man, be happy, be thankful.

On July 29, 2006, O'Neil spoke at the induction ceremony for the Negro league players at the Baseball Hall of Fame.

Still playing after all these years

Just before the Hall of Fame ceremonies, O'Neil signed a contract with the Kansas City T-Bones on July 17 to allow him to play in the Northern League All-Star Game. Before the game, O'Neil was "traded" to the Fargo-Moorhead RedHawks and was listed as the starting shortstop, although after drawing an intentional walk, he was replaced before actually playing in the field. At the end of the inning, another "trade" was announced that brought O'Neil back to the Kansas City team, allowing him to lead off the bottom of the inning as well (drawing another intentional walk).

The T-Bones originally claimed that O'Neil, at age 94 years, 8 months, and 5 days, would be by far the oldest person to appear in a professional baseball game (surpassing 83-year-old Jim Eriotes who had struck out in another Northern League game just a week earlier). However, that claim was in error, as the Schaumburg Flyers of the Northern League had signed Ted "Double Duty" Radcliffe to a one-game contract and allowed him to face one batter on June 19, 1999 when he was 96 years old. While O'Neil was the second-oldest pro player, the claim was amended that he would be the oldest person to make a plate appearance in a professional baseball game.

The Kansas City T-Bones retired his number on May 26, 2006.

Death and legacy

On August 5, 2006, O'Neil was admitted to a Kansas City hospital after complaining that he didn't feel well. He was admitted for fatigue and was released three days later only to be re-admitted September 17. On September 28, Kansas City media reported that O'Neil's condition had worsened. On October 6, O'Neil died at the age of 94 of heart failure and bone marrow cancer.

During the ESPN opening day broadcast of the 2007 Kansas City Royals, on April 2, 2007, Joe Morgan announced that the Royals would honor O'Neil by placing a fan in the Buck O'Neil Legacy Seat in Kauffman Stadium each game who best exemplifies O'Neil's spirit. The seat itself has been replaced by a red seat amidst the all-blue seats behind home plate in Section 101, Row C, Seat 1. Due to the renovations and section renumbering in 2009 the seat number is now Section 127, Row C, Seat 9, and the seat bottom is now padded. The first person to sit in "Buck's seat" was Buck O'Neil's brother, Warren.

Presidential Medal of Freedom

On December 7, 2006, O'Neil was posthumously awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom by President George W. Bush; the award was given to his brother, Warren, on his behalf on December 15. He was chosen due to his "excellence and determination both on and off the baseball field", according to the White House news release. He joins such sports notables as Jesse Owens, Muhammad Ali, Jackie Robinson, and Jack Nicklaus in receiving the United States' highest civilian honor. On November 13, 2012 the family of Buck O'Neil donated his Presidential Medal of Freedom to the Negro Leagues Baseball Museum in honor of what would have been O'Neil's 101st birthday. The medal will be showcased in a special area of the NLBM dedicated to O'Neil.

Beacon of Life Award

On March 31, 2007—the day of Major League Baseball's first annual Civil Rights Game—O'Neil was posthumously awarded MLB's first annual Beacon of Life Award at the inaugural MLB Beacon Awards luncheon.

Lifetime Achievement Award

On October 24, 2007, O'Neil was posthumously given a Lifetime Achievement Award named after him. He had fallen short in the Hall of Fame vote in 2006; however, he was honored in 2007 with a new award given by the Hall of Fame, to be named after him. A statue of O'Neil is to be placed inside the Negro Leagues Baseball Museum on 18th and Vine in Kansas City, and the Buck O'Neil Lifetime Achievement Award will be presented no more than every three years.

At the Hall of Fame induction ceremony on July 27, 2008, Joe Morgan gave a dedication speech for the award and talked about O'Neil's life, repeatedly citing the title of O'Neil's autobiography, I Was Right on Time.

Other honors

Buck O'Neil Run/Walk

"John Jordan 'Buck' O'Neil" exhibit (in the Ted Williams Museum and Hitters Hall of Fame)

Hall of Famous Missourians: In February 2012 O'Neil was inducted to the Hall, located in the Missouri state capitol building in Jefferson City. A bronze bust of O'Neil will be on permanent display by the sculptor E. Spencer Schubert.

Wikipedia

[reyloforcebalance]

Special

My submission for the @two-halves-of-reylo weekly challenge (Week 13: Kyber). These weekly challenge fics are accidentally turning into a story… if you want to catch up, check out the previous ones on AO3. Thanks for reading!

Darkness.

That’s all there is. That’s all there seems to be. At least, it would seem that way to most people.

But not to Rey.

It’s true that her eyes see nothing but blackness.

And yet she knows to step around the jagged boulder just ahead of her.  She knows there’s a large opening in the ground not far and that if she fell into it, it would be a long way down. She knows this tunnel will soon curve sharply to the left.

And she knows she’s not far. Not far at all.

Her heart quickens with anticipation.

Only half an hour earlier, she’d been cursing herself for coming here. So stupid. She shouldn’t even be on this wasteland of a planet, nothing but grey skies and rocky, barren terrain. She should be back at the training base with the others.

And why had she come? To chase a rumor. From an extremely unreliable source. Just a conversation between two traders at a local bar, made in hushed whispers. She doesn’t even know why she decided to eavesdrop on them in the first place. But when she did, she heard something that’s been eating at her for days.

There’s kyberite on this planet, buried deep in its labyrinth of caves.  

Kyber. The strongest substance in the galaxy. Force-attuned crystals used to power lightsabers.

It easily could have been a dead end. Thirty minutes ago, she thought it was. Traders love to share secrets that aren’t true. And kyber might just be the rarest substance there is. The likelihood the man was lying or misinformed was astronomical.

And yet she came anyway. She can’t quite explain why.

She didn’t give much explanation to the others either. She didn’t even really say goodbye. She just left a recording with BB-8 saying she had something urgent to attend to and would return in a few days.

It’s as though she was drawn here by something beyond reason. Just a feeling, like a fingernail scratching incessantly in the back of her mind. She couldn’t ignore it any longer. She needed to know, one way or the other.

And now she knows.

The deeper she gets into these caves, the more she senses it. There’s something here, something that calls to her through the Force.

Could it be? Could it be her crystal beckoning her to claim it?

She hates to admit it but… Ben got to her. It’s been months, but she’s found herself thinking about it more and more. What was it he’d told her?

“Find your crystal. Forge your destiny. Don’t fall back on someone else’s.”

At first, she was annoyed. She has a crystal. Skywalker’s. And it’s because of him that crystal is now useless, tucked away on the Falcon, still lodged in a broken lightsaber.

But then she started thinking about it and… maybe he was right. Skywalker’s crystal did call to her. But is it really her crystal? She didn’t find it. Not in its natural state, anyway. And she’s no Skywalker.

Maybe there’s something else out there… something better… something just for her.

Rey turns to the left and begins to slow a bit, walking more carefully as she senses the downward slope ahead, the increasingly uneven ground, jagged crevices, some large, cutting through the floor of the tunnel. She touches the cave wall with her right hand as she goes, just a small comfort to steady her.

Suddenly, she notices… she’s starting to see. Ever so slightly. The surface of the cave walls seems to fade in, just barely visible. The more she walks, the more she begins to see the faint outline of the entire tunnel, jagged at the sides, sharp, dagger-like rocks above, the path in front of her almost like steps, large crevices followed by abrupt drops. She hops down one, then another. As she does, her heart beats faster in excitement.

She descends quickly, seeing more clearly the further she goes. There’s an opening just below— where the light’s coming from. She’s getting closer… almost there…

She hops down the last drop and bursts through the opening but then slows almost immediately. She takes a couple of dazed steps before halting outright.

Rey stands, mouth gaping, eyes wide yet soft. Her body swells with something she hardly knows how to describe. She’s never felt such a thing before. Maybe this is what people call… reverence.

She’s in a cavern as large as a hangar, at least thirty meters tall, a smooth floor of cracked, grayish earth stretching out before her.

It’s glowing. Glowing. Clusters of crystals of all shapes and sizes line the walls and the ceiling, radiating a bluish-white light. They give the cave a strange sort of vibrancy as though it were moving, pulsing. It seems to be alive somehow.

The air is thick with the tension of the Force, the interminable pull of competing energies. The crystals seem to heighten the sense of it so that what is normally a calm, steady reminder in her core is now surging, flowing lifeblood, filling her with a larger sense of being. She feels less like herself and more connected to everything around her.

Some clusters are small, blue patches of light. Others are the size of combat speeders, large, round cylinders with pointed ends that glow so brightly Rey can’t quite look at them straight on.

She turns in place, gazing up and all around. Her eyes are overwhelmed with the scene, yet she can’t stop eagerly taking it in. This must be… the most beautiful thing in galaxy. She can’t imagine a rival. Surely, of all the things she’s seen since leaving Jakku, nothing could be more beautiful than this.

She doesn’t know how long she stands there, gaping at the surroundings, before it occurs to her why she came in the first place.

She needs to find her crystal. It must be here. Why else would she have felt that magnetic pull to this very spot the deeper she got into the caves?

And yet… now that she’s here, she’s wondering if she was just feeling the heightened Force energy the crystals seem to create together. Maybe…

Rey looks down, a little lost. She’s not sure what to do next, how to proceed. She bites her lower lip and thinks back. What was it he’d said?  

Jedi younglings would go to Ilum. They’d search for… days? That can’t be right. How large were the caves in Ilum? They’d search until the right crystal called…

“The call is a bond.”

That’s what he said.

Ok. So… she’s bonded to it already… or once she hears the call? How does she hear it? Does she wander around listening for it? Or should she meditate first, letting it reach out to her, then follow it?

Rey takes a short breath and huffs it out. She looks up and around as if turning to the crystals for guidance. Then she begins to walk forward, stopping when she’s closer to the center of the cavern. She takes a seat and settles into a meditative posture, legs crossed, back and neck straight, shoulders resting lightly. She starts to breathe deeply, focusing on her breath, on bringing her body into a state of calm.

But it seems to be impossible. The atmosphere is thick with… something. Not just the heightened energy of the Force. There’s something else…

She tries to focus on her breathing, the rhythm of it, surrendering to that steady sureness, that calm.

But ripples seem to run through her, tiny disturbances fraying her concentration. They waft by, seeming to whisper to her as they pass. It’s as if they’re…?

No. No. That’s utterly ridiculous.

Rey straightens and tries to reengage her focus. But the ripples, the whispers…. They tug at her attention.

What is that? It can’t be…

The crystals. Are they… talking to each other?

No. No. That’s crazy.

She sucks in a breath, more sharply than she means to. She lets it out slowly.

Calm. She needs to be calm… She takes another inhale, more purposeful this time.

That’s right. Back into the rhythm. Inhale and exhale.

Rey sits perfectly still, face titled slightly upwards, appearing to be at peace. But inwardly she’s squirming, constantly interrupted by these ripples swimming by her, seeming to speak without a voice. She fights to focus, fights to ignore the whispers passing through her like thoughts. But it’s not possible. Not with this noise in her head. How can she possibly hear the call of her crystal through this?

Her eyes fly open as she lets out a frustrated exhale. She sets her jaw, then looks up and around at the crystals. Are they the source of this? What else could it be?

She lets out another exhale, staring downward, trying to figure out what to do. Her body feels on edge, unsettled. That is, until she feels a warmth well at her core.

Uh oh.

She immediately closes her eyes and straightens, trying to breathe consciously again, slow inhales and exhales, as though she could stop the bond from bringing them together if only she could become calm enough.

But it’s no use. She feels his presence creeping ever closer. He’ll be here any second now. She drops her shoulders and slouches, defeated. She’s already dreading his reaction…

She bows her head, waiting for the inevitable.

Her heart skips a beat when she feels his presence behind her. She doesn’t open her eyes or even move. But she knows what he’s doing. She can practically picture him in her mind. He’s taking in the surroundings, looking up and all over the cavern. She hears him take a few steps in front of her.

Rey finally opens her eyes. She stares at the ground for a few seconds, then reluctantly looks up.

His back is to her, but not for long. Her turns, arms at his sides, broad shoulders squared. He looks down at her with a smug expression.

“You’re looking for your crystal, aren’t you?” He asks the question like he knows the answer. She stares up at him, wordless, but he reads her anyway.

“Good.” He nods decisively, sounding pleased with himself. “You should be.”

That. That right there. That’s what she was dreading. That imperious “of course you’re doing what I told you to do because why wouldn’t you?” tone in his voice.

She looks away, annoyed. She hates that he knows he got to her. But there’s nothing she can do about it now. She sighs softly and sits in silence as he continues to examine the cave where he stands.

“Well, you’re not going to find it sitting there,” he announces abruptly, walking over to her and extending a gloved hand, dark eyes seeming to beckon her. “Come on,” he commands, nodding forward.

She stares at him, jaw set, debating inwardly. Part of her doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction. But another part of her can’t deny the truth, the reality… that he’s really the only one she knows who can help her. She sighs heavily.

Then she takes his hand.

He helps her up and puts an arm at her back, leading her to a side of the cavern. She squints and averts her eyes a bit when they get closer, some of the crystals so bright that their glow is almost painful. They stop just in front of the wall, and Ben’s arm slips from her back as he kneels before a round, medium-sized cluster about the size of a BB droid.

“Come here,” he commands softly, eyes fixed on the crystals. She crouches next to him. He glances at her and nods towards the cluster. “Touch one.”

She turns to face them and extends a hand tentatively. As she does, she notices the striations on the surface of crystals, each one with a unique pattern. Her fingers are only inches away from the one in the center. Closer… closer…

Suddenly, her hand snaps back and she straightens, alarmed.

“Did you see that!?” She turns to Ben, eyes wide. “They just moved, or changed. Didn’t they?”

“They do that,” he informs her. “Especially when anything living interacts with them. They can change their structure at will. It’s a defense mechanism. Don’t let it scare you.” He nods for her to try again. She turns forward and lifts a hand, reaching out again towards the center crystal. As her hand nears, she sees it again… a kind of subtle change in the cluster as though they were reorganizing internally. It creates a soft flicker in their glow.

Finally, the tips of her fingers graze the surface of the crystal, a cylinder-shaped one with harsh angles. As her flingers slide across it, she feels it grow warm. She gasps softly at this and stares at it, transfixed. She could swear it was pulsing, as though it were alive.

“It’s getting warm,” she says, excitement swelling in her chest  

“It’s reacting to you,” he responds in a low voice, leaning towards her. “It’s reacting to your energy.”

“Does that mean it’s mine?” She turns eagerly to face him.

“No.” He shakes his head. “They all do that.”

“Ah.” She nods her head briefly in understanding, then turns back to look at the cluster of crystals. She moves her hand from the center, touching some of the others along the side. Each one warms slightly as her fingers graze across them. She touches all of them before withdrawing her hand. Then she stares at them for a moment, feeling uncertain, confused. She turns to Ben, a question burning in her eyes. He answers it before she can ask.

“Rey, you just have to explore, search,” he tells her frankly. “You’ll know your crystal when you find it.”

“But how?” She knits her eyebrows.  

“Listen,” he intones, dark eyes descending towards hers. “Listen for the call.”

“The bond?” She asks to confirm. He nods his head.

“It’ll sound like…” he pauses as though searching his mind for the right word. He looks away for a moment to gaze at the crystals in front of them. Suddenly, he slips off a glove and reaches out to touch one. She sees that subtle shift again on their surface.

“It sounds like a kind of song,” he finishes finally, withdrawing his hand. “But no one song is alike. It’s different for everyone.” He continues to gaze at the crystals with a faraway look. She feels a strange mixture of emotions in him, as though he were reminiscing about a tainted memory, half pleasant, half painful. Her mind drifts to what he once told her about his own crystal… about how he bled it to become Kylo Ren. How it cracked. How he couldn’t admit it, denied it outright but… this was ultimately an act of self-injury. To his soul.

Her heart twists as she watches him.

“Ben…” Rey begins softly. “How did you find your crystal?”

He immediately jerks back as if awakening from a trance. He glances at her briefly, then rises.

“We don’t have time for stories,” he tells her dismissively. “We need to find your crystal. And that could take a while.”

She looks up at him, intrigued by his reaction to her question. She considers pressing him about it, but decides not to. For now. She begins to rise.

“Do I have to touch my crystal to hear its call?” She asks as she stands.

“No,” he shakes his head, looking up the wall and not at her. “You’ll hear it when…” he hesitates. “You’ll hear it when it’s ready for you to.”

“What?” Rey steps towards him, demanding an explanation.

“This isn’t a science, Rey,” he admonishes her, shaking his head irritation. “And you need to be prepared for the possibility that your crystal isn’t even here.”

At this, her eyes widen in disbelief. She looks down, biting her lip, shoulders dropping in disappointment. She knows it’s foolish, but she’d let herself become enchanted by the idea that her crystal was calling to her, that it was the reason she decided to eavesdrop on those traders, decided to come here against all reason… drawn by the call of something created especially for her.

“Hey,” Ben softens his tone, placing a hand on her shoulder. She looks up to find his dark eyes encouraging, gentle even. “It still could be here. And you have me to help you look, so you’ll find out twice as quickly.” She nods, taking in a breath, determination renewing. He nods back, then withdraws his hand and straightens to look around the cavern.

“You start at this wall. I’ll go to the opposite end. Just explore, touch, and listen.” His gaze drifts upwards for a moment before turning back to her. “Climb if you need to.” He gives another terse nod, then strides away.

“Wait!” She takes a few steps after him. “I don’t understand. I thought I was the only one who could hear my crystal?”

“Think about it, Rey,” he calls back at her without stopping. She furrows her eyebrows, confused, then flits her head in annoyance. She crosses her arms and turns back towards the cave wall. Think about it, she mimics in her mind as she walks. Think about what?

Then it hits her.

Their bond. If she’s bonded to his crystal, he must be bonded to hers. He’ll be able to hear its call.

She stops dead, the hairs on her arm standing up, disquieted by this realization. But there’s no time to dwell on that now. She needs to focus on listening.

She shakes off the feeling and continues to the cave wall, extending her hand towards a new cluster of crystals, this one small. As her fingers touch each one lightly, they seems to shimmer, the striations on the crystals subtly changing. Her eyes regard them with wonder, caught up in the spectacle. Then it occurs to her that she’s not listening.

Rey straightens and closes her eyes, relying on her second sight through the Force, one that won’t be distracted by the beauty of the cave. She continues to touch the crystals and begins to focus on her breathing, on bringing her mind into a calm open state. She walks forward towards another cluster.

She doesn’t make it to a third cluster before it starts happening again. The ripples… those constant distractions passing through her mind, tugging at her, fraying her concentration. She grits her teeth and tenses her body, as though trying to harden herself against them. But it makes no difference. They pass through her freely, ephemeral, as though the physical world were nothing but a shadow to them.  

She relaxes her muscles as much as she can, trying to refocus on her breathing. She’ll just have to endure this, try to listen through the noise. Maybe this is part of it? Part of the challenge.

She continues her progress, making her way through clusters of various sizes, keeping her eyes closed most of the time. She touches the crystals, trying to sense subtle changes in how each one feels, searching for the call, the song meant just for her. But those damn ripples… entering her, whispering to her…  How can there be whispers without voices?

It doesn’t make any sense. And yet that’s what it feels like.

These whispers, this noise… it’s starting to drive her absolutely insane. Her mind is growing increasingly exhausted by the constant battle to concentrate, to force her focus.

“Rey, you need to be patient,” Ben suddenly calls out to her from across the cavern. She opens her eyes and turns towards him.

“I am!” She protests loudly.

“No, you’re not,” he yells back. “I can feel your frustration from here. You need to calm down. You won’t hear the call if you’re worked up like this.”

“I can’t hear anything through this damn noise anyways!” Rey releases her rage in a guttural shout that reverberates throughout the cavern. She immediately gasps, surprised at her own voice, then closes her eyes and takes a breath, fighting back tears pushing to the surface. It’s no use. One slips and trickles down her right cheek.  She buries her face in her palms, squeezing her eyes shut.

She hears Ben approach swiftly. He stops just next to her, putting a hand on her back.

“Rey, what’s wrong?” She feels his concern, but doesn’t answer immediately. She takes a few seconds to collect herself, breathing in slowly. He strokes her back for a moment then drops his hand. Finally, she straightens and opens her eyes, exhaling. She crosses her arms and shakes her head, staring forward.

“How am I supposed to hear my crystal through all of this noise, the whispering, it’s constant.” She sounds exasperated, desperate. “I can’t—”

“Wait, what!?” He interrupts her suddenly, eyes wide. “What do you hear?” He demands.

She looks up at him, confused at this reaction. “Do you not hear it too?” She knits her eyebrows. He regards her, eyes intense with interest. He begins to shake his head slowly.

“No,” he says the word quietly. “I don’t think I do. Not like you.” He continues to stare intently, his expression strange, almost in awe. She begins to feel uncomfortable, self-conscious.  

“What exactly are you hearing?” He lowers his voice, stepping in closer and leaning down towards her. She feels his fascination, his excitement at this discovery. She shrugs her shoulders and looks around, unsure how to describe the experience.

“It’s like thoughts…” she starts tentatively. “Thoughts in another language. Without a voice. The just pass through, in and out, beyond my control.” She gestures with a hand on either side of her head.

“Does it sound like they’re coming from one source? Or is it like many individuals?” His asks expectantly.

“Uh…” she hesitates. “Many, I think?” He nods, processing this for a moment before stepping back. He straightens and looks around the cavern, his eyes full of a kind of wonder.

“You can hear the crystals,” he says without looking at her. “That’s… very rare. Very.”

Rey tilts her head and purses her lips, trying to grasp this. “Wait a minute. So… the crystals are alive? They’re sentient?” She looks up at him in disbelief.

“Many have theorized that, yes.” He looks back at her with solemn eyes. “Some have theorized they have a collective consciousness. But no one knows for sure. It’s in the nature of kyber crystals to elude study.” Rey nods as he speaks, taking this in.  

Suddenly, a sly smile tugs at Ben’s lips. “Of course, no one’s been able to communicate with them before.” He raises an eyebrow suggestively.

“I can’t communicate with them,” Rey balks, bringing a hand to her chest. “I have no idea what they’re saying.”

“I bet you could learn.” He steps closer towards her, eyes bright with possibility. “If you stayed in a place like this long enough, listened long enough.”

She grunts, taking a step back. “If I did that, I think I’d go crazy.” He squints his eyes as if to challenge this, but doesn’t say anything. He just continues to regard her silently.

Rey crosses her arms and looks away, feeling self-conscious again. She presses her lips together, thinking for a moment.

“So…” she starts hesitantly. “What does this mean for finding my crystal? How do I hear its call when I can hear all of them?” She looks up at him for guidance.

“I have no idea.” He shakes his head, eyes widening a bit, at a complete loss. She looks away, looks down, releasing her hands at her sides, defeated by this answer. If he doesn’t know then, who would?

“Perfect.” She feels a wave of hopelessness wash over her. “That’s just perfect.”

Disappointment hangs heavy, dragging her to the ground. She crosses her legs and leans back against the cave wall, resting her hands in her lap. She stares into space, eyes dark and troubled. Ben crouches slowly and settles on the ground next to her. He seems to be thinking intensely, as though trying to work out a solution to her problem. But several minutes pass and he doesn’t say anything. He must not be coming up with much.

She sighs, mentally drained, not sure what to do and too brain-weary to figure it out.

Suddenly, a thought occurs to her. She glances over at Ben but quickly looks away. Maybe she can’t find her crystal, but that doesn’t mean this has to be a complete waste. After all, the bond must have brought him here for a reason. Maybe this is an opportunity… an opportunity for another small moment. A reminder.

“Ben,” she starts tentatively. She glances over at him again, and his dark eyes catch hers. “There’s something you can do that I think would really help.”

“What?” He leans forward, his tone seeming to assent to her request before she even asks. She sits up a little and scoots towards him, clear eyes meeting his. She looks at him, unblinking, for a few seconds.

“You could tell me how you found your crystal,” she says finally. He immediately flinches and looks way, his face twisting into something like a grimace.

“Ben, come on,” she begs, leaning forward. “Please.” She looks up at him entreatingly but he’s not looking at her, arms crossed, jaw set, staring across the cavern. “You’ve actually done this before,” she continues earnestly. “It will help me so much to hear someone else’s experience.” He still doesn’t look at her.

“Ben,” she pleads with him more softly, scooting even closer, so close her knee grazes his. He’s sitting with one knee propped up, his right elbow resting on it, and the other resting on the ground. He’s looking up at the cavern ceiling and not at her. She leans forward and puts a hand on his thigh. His jaw visibly tightens.

“Please.” He finally glances down at her and is met by pleading eyes. “Please. I’m completely lost here. Maybe if you tell me how you found your crystal it will give me a clue about how to find mine.”

He sighs heavily and looks away. “Rey, I really don’t think hearing about that will help you. You’re in a very unique situation. My experience doesn’t apply here.” He looks back at her decisively, shaking his head no. She studies him for a moment, searching for a chink in his armor. But his black eyes are cold, as if hardened against entry.

Rey sits up and withdraws her hand, resting it on her lap. She looks down at the ground, mulling over various strategies in her head. She’s not giving up on this battle just yet. Maybe she can coax him into it, little by little.

She purses her lips, then suddenly uncrosses her legs, lying back on the cavern floor and bringing both of her knees up. She rests her hands on her stomach.

“Well, can you at least tell me where you found yours so I know where else I can look.” She sighs, gazing up at the glow of the ceiling.

“Mine was at Christophsis.” This, at least, he offers freely. “But yours isn’t there.” She continues to stare upward, thinking about what to ask him next. Suddenly, her thoughts halt. She cocks her head on the ground, confused. In an instant, she sits up again, crossing her legs and looking to Ben. He looks back, guarded.

“How do you know my crystal isn’t there?” She demands. He immediately looks away, as though he’s been caught in the act. Her lips part as she studies him, searching his reaction to her question. And just like that, she realizes what he’s hiding.

Her head jerks back and she sits up straighter. She can’t stop a smile from creeping across her lips. She tilts her head, regarding him softly, surprised.

“You’ve been looking for my crystal, haven’t you?”

He doesn’t speak or even look at her. But she knows the answer. She senses it in him, a tinge of embarrassment mixed with… something else. Something she can’t quite identify. Like… tenderness maybe.

Rey leans back, placing both palms on the ground behind her, arms propping her up. She eyes him with curiosity, her lips still turned into a slight smile.

“So where have you looked?”

He still avoids eye contact, his gaze cast downward. He purses his lips and twitches his jaw, as if considering whether or not to answer her.

“Christophsis,” he says finally. “And a couple of planets in the Unknown Regions.”

“Which ones?” She sits up eagerly, bringing her palms to her lap.

“None you would know of.” He glances at her briefly before looking away again.

Rey rolls her eyes, annoyed by his vague answers. But annoyance quickly subsides, replaced by a complex mixture of emotions. She’s perplexed as to why he’s taken the time to look in the first place, uncertain what could possibly motivate him to do such a thing.

What would he have to gain from finding her crystal?

She brings a thumb to her lip, lost in thought. What ulterior motive could be behind this…? It’s difficult to say, considering how little she knows about kybers. It could be any number of things. And yet she can’t seem to quell a gut feeling…

He’s not looking because of anything he has to gain. He’s just looking for her.

Rey drops her hand, catching her breath.

She glances up at him and is met by black eyes gazing at her softly. He has that look again, the one that makes her feel… exposed. Now she’s the one who looks away, pressing her lips together, struggling to banish the flutters in her stomach.

She sighs heavily, as though trying to reset herself.

“Well…” she starts, not sure what to say next. A few seconds pass. “I guess it’s a good thing you’ve been looking because I’m starting to think I can’t find it myself. Not with the whispers of a thousand crystals in my head every time I try to concentrate.”

“Rey,” he intones deeply, leaning towards her. She looks up to find his face only a few inches from hers. She becomes enraptured in his gaze, intense yet gentle at the same time. “What you can do,” he continues with a little awe in his voice. “It’s not a curse. It’s a gift. It means you’re special.”

Something about the way he says this makes her heart skip a beat. Suddenly, she seems to forget everything. Coming here. Searching for her crystal. Hearing the whispers. Goading him to share how he found his crystal. Everything just melts away until there are only those dark, soulful eyes, looking at her deeply, seeming to look into her.

Out of nowhere, a strong emotion consumes her, nearly knocking the breath out of her. She’s not sure if it’s her own or his. Maybe a little of both. She doesn’t quite know how to describe it. It’s a kind of heart-heaviness, like being so full of feelings that they weigh you down, almost like a burden. It’s partially painful but also… exquisite. A beautiful pain. It’s only unwelcome because of how overwhelming it is, a yearning that cuts straight through the heart.  

She’s so lost in his gaze, she doesn’t notice him lift his hand to her face. She catches her breath, surprised when she feels his thumb at her cheek, stroking back a few strands of hair. The intensity in his eyes softens.

“Somewhere in the galaxy,” he starts in a low voice, his face seeming to draw even closer to hers, “there’s a crystal just for you. And we’re going to find it.” He gives her a nod of assurance before dropping his hand. Somehow, Rey finds the self-possession to nod back at him, still enraptured in those deep, black wells staring into her.

He tilts his head slightly. She could swear he starts to lean in, to close the small gap between her face and his, but he disappears just as she sees the movement. She gasps, jarred by the sudden end to the bond, as always.

She stares blankly ahead for a few moments, so numbed she’s not quite aware of either her body or physical surroundings. She lost in her own head. Part of her is still lost in his gaze, in his warm assurance, his gentle touch. She casts her eyes downward for a moment, a thought beginning to creep around the edges of her mind. Less of a thought… more like a realization.

But it doesn’t get far before she pushes it away, burying it once more. She shakes her head briskly, pulling herself out of her stupor and back into the cave, back into an awareness of her surroundings. She looks up and around at the crystals for a few moments, considering what to do next.

After a few minutes of thinking, Rey rises and walks to the center of the cavern, taking a seat on the cracked earth. She crosses her legs and straightens, closing her eyes and resting her shoulders back gently.

This time, she doesn’t try to meditate or listen for the call of her crystal. She simply lets herself be still, at peace, with no agenda, no purpose other than to just be.

It doesn’t take long for her to sense the ripples once more, whispers passing freely in and out of her mind. She doesn’t fight them. She doesn’t try to ignore them. She simply… observes them, lets herself be their conduit.

She finds that when she isn’t trying to concentrate on something else, the whispers aren’t so maddening. Now it’s just like being in a noisy marketplace, a thousand different conversations swirling around her. She still has no idea what they’re saying. But…

Maybe Ben’s right. Maybe she can learn. And if she does, maybe they can tell her where her crystal is.

She takes in a deep breath, enjoying the feeling of a true calm. She tilts her face towards the ceiling and surrenders herself to the Force, to the heightened energy of the room, to the buzz of the crystals incessantly communicating with each other.

Her crystal isn’t here. Somehow, she just knows it. But she’s starting to think that’s not why she was drawn here. No, perhaps the real reason she needed to come here was to discover this thing about herself— her ability to hear the crystals, an ability that is apparently very rare.

At this, the moment replays involuntarily in her mind, what he said to her, about her.

“It’s not a curse… It’s a gift.”

She bows her head.

“It means you’re special.”

[butterflies-dragons]

SANSA STARK: A WOLF WITH DRAGON WINGS

I. AN INTRODUCTION

This is an extract from what George RR Martin wrote regarding what happened to Sansa in the sixth episode of the fifth season of Game of Thrones:

How many children did Scarlett O'Hara have? Three, in the novel. One, in the movie. None, in real life: she was a fictional character, she never existed. The show is the show, the books are the books; two different tellings of the same story.

There have been differences between the novels and the television show since the first episode of season one. And for just as long, I have been talking about the butterfly effect. Small changes lead to larger changes lead to huge changes. HBO is more than forty hours into the impossible and demanding task of adapting my lengthy (extremely) and complex (exceedingly) novels, with their layers of plots and subplots, their twists and contradictions and unreliable narrators, viewpoint shifts and ambiguities, and a cast of characters in the hundreds. 

There has seldom been any TV series as faithful to its source material, by and large (if you doubt that, talk to the Harry Dresden fans, or readers of the Sookie Stackhouse novels, or the fans of the original WALKING DEAD comic books)… but the longer the show goes on, the bigger the butterflies become. And now we have reached the point where the beat of butterfly wings is stirring up storms, like the one presently engulfing my email. 

Prose and television have different strengths, different weaknesses, different requirements.

David and Dan and Bryan and HBO are trying to make the best television series that they can.

And over here I am trying to write the best novels that I can.

And yes, more and more, they differ. Two roads diverging in the dark of the woods, I suppose… but all of us are still intending that at the end we will arrive at the same place.

In the meantime, we hope that the readers and viewers both enjoy the journey. Or journeys, as the case may be. Sometimes butterflies grow into dragons.

Sometimes butterflies grow into dragons. 

Sometimes butterflies grow into dragons.

SOMETIMES BUTTERFLIES GROW INTO DRAGONS.

That line really stuck in my mind. Because, beyond its literal meaning within the text, it is so beautiful and powerful, and gives me so much hope about Sansa’s future, because, indeed, she is a butterfly that could grow into a dragon.

Just look at what I found about Sansa’s butterfly symbolism:

[…] when Sansa’s dragonfly, wings, and butterfly symbolisms are born. Game of Thrones embroidery and animal motifs, especially with the female characters, employ subtle clues to the characters’ narrative evolutions. Sansa’s “spirit animal” motif is applied to her costume over and over as her character and story develop.

There are many theories about the Stark girl’s flighty, winged creature crest, from Sansa’s moth ring to her embellished gowns. Cersei calls her “little dove,” and winged creatures are traditionally symbols of beauty and fragility. However, I feel that Sansa and her symbolism are far more complex than this. Moths, dragonflies, and butterflies are metamorphic creatures that, despite their visually flimsy allure and delicate nature, evolve and grow as they shift and change. I feel like they are a very apt metaphor for Sansa Stark, who, through her pain due to her fragile place in society as a woman, is never broken entirely. She only evolves and grows as she shifts and changes through self realization.

It is also discussed that the story of The Prince of Dragonflies — a Targaryen prince who gave up the throne to be with his love — influenced Michele Carragher’s choice for Sansa’s personal emblem. Sansa’s obsession with courtly love, which is dashed time and time again, is mirrored in this tragic tale.

—Sansa Stark’s Fashion Evolution Through ‘Game Of Thrones’ And How Her Wardrobe Mirrors Her Character

After reading that article I started doing research for references about Sansa & dragonfly symbolism and/or Sansa & the Prince of Dragonflies in the books. And I ended up writing this long long post about it, where you can find a lot of Sansa Stark and Jon Snow connections and parallels.

So, since I already wrote about Sansa and dragonflies, now it is time for me to write about dragons, about Sansa and dragons.

II. DIFFERENT ROADS SOMETIMES LEAD TO THE SAME CASTLE

YES, I know that when George said “Sometimes butterflies grow into dragons”, he was talking about the changes the Show decided to make in Sansa’s story. While in the Books she is in the Vale in the guise of Alayne Stone, eating lemony lemony lemon cakes and trying to charm, entice and bewitch Harry the Arse the Heir, the Show put her in the place of Jeyne Poole or Fake Arya. So Sansa ended up being repeatedly beaten, raped and tortured by Ramsay Bolton in her own home. HER OWN HOME! A place she yearns for; a place where she finds courage and strength within its walls. Again, I will always hate D&D for what they did to Sansa... BUT, as George himself said: “Two roads diverging in the dark of the woods, I suppose… but all of us are still intending that at the end we will arrive at the same place”. So that makes me think that in the Books, Sansa and Jon, against all odds, will meet again.  

[x]

And I will give you more reasons why I think that: 

“Two roads diverging in the dark of the woods, I suppose… but all of us are still intending that at the end we will arrive at the same place”. Where do I read that before? Oh yes, in the Books: 

Jon messed up her hair. "I will miss you, little sister." 

Suddenly she looked like she was going to cry. "I wish you were coming with us."

"Different roads sometimes lead to the same castle. Who knows?" He was feeling better now. He was not going to let himself be sad. "I better go. I'll spend my first year on the Wall emptying chamber pots if I keep Uncle Ben waiting any longer."

Arya ran to him for a last hug. "Put down the sword first," Jon warned her, laughing. She set it aside almost shyly and showered him with kisses.

—A Game of Thrones - Jon II

I know that this dialogue is between Jon and Arya and it shows the endearing love they have for each other; but believe me, every time I read that last conversation between them, the way Sansa is so very present during that exchange of words always amazes me:

I have something for you to take with you, and it has to be packed very carefully.

"Her face lit up. "A present?"

"You could call it that. Close the door."

Wary but excited, Arya checked the hall. "Nymeria, here. Guard." She left the wolf out there to warn of intruders and closed the door. By then Jon had pulled off the rags he'd wrapped it in. He held it out to her.

Arya's eyes went wide. Dark eyes, like his. "A sword," she said in a small, hushed breath.

The scabbard was soft grey leather, supple as sin. Jon drew out the blade slowly, so she could see the deep blue sheen of the steel. "This is no toy," he told her. "Be careful you don't cut yourself. The edges are sharp enough to shave with."

"Girls don't shave," Arya said.

"Maybe they should. Have you ever seen the septa's legs?"

She giggled at him. "It's so skinny."

"So are you," Jon told her. "I had Mikken make this special. The bravos use swords like this in Pentos and Myr and the other Free Cities. It won't hack a man's head off, but it can poke him full of holes if you're fast enough."

"I can be fast," Arya said.

"You'll have to work at it every day." He put the sword in her hands, showed her how to hold it, and stepped back. "How does it feel? Do you like the balance?"

"I think so," Arya said.

"First lesson," Jon said. "Stick them with the pointy end."

Arya gave him a whap on the arm with the flat of her blade. The blow stung, but Jon found himself grinning like an idiot. "I know which end to use," Arya said. A doubtful look crossed her face. "Septa Mordane will take it away from me."

"Not if she doesn't know you have it," Jon said.

"Who will I practice with?"

"You'll find someone," Jon promised her. "King's Landing is a true city, a thousand times the size of Winterfell. Until you find a partner, watch how they fight in the yard. Run, and ride, make yourself strong. And whatever you do …"

Arya knew what was coming next. They said it together.

"… don't … tell … Sansa!"

Jon messed up her hair. "I will miss you, little sister."

Suddenly she looked like she was going to cry. "I wish you were coming with us."

"Different roads sometimes lead to the same castle. Who knows?" He was feeling better now. He was not going to let himself be sad. "I better go. I'll spend my first year on the Wall emptying chamber pots if I keep Uncle Ben waiting any longer."

Arya ran to him for a last hug. "Put down the sword first," Jon warned her, laughing. She set it aside almost shyly and showered him with kisses.

When he turned back at the door, she was holding it again, trying it for balance. "I almost forgot," he told her. "All the best swords have names."

"Like Ice," she said. She looked at the blade in her hand. "Does this have a name? Oh, tell me."

"Can't you guess?" Jon teased. "Your very favorite thing."

Arya seemed puzzled at first. Then it came to her. She was that quick. They said it together:

"Needle!"

The memory of her laughter warmed him on the long ride north.

—A Game of Thrones - Jon II

See? Arya named the sword Jon gave her “Needle”. Jon thought about the same name for the sword, even before he gave it to Arya. And all that was because Sansa was extremely good at embroidering and Arya wasn't. I believe that if Sansa hadn’t been so good at it and if Septa Mordane hadn’t always compared Arya's stitches to her sister's exquisite ones, needles wouldn’t have been so relevant to Arya.

So, it is very obvious that when Jon said that “different roads sometimes lead to the same castle”, he was hoping to see Arya again, the same way Sansa waited, wished and prayed for Robb to come rescue her from the Lannisters, during her time in King’s Landing after Ned’s death. And since George has used the same phrase while commenting the decision of the Show to put Sansa in the north playing the role of Jeyne Poole as Fake Arya, I believe that this is the reason for the change of Sansa’s storyline from the Books; so she could run to the Wall in order to reach Jon for help and shelter. I mean, I believe that in the Books, Sansa and Jon will be the first Starks to meet and be together again. I believe that Sansa will be the girl in grey on a dying horse of Melisandre’s vision:

Surprise made him recoil from her. "Lady Melisandre." He took a step backwards. "I mistook you for someone else." At night all robes are grey. Yet suddenly hers were red. He did not understand how he could have taken her for Ygritte. She was taller, thinner, older, though the moonlight washed years from her face. Mist rose from her nostrils, and from pale hands naked to the night. "You will freeze your fingers off," Jon warned. "If that is the will of R'hllor. Night's powers cannot touch one whose heart is bathed in god's holy fire."

"You heart does not concern me. Just your hands."

"The heart is all that matters. Do not despair, Lord Snow. Despair is a weapon of the enemy, whose name may not be spoken. Your sister is not lost to you."

"I have no sister." The words were knives. What do you know of my heart, priestess? What do you know of my sister?

Melisandre seemed amused. "What is her name, this little sister that you do not have?"

"Arya." His voice was hoarse. "My half-sister, truly …"

"… for you are bastard born. I had not forgotten. I have seen your sister in my fires, fleeing from this marriage they have made for her. Coming here, to you. A girl in grey on a dying horse, I have seen it plain as day. It has not happened yet, but it will."

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon VI

Meanwhile in The Vale:

There’s a new High Septon, did you know? Oh, and the Night's Watch has a boy commander, some bastard son of Eddard Stark’s.”

"Jon Snow?” she blurted out, surprised.

“Snow? Yes, it would be Snow, I suppose.”

She had not thought of Jon in ages. He was only her half brother, but still… with Robb and Bran and Rickon dead, Jon Snow was the only brother that remained to her. I am a bastard too now, just like him. Oh, it would be so sweet, to see him once again. But of course that could never be. Alayne Stone had no brothers, baseborn or otherwise.

—A Feast for Crows - Alayne II

So, we have Sansa in the south (which was nothing like she imagined it to be) waiting for Robb, her big brother, the trueborn, the Heir to Winterfell. And he never comes for her. When Sansa hears the news of his demise, she believes she has lost all her brothers, until she hears of her half brother Jon Snow. But she’s not a Stark by then, just a bastard girl in the Vale, who has no brothers, trueborn or otherwise.

On the other hand, we have Jon in the north, who has taken a vow to serve for life in the Night’s Watch (which was nothing like he imagined it to be), missing Arya, his beloved sister, madly. He even decided to forsake his oaths for her, which in turn caused his betrayal and stabbing by his brothers. And yet, it was all for naught, because, unbeknownst to him, the little sister he yearned for wasn’t even close to the Wall. Oh the irony...

If one believes in dramatic irony, it is that thoughtlessness in regards to each other (and possibly Sansa’s anvilicious “that could never be” when thinking about seeing [Jon] again) that gives them the best chances of being the first (if not only) Starks to reunite.

—blindestspot

YES, as Jon Snow is the silent, unknown and unthought answer to Sansa’s hopes. I think Sansa will be the half sister cousin he will meet again, because as Jon said himself: “different roads sometimes lead to the same castle”.

III. GOLDEN DRAGONS

As prosaic as it sounds, I’m going to talk about money. Golden dragons are the most valuable coins in Westeros.

Golden dragons are more frequently used by rich merchants and noble lords and ladies. Smallfolk, who do not have such riches, tend to exchange copper and silver coins, or turn to trade. The minting of the coins, exchange rates, and like matters are overseen by the master of coin.

The king's coinage is one of the most visible manifestations of royal authority. Golden dragons bear the face of the king in whose time they were minted in, as well as his name. On the other side, the golden dragon bear the three-headed Targaryen dragon. [x]

In the Books, the first time that Sansa is mentioned in relation to Dragons was when Queen Cersei offered a reward of a hundred golden dragons for Nymeria’s skin, after the direwolf bit Joffrey’s arm.

Nymeria accompanies Arya south on the journey to King's Landing. When Joffrey Baratheon and Sansa stumble upon Arya playing at swords with her friend Mycah by the Trident, Joffrey challenges Mycah to a duel, and cuts Mycah in the process. Joffrey refuses to relent which leads Arya to hit him with her stick. Joffrey attacks Arya with his sword, and Nymeria lunges at Joffrey and bites him. After letting him go, Arya and Nymeria flee. Fearing for Nymeria's life, Arya and Jory are forced to chase her away. [x]

Because Arya Stark's direwolf, Nymeria, attacks Prince Joffrey Baratheon along the banks of the Trident, Nymeria is ordered to be killed but she cannot be found. At Darry, the spiteful Queen Cersei Lannister orders Lady to be put down instead. In spite of Sansa's protests, her father Eddard Stark performs the execution himself, as is his custom and to spare Lady pain she might suffer if the royal executioner Ilyn Payne performs the deed. The trusting Lady does not sense Eddard's intention and is killed with a single blow of his greatsword, Ice. Eddard orders her body to be brought north and be buried in Winterfell. [x]

The passage in AGOT where Queen Cersei offers a sum of golden dragons for Nymeria’s skin is the following:

Robert started to walk away, but the queen was not done. “And what of the direwolf?” she called after him. “What of the beast that savaged your son?

"The king stopped, turned back, frowned. "I’d forgotten about the damned wolf." Ned could see Arya tense in Jory’s arms. Jory spoke up quickly. "We found no trace of the direwolf, Your Grace."

Robert did not look unhappy. "No? So be it.”

"The queen raised her voice. "A hundred golden dragons to the man who brings me its skin!”

“A costly pelt,” Robert grumbled. “I want no part of this, woman. You can damn well buy your furs with Lannister gold.”

The queen regarded him coolly. "I had not thought you so niggardly. The king I'd thought to wed would have laid a wolfskin across my bed before the sun went down."

Robert's face darkened with anger. "That would be a fine trick, without a wolf."

"We have a wolf," Cersei Lannister said. Her voice was very quiet, but her green eyes shone with triumph.

It took them all a moment to comprehend her words, but when they did, the king shrugged irritably. "As you will. Have Ser Ilyn see to it."

"Robert, you cannot mean this," Ned protested.

The king was in no mood for more argument. "Enough, Ned, I will hear no more. A direwolf is a savage beast. Sooner or later it would have turned on your girl the same way the other did on my son. Get her a dog, she'll be happier for it."

That was when Sansa finally seemed to comprehend. Her eyes were frightened as they went to her father. "He doesn't mean Lady, does he?" She saw the truth on his face. "No," she said. "No, not Lady, Lady didn't bite anybody, she's good …"

"Lady wasn't there," Arya shouted angrily. "You leave her alone!"

"Stop them," Sansa pleaded, "don't let them do it, please, please, it wasn't Lady, it was Nymeria, Arya did it, you can't, it wasn't Lady, don't let them hurt Lady, I'll make her be good, I promise, I promise …" She started to cry.

All Ned could do was take her in his arms and hold her while she wept. He looked across the room at Robert. His old friend, closer than any brother. "Please, Robert. For the love you bear me. For the love you bore my sister. Please."

The king looked at them for a long moment, then turned his eyes on his wife. "Damn you, Cersei," he said with loathing.

Ned stood, gently disengaging himself from Sansa's grasp. All the weariness of the past four days had returned to him. "Do it yourself then, Robert," he said in a voice cold and sharp as steel. "At least have the courage to do it yourself."

Robert looked at Ned with flat, dead eyes and left without a word, his footsteps heavy as lead. Silence filled the hall.

"Where is the direwolf?" Cersei Lannister asked when her husband was gone. Beside her, Prince Joffrey was smiling.

"The beast is chained up outside the gatehouse, Your Grace," Ser Barristan Selmy answered reluctantly.

"Send for Ilyn Payne."

"No," Ned said. "Jory, take the girls back to their rooms and bring me Ice." The words tasted of bile in his throat, but he forced them out. "If it must be done, I will do it."

Cersei Lannister regarded him suspiciously. "You, Stark? Is this some trick? Why would you do such a thing?"

They were all staring at him, but it was Sansa's look that cut. "She is of the north. She deserves better than a butcher."

He left the room with his eyes burning and his daughter's wails echoing in his ears, and found the direwolf pup where they chained her. Ned sat beside her for a while. "Lady," he said, tasting the name. He had never paid much attention to the names the children had picked, but looking at her now, he knew that Sansa had chosen well. She was the smallest of the litter, the prettiest, the most gentle and trusting. She looked at him with bright golden eyes, and he ruffled her thick grey fur.

Shortly, Jory brought him Ice.

When it was over, he said, "Choose four men and have them take the body north. Bury her at Winterfell.”

“All that way?” Jory said, astonished.

“All that way,” Ned affirmed. “The Lannister woman shall never have this skin.”

—A Game of Thrones - Eddard III

I have quoted the entire passage due to its instances of symbolic foreshadowing, which are very important in the support of the ideas I wish to expound in this post. Let’s see:

In the end Queen Cersei didn’t have to pay the hundred golden dragons she offered for Nymeria’s skin, because she turned her vengeance against Lady. And Sansa’s direwolf, despite her innocence, died to placate Cersei’s and Joffrey’s wrath.    

But I want to point out the reward Queen Cersei offered. She is a Lannister. House Lannister is very rich. Their unofficial motto is “A Lannister always pays his debts”, so the wealth of her house allows her to offer a huge amount of money for just a pelt; “A costly pelt” as King Robert said.

So, although not directly, this event is only the first time rich and powerful people offer golden dragons as a reward for Sansa Stark:    

“Lord Petyr,” Dontos called from the boat. “I must needs row back, before they think to look for me.

"Petyr Baelish put a hand on the rail. "But first you’ll want your payment. Ten thousand dragons, was it?”

“Ten thousand.” Dontos rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand. “As you promised, my lord.”

"Ser Lothor, the reward."

Lothor Brune dipped his torch. Three men stepped to the gunwale, raised crossbows, fired. One bolt took Dontos in the chest as he looked up, punching through the left crown on his surcoat. The others ripped into throat and belly. It happened so quickly neither Dontos nor Sansa had time to cry out. When it was done, Lothor Brune tossed the torch down on top of the corpse. The little boat was blazing fiercely as the galley moved away.

"You killed him." Clutching the rail, Sansa turned away and retched. Had she escaped the Lannisters to tumble into worse?

"My lady," Littlefinger murmured, "your grief is wasted on such a man as that. He was a sot, and no man's friend."

“But he saved me.”

“He sold you for a promise of ten thousand dragons. Your disappearance will make them suspect you in Joffrey’s death. The gold cloaks will hunt, and the eunuch will jingle his purse. Dontos … well, you heard him. He sold you for gold, and when he’d drunk it up he would have sold you again. A bag of dragons buys a man’s silence for a while, but a well-placed quarrel buys it forever.” He smiled sadly. “All he did he did at my behest. I dared not befriend you openly. When I heard how you saved his life at Joff’s tourney, I knew he would be the perfect catspaw.

"Sansa felt sick. "He said he was my Florian.”

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa V

The direwolf of every Stark child is a part of them, so just as Nymeria’s skin was “A costly pelt”, Sansa Stark herself was “A costly hostage” that became “A costly fugitive” valued in Lannister gold:  

“That’s too soon. You have me shut up here under guard, how am I to find witnesses to my innocence?”

“Your sister’s had no difficulty finding witnesses to your guilt.” Ser Kevan rolled up the parchment. “Ser Addam has men hunting for your wife. Varys has offered a hundred stags for word of her whereabouts, and a hundred dragons for the girl herself. If the girl can be found she will be found, and I shall bring her to you. I see no harm in husband and wife sharing the same cell and giving comfort to one another.”

—A Storm of Swords - Tyrion IX

Woman was marginally better than wench, she supposed. “You and good Ser Creighton have much in common, then.

"Ser Shadrich laughed. "Oh, I doubt that, but it may be that you and I share a quest. A little lost sister, is it? With blue eyes and auburn hair?” He laughed again. “You are not the only hunter in the woods. I seek for Sansa Stark as well.

"Brienne kept her face a mask, to hide her dismay. "Who is this Sansa Stark, and why do you seek her?”

“For love, why else?”

She furrowed her brow. “Love?"

"Aye, love of gold. Unlike your good Ser Creighton, I did fight upon the Blackwater, but on the losing side. My ransom ruined me. You know who Varys is, I trust? The eunuch has offered a plump bag of gold for this girl you’ve never heard of. I am not a greedy man. If some oversized wench would help me find this naughty child, I would split the Spider’s coin with her.”

—A Feast for Crows - Brienne I

“Perhaps you will try the melee instead?” Alayne suggested. The melee was an afterthought, a sop for all the brothers, uncles, fathers, and friends who had accompanied the competitors to the Gates of the Moon to see them win their silver wings, but there would be prizes for the champions, and a chance to win ransoms.

“A good melee is all a hedge knight can hope for, unless he stumbles on a bag of dragons. And that’s not likely, is it?” “I suppose not. But now you must excuse us, ser, we need to find my lord father.”

—The Winds of Winter - Alayne I

Even the honorable Brienne of Tarth used Lannister gold given by Jaime Lannister during her quest to find “her sister”, a certain beautiful highborn maid of three-and-ten that has blue eyes and auburn hair:

“Where?” Brienne slapped another silver stag down.

He flicked the coin back at her with his forefinger. “Someplace no stag ever found … though a dragon might.” Silver would not get the truth from him, she sensed. Gold might, or it might not. Steel would be more certain. Brienne touched her dagger, then reached into her purse instead. She found a golden dragon and put in on the barrel. “Where?”

(...)

“No, but I can take you to one.” The coin danced one way, and back the other.

“Take you to the Whispers, m'lady.

"Brienne did not like the way his fingers played with that gold coin. Still … "Six dragons if we find my sister. Two if we only find the fool. Nothing if nothing is what we find.

"Crabb shrugged. "Six is good. Six will serve.”

—A Feast for Crows - Brienne III

From this last quote I want to rescue this line: “Someplace no stag ever found… though a dragon might.” This words are talking about stags and dragons, not silver and gold, just the animals that the coins bare on one side. The stag is the sigil of House Baratheon and the dragon is the sigil of House Targaryen. And this makes me think about the Tourney at Ashford Meadow, where the first and the fifth of its final champions belonged to these houses. And according to this theory: “When you look at the names of the champions' families and the fact they fight for a 13 year old maid, especially with the family Hardyng, we find out that they correspond strongly with Sansa's suitors in A Song of Ice and Fire.”

So, following the pattern established by the five final champions of the Tourney at Ashford Meadow, I believe that the stag in this line represents Joffrey Baratheon (Sansa's first betrothed), while the Dragon who might find Sansa is Jon Snow, the Targaryen Champion (Sansa’s actual betrothed).This last idea is going to be developed throughout this post.

Now, back to Lady’s death. We know that this event is a turning point in Sansa’s arc, but other than that, the paragraphs leading to the direwolf’s execution are laden with symbolism and foreshadowing, not only for Sansa, but for Ned as well.

During the “trial”, Ned decides that he will take Lady’s life himself, in order to avoid having a butcher like Ilyn Payne do the execution. Then, before he struck, he pronounced her name in the same fashion Robb and Jon called the name of their direwolves before they both died. This for me foreshadows Ned’s own death. Also, before Lady’s death, Ned pleads King Robert to change his decision on putting down the direwolf, appealing to the memory of Lyanna, the woman Robert loved. Similarly, before Ned’s execution at the steps of the Sept of Baelor, Sansa pleads King Joffrey to spare her father’s life, appealing to the love he has for her. As we know, both pleas fell on deaf ears and both Lady and Ned lost their lives; bringing the story full circle, as Ilyn Payne himself cut off Ned’s head.

Another interesting thing is that before Lady’s death we have direct and indirect references to Lyanna Stark. We have the direct reference when Ned appealed to the love Robert Baratheon bore Lyanna, in order to save Lady’s life, and the indirect one when he ordered Jory to choose four men to return Lady’s body to the north, to bury her in Winterfell. This order Ned gave to his men alludes to his own decision to take Lyanna’s body to Winterfell to be buried in the crypts, after her demise, brought on by her doomed love affair with Rhaegar Targaryen. Again, here we have the two extremes of the pattern stablished by the final champions of the Tourney at Ashford Meadow: the beginning (the stag) and the end (the dragon) of Sansa’s possible romantic cycle. History repeats itself all the time in this universe, and with luck, certain twists could change the final outcome.

There are plenty more parallels between Lyanna, Sansa and at least one other lady before them, whose story included a Baratheon betrothed and a Targaryen Prince, and although this post is not the place to discuss them, just think about Duncan Targaryen, his betrothed Baratheon and Jenny of Oldstones, a story extremely similar to the one of Rhaegar Targaryen, Lyanna Stark and her betrothed Robert Baratheon: A Targaryen prince breaking an engagement with a member of House Baratheon that then originates a rebellion.  

Now think of this: Sansa was betrothed to Joffrey “Baratheon” and the engagement was broken in the middle of war with the north, sparked by Ned’s death. Robb Stark called the banners against King Joffrey in rebellion, while Jon almost broke his vows to join Robb’s army. What drove them to that point? The need to avenge Ned’s death and the at the same time rescue their sisters. All of which makes me think about these parallels: Sansa being a hostage in King’s Landing/Lyanna’s “abduction”, Ned’s death/Rickard’s death, Robb’s death/Brandon’s death. And that leaves Jon Snow to possibly play the role of Ned Stark in the future.  

As I said, history repeats itself all the time in this universe, and with luck, certain twists could change the final result. And I believe Sansa has a chance of change the many preceding sad patterns reflected in her story and she will compose her lucky song along with the help of Jon Snow.

Talking about luck and change in history, since Lady was part of Sansa, and her body, pelt and bones, now rest in Winterfell, just like Lyanna’s corpse, I believe Sansa is destined to return to the north as well. But unlike Lyanna and Lady, Sansa will return to the north alive (to meet Jon Snow) and she will make her life safe and happy within the walls of the ancestral seat of her family. And as Ned himself said: "She is of the north. She deserves better than a butcher." And we all know that Sansa already had enough butchers in her short life:   [Part 1] [Part 2].

Again, since Lady was part of Sansa, and Cersei never got her skin; I believe Cersei will never put her hands on Sansa again, no matter the amount of golden dragons she offers as a reward for her. Because as Ned said “The Lannister woman shall never have this skin.”

The moral of the fable here is that “Not all that glitters is gold”. Sansa fell blindly in love with the fake glitter of Joffrey and Cersei, the south and King’s Landing. And from the golden lions, the Queen and the Prince, she only received pain. They took Lady and Ned away from her. They treated her as a possession, as a prize, they valued her in golden dragons. And the south and King’s Landing only gave Sansa false friends and sadly, a long list of butchers instead of gallant true knights... AND SHE DESERVES BETTER!

While Sansa is in the south, we witness her objectification numerous times, by every character she interacts with. She’s not only being valued in golden dragons, she has been practically transformed into a stone castle, Winterfell, and the north itself, since the one controlling her would obtain all her lands and power. Or, to use the euphemism used in the Books, she is “the key to the north.”

Sansa reflects about this objectification in the Books and articulates inside her mind one of the saddest lines in ASOIAF, especially for a girl who yearns to be loved and always dreamed of getting married: “No one will ever marry me for love” (because everyone only wants her claim to Winterfell). But instead of Tyrion, Willas or even Robert, who pursue Sansa’s claim over her, unbeknownst to her, faraway, at the other part of the world, there is a man who has been offered Winterfell and choose her over it: “By right Winterfell should go to my sister Sansa.” “Winterfell belongs to my sister Sansa.” Among all the high lords interested in becoming the Lord of Winterfell by marrying Sansa Stark, the bastard Jon Snow refused to despoil his sister Sansa of her rights, even if her claim is the one thing he has wanted as much as he had ever wanted anything.

Sansa had to learn that “Not all that glitters is gold” in the cruelest of ways, by the harshest of teachers. Her innocence was taken away from her, but her wits and intuition got sharper and now she knows better.

The pale sunlight flashed off the golds and reds every time Joff moved. Bright, shining, and empty, Sansa thought.

—A Clash of Kings - Sansa V

Ser Harrold Hardyng looked every inch a lord-in-waiting; clean-limbed and handsome, straight as a lance, hard with muscle. Men old enough to have known Jon Arryn in his youth said Ser Harrold had his look, she knew. He had a mop of sandy blond hair, pale blue eyes, an aquiline nose. Joffrey was comely too, though, she reminded herself. A comely monster, that’s what he was. Little Lord Tyrion was kinder, twisted though he was.

—The Winds of Winter - Alayne I

As we can see, the external beauty of golden and gallant knights does not so easily impress Sansa anymore. After all, according to her previous experiences they are empty and hollow, despite appearing shiny and bright.

But there is hope for her to find a brave and gentle and strong man, someone who embodies all the qualities of a true knight, anointed or not; something that she always wanted but in a different way. She is done for good with golden knights, but what about a Black Knight, a Dragonknight?

They were inside a long gallery. Along the walls stood empty suits of armor, dark and dusty, their helms crested with rows of scales that continued down their backs. As they hurried past, the taper’s light made the shadows of each scale stretch and twist. The hollow knights are turning into dragons, she thought.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa V

‘Hollow knights turning into dragons’ make me thing about a change in Sansa’s taste in men, but maybe not a change to something new, but a change back to her first instincts regarding men. After all, this line is from the day she left King’s Landing, the day she started her journey back to the north, her journey back home. So there is hope, because a dragon is waiting for her in the north.

IV. THE WAY NORTH

If Lady’s death wasn’t enough to open Sansa’s eyes and see the true nature of Cersei and Joffrey, Ned’s death certainly was:

"I don't want to marry you," Sansa wailed. "You chopped off my father's head!"

"He was a traitor. I never promised to spare him, only that I'd be merciful, and I was. If he hadn't been your father, I would have had him torn or flayed, but I gave him a clean death."

Sansa stared at him, seeing him for the first time. He was wearing a padded crimson doublet patterned with lions and a cloth-of-gold cape with a high collar that framed his face. She wondered how she could ever have thought him handsome. His lips were as soft and red as the worms you found after a rain, and his eyes were vain and cruel. "I hate you," she whispered.

King Joffrey's face hardened. "My mother tells me that it isn't fitting that a king should strike his wife. Ser Meryn."

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa VI

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.

—A Clash of Kings - Sansa I

It is truly very interesting how Sansa’s first true impression of Joffrey is almost identical to Jon’s first impression of the crown prince. They even commented on Joffrey’s lips and eyes in the same manner:

Prince Joffrey had his sister's hair and his mother's deep green eyes. A thick tangle of blond curls dripped down past his golden choker and high velvet collar. Sansa looked radiant as she walked beside him, but Jon did not like Joffrey's pouty lips or the bored, disdainful way he looked at Winterfell's Great Hall.

—A Game of Thrones - Jon I

This ‘coincidence’ of impressions regarding Joffrey, makes me think that in the future, when Sansa and Jon meet again, for the first time, they would see the world through the same eyes. Sansa would even know by then what it means to be a bastard, thanks to her time as Alayne Stone.

Sadly, Ned’s death was the catalyst for Sansa to finally open her eyes to reality, but that event also awakened her inner ‘Starkness’, because if any of the Stark children is the epitome of endurance, that is Sansa. So, after Ned’s death, we see Sansa always finding her strength and courage in the memories of Winterfell and her family, yearning to go back to the north; back home:

The hot water made her think of Winterfell, and she took strength from that. She had not washed since the day her father died, and she was startled at how filthy the water became. Her maids sluiced the blood off her face, scrubbed the dirt from her back, washed her hair and brushed it out until it sprang back in thick auburn curls. Sansa did not speak to them, except to give them commands; they were Lannister servants, not her own, and she did not trust them.

— A Game of Thrones - Sansa VI

And to the north …

She turned that way, and saw only the city, streets and alleys and hills and bottoms and more streets and more alleys and the stone of distant walls. Yet she knew that beyond them was open country, farms and fields and forests, and beyond that, north and north and north again, stood Winterfell.

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa VI

"Loyal," the dwarf mused, "and far from any Lannisters. I can scarce blame you for that. When I was your age, I wanted the same thing." He smiled. "They tell me you visit the godswood every day. What do you pray for, Sansa?"

I pray for Robb's victory and Joffrey's death... and for home. For Winterfell. "I pray for an end to the fighting."

—A Clash of Kings - Sansa III

Sansa tried to run, but Cersei’s handmaid 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?

“Brave. Sansa took a deep breath. I am a Stark, yes, I can be brave.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa III

That was such a sweet dream, Sansa thought drowsily. She had been back in Winterfell, running through the godswood with her Lady. Her father had been there, and her brothers, all of them warm and safe. If only dreaming could make it so . . .

She threw back the coverlets. I must be brave. Her torments would soon be ended, one way or the other. If Lady was here, I would not be afraid. Lady was dead, though; Robb, Bran, Rickon, Arya, her father, her mother, even Septa Mordane. All of them are dead but me. She was alone in the world now.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa IV

Sansa was tempted to beg off. I could tell him that my tummy was upset, or that my moon’s blood had come. She wanted nothing more than to crawl back in bed and pull the drapes. I must be brave, like Robb, she told herself, as she took her lord husband stiffly by the arm.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa IV

The Broken Tower was easier still. They made a tall tower together, kneeling side by side to roll it smooth, and when they'd raised it Sansa stuck her fingers through the top, grabbed a handful of snow, and flung it full in his face. Petyr yelped, as the snow slid down under his collar. "That was unchivalrously done, my lady."

"As was bringing me here, when you swore to take me home."

She wondered where this courage had come from, to speak to him so frankly. From Winterfell, she thought. I am stronger within the walls of Winterfell.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa VII

As I said before, I believe Sansa is going to get back north, Lady is already there waiting for her. But how can Sansa find her way to the north? What will lead her there? Would you believe me if I told you that to get north you have to follow a dragon? But not any dragon, an Ice Dragon:

“Osha,” Bran asked as they crossed the yard. “Do you know the way north? To the Wall and … and even past?”

“The way’s easy. Look for the Ice Dragon, and chase the blue star in the rider’s eye.” She backed through a door and started up the winding steps.

“And there are still giants there, and … the rest … the Others, and the children of the forest too?”

"The giants I’ve seen, the children I’ve heard tell of, and the white walkers … why do you want to know?”

—A Clash of Kings - Bran V

When they lost their way, as happened once or twice, they need only wait for a clear cold night when the clouds did not intrude, and look up in the sky for the Ice Dragon. The blue star in the dragon’s eye pointed the way north, as Osha told him once. Thinking of Osha made Bran wonder where she was. He pictured her safe in White Harbor with Rickon and Shaggydog, eating eels and fish and hot crab pie with fat Lord Manderly. Or maybe they were warming themselves at the Last Hearth before the Greatjon’s fires. But Bran’s life had turned into endless chilly days on Hodor’s back, riding his basket up and down the slopes of mountains.

— A Storm of Swords - Bran II

At the north window, he leaned against the sill for a breath of the cold night air, hoping to catch a glimpse of Mad Prendos raising sail, but the sea seemed black and empty as far as the eye could see. Is she gone already? He could only pray that she was, and the boy with her. A half moon was sliding in and out amongst thin high clouds, and Davos could see familiar stars. There was the Galley, sailing west; there the Crone’s Lantern, four bright stars that enclosed a golden haze. The clouds hid most of the Ice Dragon, all but the bright blue eye that marked due north. The sky is full of smugglers’ stars. They were old friends, those stars; Davos hoped that meant good luck.

—A Storm of Swords - Davos VI

There is a slightly difference between how the constellation is described in Westeros and beyond the Wall. Osha said that the blue star is the rider’s eye, but Bran said that the blue star is the Ice Dragon’s eye. But I like the idea of a blue-eyed Ice Dragon rider better, for reasons…

But what exactly is an ‘Ice Dragon’, besides a constellation that marks the way north?

Of all the queer and fabulous denizens of the Shivering Sea, however, the greatest are the ice dragons. These colossal beasts, many times larger than the dragons of Valyria, are said to be made of living ice, with eyes of pale blue crystal and vast translucent wings through which the moon and stars can be glimpsed as they wheel across the sky. Whereas common dragons (if any dragon can truly be said to be common) breathe flame, ice dragons supposedly breathe cold, a chill so terrible that it can freeze a man solid in half a heartbeat.

Sailors from half a hundred nations have glimpsed these great beasts over the centuries, so mayhap there is some truth behind the tales. Archmaester Margate has suggested that many legends of the north—freezing mists, ice ships, Cannibal Bay, and the like—can be explained as distorted reports of ice-dragon activity. Though an amusing notion, and not without a certain elegance, this remains the purest conjecture. As ice dragons supposedly melt when slain, no actual proof of their existence has ever been found.

—The World of Ice and Fire - Beyond the Free Cities: The Shivering Sea

So, Ice Dragons are colossal beasts many times larger than dragons of Valyria. Did Rhaegar Targaryen know about theIce Dragons? Was he trying to create an ‘Ice Dragon’ by impregnating a maid from House Stark? Very interesting…

"As you wish," said Whitebeard. "As a young boy, the Prince of Dragonstone was bookish to a fault. He was reading so early that men said Queen Rhaella must have swallowed some books and a candle whilst he was in her womb. Rhaegar took no interest in the play of other children. The maesters were awed by his wits, but his father's knights would jest sourly that Baelor the Blessed had been born again. Until one day Prince Rhaegar found something in his scrolls that changed him. No one knows what it might have been, only that the boy suddenly appeared early one morning in the yard as the knights were donning their steel. He walked up to Ser Willem Darry, the master-at-arms, and said, 'I will require sword and armor. It seems I must be a warrior.'"

—A Storm of Swords - Daenerys I

Being “bookish to a fault”, Rhaegar probably knew about Ice Dragons, about The Pact of Ice and Fire, and about something else that connects all that with the prophecy of the prince that was promised. But the answer probably awaits in TWOW or ADOS.

Also very interesting that in ASOIAF, the Ice Dragon is mentioned nine times, six of these nine times in Jon’s chapters. Apparently Jon is a big fan of the Ice Dragon:

So many stars, he thought as he trudged up the slope through pines and firs and ash. Maester Luwin had taught him his stars as a boy in Winterfell; he had learned the names of the twelve houses of heaven and the rulers of each; he could find the seven wanderers sacred to the Faith; he was old friends with the Ice Dragon, the Shadowcat, the Moonmaid, and the Sword of the Morning. All those he shared with Ygritte, but not some of the others. We look up at the same stars, and see such different things.

—A Storm of Swords - Jon III

Thunder rumbled softly in the distance, but above him the clouds were breaking up. Jon searched the sky until he found the Ice Dragon, then turned the mare north for the Wall and Castle Black.

—A Storm of Swords - Jon V

The ice pressed close around them, and he could feel the cold seeping into his bones, the weight of the Wall above his head. It felt like walking down the gullet of an ice dragon. The tunnel took a twist, and then another. Pyp unlocked a second iron gate. They walked farther, turned again, and saw light ahead, faint and pale through the ice. That’s bad, Jon knew at once. That’s very bad.

—A Storm of Swords - Jon VIII

The wind was gusting, cold as the breath of the ice dragon in the tales Old Nan had told when Jon was a boy. The heavy cage was swaying. From time to time it scraped against the Wall, starting small crystalline showers of ice that sparkled in the sunlight as they fell, like shards of broken glass.

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon VII

The road beneath the Wall was as dark and cold as the belly of an ice dragon and as twisty as a serpent. Dolorous Edd led them through with a torch in hand. Mully had the keys for the three gates, where bars of black iron as thick as a man’s arm closed off the passage.

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon VIII

The snowfall was light today, a thin scattering of flakes dancing in the air, but the wind was blowing from the east along the Wall, cold as the breath of the ice dragon in the tales Old Nan used to tell. Even Melisandre’s fire was shivering; the flames huddled down in the ditch, crackling softly as the red priestess sang. Only Ghost seemed not to feel the chill.

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon X

Jon is also a big fan of various Targaryen heroes:  

Jon’s cup from the table, filled it fresh from a nearby pitcher, and drank down a long swallow.

“Daeron Targaryen was only fourteen when he conquered Dorne,” Jon said. The Young Dragon was one of his heroes.

“A conquest that lasted a summer,” his uncle pointed out. “Your Boy King lost ten thousand men taking the place, and another fifty trying to hold it. Someone should have told him that war isn’t a game.” He took another sip of wine. “Also,” he said, wiping his mouth, “Daeron Targaryen was only eighteen when he died. Or have you forgotten that part?”

—A Game of Thrones - Jon I

When Jon had been a boy at Winterfell, his hero had been the Young Dragon, the boy king who had conquered Dorne at the age of fourteen. Despite his bastard birth, or perhaps because of it, Jon Snow had dreamed of leading men to glory just as King Daeron had, of growing up to be a conqueror. Now he was a man grown and the Wall was his, yet all he had were doubts. He could not even seem to conquer those.

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon VII

Every morning they had trained together, since they were big enough to walk; Snow and Stark, spinning and slashing about the wards of Winterfell, shouting and laughing, sometimes crying when there was no one else to see. They were not little boys when they fought, but knights and mighty heroes. “I’m Prince Aemon the Dragonknight,” Jon would call out, and Robb would shout back, “Well, I’m Florian the Fool.” Or Robb would say, “I’m the Young Dragon,” and Jon would reply, “I’m Ser Ryam Redwyne.

"That morning he called it first. "I’m Lord of Winterfell!” he cried, as he had a hundred times before. Only this time, this time, Robb had answered, “You can’t be Lord of Winterfell, you’re bastard-born. My lady mother says you can’t ever be the Lord of Winterfell.”

—A Storm of Swords - Jon XII

I think that in those quotes the mention of Daeron Targaryen, The Young Dragon, is a foreshadowing of Robb becoming King in The North, a boy king called The Young Wolf who died, indeed, very young. So, maybe Jon could never be like The Young Dragon, but he could be his heir, because it is probable that Robb had named Jon his heir on his will. Jon is also the heir of Prince Rhaegar Targaryen, called The Last Dragon.

Sansa is also very fond of certain Targaryen hero: Prince Aemon the Dragonknight. She compared Joffrey with the Dragonknight in her first chapter in AGOT:

"It would be my pleasure, Mother," Joffrey said very formally. He took her by the arm and led her away from the wheelhouse, and Sansa's spirits took flight. A whole day with her prince! She gazed at Joffrey worshipfully. He was so gallant, she thought. The way he had rescued her from Ser Ilyn and the Hound, why, it was almost like the songs, like the time Serwyn of the Mirror Shield saved the Princess Daeryssa from the giants, or Prince Aemon the Dragonknight championing Queen Naerys's honor against evil Ser Morgil's slanders.

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa I

When she proclaimed her love to Joffrey, she compared her love to him with the love Queen Naerys felt for the Dragonknight:

“I love him, Father, I truly truly do, I love him as much as Queen Naerys loved Prince Aemon the Dragonknight, as much as Jonquil loved Ser Florian. I want to be his queen and have his babies.”

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa III

Even after her father’s death, she would seek for comfort in her favorites stories. One of them was the one of the valiant Dragonknight:

She pulled a chair close to the hearth, took down one of her favorite books, and lost herself in the stories of Florian and Jonquil, of Lady Shella and the Rainbow Knight, of valiant Prince Aemon and his doomed love for his brother’s queen.

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa IV

When she dreamed of traumatic events, she wished to be saved by the heroes from the songs, among them, the Dragonknight:

That night Sansa dreamed of the riot again. The mob surged around her, shrieking, a maddened beast with a thousand faces. Everywhere she turned she saw faces twisted into monstrous inhuman masks. She wept and told them she had never done them hurt, yet they dragged her from her horse all the same. "No," she cried, "no, please, don't, don't," but no one paid her any heed. She shouted for Ser Dontos, for her brothers, for her dead father and her dead wolf, for gallant Ser Loras who had given her a red rose once, but none of them came. She called for the heroes from the songs, for Florian and Ser Ryam Redwyne and Prince Aemon the Dragonknight, but no one heard.

—A Clash of Kings - Sansa IV

As you can see, another favorite hero of Sansa is Florian the Fool. But sadly, Robb who called out to be Florian the Fool during his trainings with Jon, failed in rescuing Sansa. In the same way, Ser Dontos Hollard who also claimed being Sansa’s Florian, also failed in rescuing her, he just handed her to another butcher.

But there is hope for Sansa to meet true knights in her life, even if her true knights happen to be a woman and a northern boy who doesn’t follow the Faith of the Seven. And here we have one of the greatest foreshadowings of the Books, delivered by none other than Queen Cersei herself:

"True knights would never harm women and children." The words rang hollow in her ears even as she said them.

"True knights." The queen seemed to find that wonderfully amusing. "No doubt you're right. So why don't you just eat your broth like a good girl and wait for Symeon Star-Eyes and Prince Aemon the Dragonknight to come rescue you, sweetling. I'm sure it won't be very long now."

—A Clash of Kings - Sansa V

So, who could it be Sansa’s Symeon Star-Eyes?

Symeon Star-Eyes is a legendary figure from the Age of Heroes who was blind. He is described in tales as a knight even though chivalry came to Westeros thousands of years after. According to legend, Symeon was a knight who lost both of his eyes. He replaced them by putting star sapphires in the empty sockets, or so the singers claim. He fought with a long staff with blades at both ends and would spin it in his hands to chop down two men at once. He once visited the Nightfort where he saw hellhounds fighting. [x]

I think the answer is Brienne of Tarth, a knight who is not really a knight with beautiful sapphire blue eyes, like the waters of her homeland, Tarth.

And who could it be Sansa’s Dragonknight?

“There was a black brother,” Sansa said, “begging men for the Wall, only he was kind of old and smelly.” She hadn’t liked that at all. She had always imagined the Night’s Watch to be men like Uncle Benjen. In the songs, they were called the black knights of the Wall. But this man had been crookbacked and hideous, and he looked as though he might have lice. If this was what the Night’s Watch was truly like, she felt sorry for her bastard half brother, Jon. “Father asked if there were any knights in the hall who would do honor to their houses by taking the black, but no one came forward, so he gave this Yoren his pick of the king’s dungeons and sent him on his way. And later these two brothers came before him, freeriders from the Dornish Marches, and pledged their swords to the service of the king. Father accepted their oaths …”

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa III

I believe the answer is Jon Snow. The Dragonknight and Jon Snow share many parallels: both second sons, both had a brother named Aegon, both were members of a lifetime order: Kingsguard & Night’s Watch, both wielded Valyrian steel swords: Dark Sister & Longclaw, both willing to defend their sisters from abusers. Also, and maybe the most important, both Targaryens. Besides, take note that Aemon the Dragonknight was Daeron Targaryen - The Young Dragon’s first cousin, just like Jon Snow was Robb Stark – The Young Wolf’s first cousin.

On top of all that, in its very unique way, the Show just confirmed that Brienne and Jon would play an important role helping Sansa in the future.

Back to Jon and dragons, he is certainly really fascinated by these creatures, he talks a lot about them, especially during his time in the Wall and beyond.

In summary, so far, we know that the way north is marked by the Ice Dragon and Jon Snow seems to be fascinated with the Ice Dragon. But note also that Jon Snow embodied the north in him, despite the fact of being a Targaryen.

Indeed, Jon is not only a ‘Snow’, he is the bastard of House Stark, the Wardens of the North. The Starks motto is “Winter is coming”. And, precisely Jon is always associated with snow (his surname and his -white as snow- direwolf Ghost); ice (The Wall); winter (Starks motto) and Winterfell, his home. He is the “Snow of Winterfell”:

The boy absorbed that all in silence. He had the Stark face if not the name: long, solemn, guarded, a face that gave nothing away. Whoever his mother had been, she had left little of herself in her son.

—A Game of Thrones - Tyrion II

She might have overlooked a dozen bastards for Ned’s sake, so long as they were out of sight. Jon was never out of sight, and as he grew, he looked more like Ned than any of the trueborn sons she bore him.

—A Game of Thrones - Catelyn II

“A shade more exhausting than needlework,” Jon observed.

“A shade more fun than needlework,” Arya gave back at him. Jon grinned, reached over, and messed up her hair. Arya flushed. They had always been close. Jon had their father’s face, as she did.

—A Game of Thrones - Arya I

Sansa could never understand how two sisters, born only two years apart, could be so different. It would have been easier if Arya had been a bastard, like their half brother Jon. She even looked like Jon, with the long face and brown hair of the Starks, and nothing of their lady mother in her face or her coloring.

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa I

“Who’s this one now?“ Craster said before Jon could go. “He has the look of a Stark.”

“My steward and squire, Jon Snow.”

—A Clash of Kings - Jon III

His northern features are the perfect disguise to hide his true parentage. He is acknowledged as a Stark just by looking at his face. He looks like a younger version of Ned.

Now let’s ask the following question: It is posible for Sansa to be attracted by a man with the Stark look?

As I said earlier, this line: ‘Hollow knights turning into dragons’, makes me thing about a change in Sansa’s taste in men, but maybe not a change to something new, but a change back to her first instincts regarding men. So, this is a good time to remind you all that Sansa’s first crush was a Brother of the Night’s Watch:

“Bronze Yohn knows me,” she reminded him. “He was a guest at Winterfell when his son rode north to take the black.” She had fallen wildly in love with Ser Waymar, she remembered dimly, but that was a lifetime ago, when she was a stupid little girl. “And that was not the only time. Lord Royce saw … he saw Sansa Stark again at King’s Landing, during the Hand’s tourney.”

—A Feast for Crows - Alayne I

And how does Ser Waymar Royce looked?

Ser Waymar Royce was the youngest son of an ancient house with too many heirs. He was a handsome youth of eighteen, grey-eyed and graceful and slender as a knife.

—A Game of Thrones - Prologue

Shall we see Jon Snow’s description now?

Jon's eyes were a grey so dark they seemed almost black, but there was little they did not see. He was of an age with Robb, but they did not look alike. Jon was slender where Robb was muscular, dark where Robb was fair, graceful and quick where his half brother was strong and fast.

—A Game of Thrones - Bran I

Sansa also compares and/or associates Bronze Yohn, Ser Waymar Royce’s Dad, with her own Dad, Ned:

Last of all came the Royces, Lord Nestor and Bronze Yohn. The Lord of Runestone stood as tall as the Hound. Though his hair was grey and his face lined, Lord Yohn still looked as though he could break younger men like twigs in those huge gnarled hands. His seamed and solemn face brought back all of Sansa’s memories of his time at Winterfell. She remembered him at table, speaking quietly with her mother. She heard his voice booming off the walls when he rode back from a hunt with a buck behind his saddle. She could see him in the yard, a practice sword in hand, hammering her father to the ground and turning to defeat Ser Rodrik as well. He will know me. How could he not? She considered throwing herself at his feet to beg for his protection. He never fought for Robb, why should he fight for me? The war is finished and Winterfell is fallen. “Lord Royce,” she asked timidly, “will you have a cup of wine, to take the chill off?”

Bronze Yohn had slate-grey eyes, half-hidden beneath the bushiest eyebrows she had ever seen. They crinkled when he looked down at her. “Do I know you, girl?”

—A Feast for Crows - Alayne I

See? Solemn faces and grey eyes. There is a pattern here: Waymar looks like a younger version of Bronze Yohn, just like Jon looks like a younger version of Ned. Sansa compares and/or associates the older men and the younger ones both ride north to the Wall and become Sworn Brothers of the Night’s Watch…

…And Sansa fell wildly in love with Ser Waymar, and Jon fell in love with a wildling girl kissed by fire…

…And guess how Sansa’s hair is described???  

“A shade more exhausting than needlework,” Jon observed.

“A shade more fun than needlework,” Arya gave back at him. Jon grinned, reached over, and messed up her hair. Arya flushed. They had always been close. Jon had their father’s face, as she did. They were the only ones. Robb and Sansa and Bran and even little Rickon all took after the Tullys, with easy smiles and fire in their hair. When Arya had been little, she had been afraid that meant that she was a bastard too. It had been Jon she had gone to in her fear, and Jon who had reassured her.

—A Game of Thrones - Arya I

See? Fire in her hair.

Fire in her hair.

FIRE IN HER HAIR.

OH GEORGE!

Besides all that, take note that Sansa, before she met Yoren, had always imagined the Night’s Watch to be men like her Uncle Benjen -who had the Stark look-. She recalled that in the songs, they were called the black knights of the Wall. That is to say, Sansa had a high regard for the men who take the black and associated them with her beloved knights from the songs.  

And finally, let’s ask this question as well: It is posible for Jon to be attracted by a womanlike Sansa? I firmly believe that the answer is YES!

As Bran pointed out, there was little Jon’s eyes did not see. Jon was able to describe exactly what Sansa was feeling while walking inside Winterfell’s Great Hall beside Joffrey: “Sansa looked ‘radiant’ as she walked beside him” Jon thought; and after all, back then, Sansa thought this about Joffrey: “He was all she ever dreamt her prince should be, tall and handsome and strong, with hair like gold.” Jon could sense Sansa’s emotions regarding Joffrey even if those emotions displeased him, because Jon was also able to clearly see Joffrey’s true nature: “but Jon did not like Joffrey’s pouty lips or the bored, disdainful way he looked at Winterfell’s Great Hall.”

As observant as Jon is, he knows Sansa very well, even if they are not close; and I believe that Jon also knows a lot about Sansa due to Arya. In fact, Jon appreciates many of Sansa’s traits, which others seem to dismiss as stupid [1] [2] [3]: her innocence, her singing, her courteous nature, her love for pretty things, and her naive belief in romantic stories:

The pale pink light of dawn sparkled on branch and leaf and stone. Every blade of grass was carved from emerald, every drip of water turned to diamond. Flowers and mushrooms alike wore coats of glass. Even the mud puddles had a bright brown sheen. Through the shimmering greenery, the black tents of his brothers were encased in a fine glaze of ice.

So there is magic beyond the Wall after all. He found himself thinking of his sisters, perhaps because he'd dreamed of them last night. Sansa would call this an enchantment, and tears would fill her eyes at the wonder of it, but Arya would run out laughing and shouting, wanting to touch it all.

—A Clash of Kings - Jon III

"Gilly, he called me. For the gillyflower."

"That's pretty." He remembered Sansa telling him once that he should say that whenever a lady told him her name. He could not help the girl, but perhaps the courtesy would please her. "Is it Craster who frightens you, Gilly?"

—A Clash of Kings - Jon III

He thought of Robb, with snowflakes melting in his hair. Kill the boy and let the man be born. He thought of Bran, clambering up a tower wall, agile as a monkey. Of Rickon's breathless laughter. Of Sansa, brushing out Lady's coat and singing to herself. You know nothing, Jon Snow. He thought of Arya, her hair as tangled as a bird's nest. I made him a warm cloak from the skins of the six whores who came with him to Winterfell … I want my bride back … I want my bride back … I want my bride back …

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon XIII

So, YES, I firmly believe that a man like Jon, lacking and in need of the sweetness of a woman, could easily fall for a loving creature like Sansa. There’s also the red hair issue featuring Catelyn and Ygritte.

Jon and Sansa also share the dream of rebuild Winterfell and the Stark dynasty by having children with the names of their beloved father and siblings.

See? They are destined to meet again in the north and help each other to slay their enemies and achieve their dreams together.

[x]

V. BETROTHED TO THE DRAGON’S HEIR*

(*Although is not confirmed in the Books yet, from now on I’m going to assume openly that R+L=J is true and also that Jon possibly is Rhaegar’s -trueborn- son)

Now we just got to the part that makes me decide to write this post. Because while I was searching for any connections between Sansa and dragons I found a passage that contains a huge foreshadowing of ‘Sansa being the betrothed of the dragon’s heir’. And this foreshadowing could be the confirmation of the fifth Sansa’s betrothed being a member of House Targaryen, according to the Theory of the Tourney at Ashford Meadow.

As I said before, following the pattern stablished by the five final champions of the Tourney at Ashford Meadow, Sansa Stark first betrothed would be a man of House Baratheon, as it actually was. Joffrey Baratheon was Sansa’s first betrothed. And Sansa’s fifth betrothed would be a Prince of House Targaryen. And I believe that man would be Jon Snow.

Let’s go back to this line: “Someplace no stag ever found… though a dragon might.” In the text the word ‘someplace’ refers to where Brienne’s supposed “sister” is -the beautiful highborn maid of three-and-ten that has blue eyes and auburn hair-. But in the history of ASOIAF universe, the word ‘someplace’ could also refer to the heart of a Stark girl.

Joffrey and Jon, Jon and Joffrey. I have a theory about them, I called it the ‘JoJo Theory’. Maybe one day I will turn my thoughts on them into words. But for now, let’s talk about these two in relation to Sansa.

Joffrey and Jon are supposed to be the sons of two best friends: Robert Baratheon and Ned Stark respectively. But none of them are really that. And I think they both were living the other’s life. I mean, Joffrey took Jon’s real place in the world, as Jon took Joffrey’s.  

Joffrey, who is supposed to be the trueborn son and heir of King Robert Baratheon, is truly a little shit bastard, the illegitimate child of Jaime Lannister. And he is the vicious, despicable type of bastard as well.

On the other hand, Jon who is suppose to be the baseborn son of Ned Stark, is actually the son of Prince Rhaegar Targaryen and the last Targaryen heir to the Iron Throne. And he is the very opposite of the vicious, despicable Joffrey. Jon is brave and has a noble heart.

Also note that the real fathers of Joffrey and Jon are the men who Cersei and Lyanna choose over Robert; that is to say: Jaime and Rhaegar.

So, reading again this line: “Someplace no stag ever found… though a dragon might.”, we know that in the past that line was true, as Robert Baratheon never found his way to Lyanna Stark’s heart unlike Prince Rhaegar Targaryen. And it could be true again, in the future, as Joffrey (no stag) never really found his way to Sansa’s heart, but Jon (who is also a dragon) might do. Let’s see:  

His half sisters escorted the royal princes. Arya was paired with plump young Tommen, whose white-blond hair was longer than hers. Sansa, two years older, drew the crown prince, Joffrey Baratheon. He was twelve, younger than Jon or Robb, but taller than either, to Jon's vast dismay. Prince Joffrey had his sister's hair and his mother's deep green eyes. A thick tangle of blond curls dripped down past his golden choker and high velvet collar. Sansa looked radiant as she walked beside him, but Jon did not like Joffrey's pouty lips or the bored, disdainful way he looked at Winterfell's Great Hall.

—A Game of Thrones - Jon I

Jon was obviously jealous of Joffrey, in the same fashion he was of Robb. Joffrey was ‘trueborn’, a royal prince, the heir of the Iron Throne, with a place of honor at the table just below the dais where the King and Queen were seated, handsome, taller than him despite being younger, and on top of all that, Joffrey got the beautiful radiant girl by his side. Jon just couldn’t believe why, while having all of that, Joffrey and his pouty wormy lips gave Winterfell’s Great Hall a bored and disdainful look.  

You don’t believe Jon was jealous of Joffrey? Read this then:

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

"I remember."

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

—A Storm of Swords - Jon

I know that in this scene, Jon was trying to convince Mance that he really wanted to join the freefolk. He was trying to deceive him and infiltrate into the enemy’s camp. Despite that, the things Jon said to Mance at that moment, rang true. So in the end, Jon did convince Mance and he ended up joining the freefolk, as a covert mission entrusted to him by Qhorin Halfhand.

Still you don’t believe me when I said Jon was jealous of Joffrey? Listen to Sansa herself then:

"What did you think of Prince Joff, sister? He's very gallant, don't you think?"

"Jon says he looks like a girl," Arya said.

Sansa sighed as she stitched. "Poor Jon," she said. "He gets jealous because he's a bastard."

"He's our brother," Arya said, much too loudly. Her voice cut through the afternoon quiet of the tower room.

—A Game of Thrones, Arya I

Now tell me that Jon saying that ‘Joffrey looks like a girl’ is not proof enough of Jon Snow being obviously jealous of the crown prince.

But Jon Snow who knows nothing, except, maybe, that Joffrey is truly a little shit, has no idea that Joffrey was living his life.

And his sisters cousins, Sansa and Arya, unbeknownst to him, expose this truth to Ned while talking about Joffrey’s hair color (note that Ned always knew who Jon’s real father is):  

“Father, I only just now remembered, I can’t go away, I’m to marry Prince Joffrey.” She tried to smile bravely for him. “I love him, Father, I truly truly do, I love him as much as Queen Naerys loved Prince Aemon the Dragonknight, as much as Jonquil loved Ser Florian. I want to be his queen and have his babies.”

“Sweet one,” her father said gently, “listen to me. 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. This match with Joffrey was a terrible mistake. That boy is no Prince Aemon, you must believe me.”

“He is!" Sansa insisted. "I don’t want someone brave and gentle, I want him. We’ll be ever so happy, just like in the songs, you’ll see. I’ll give him a son with golden hair, and one day he’ll be the king of all the realm, the greatest king that ever was, as brave as the wolf and as proud as the lion.

"Arya made a face. "Not if Joffrey’s his father,” she said. “He’s a liar and a craven and anyhow he’s a stag, not a lion.”

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa III

"All three are Jaime's," he said. It was not a question.

"Thank the gods."

The seed is strong, Jon Arryn had cried on his deathbed, and so it was. All those bastards, all with hair as black as night. Grand Maester Malleon recorded the last mating between stag and lion, some ninety years ago, when Tya Lannister wed Gowen Baratheon, third son of the reigning lord. Their only issue, an unnamed boy described in Malleon's tome as a large and lusty lad born with a full head of black hair, died in infancy. Thirty years before that a male Lannister had taken a Baratheon maid to wife. She had given him three daughters and a son, each black-haired. No matter how far back Ned searched in the brittle yellowed pages, always he found the gold yielding before the coal.

"A dozen years," Ned said. "How is it that you have had no children by the king?"

—A Game of Thrones - Eddard XII

I can clearly imagine Ned thinking about how he had to hide Jon Snow, the heir of the Last Dragon, as his bastard; while Joffrey, an actual bastard, was living the life that could have been Jon’s, had Rhaegar prevailed over Robert. 

This kind of ‘switched at birth’ case between Jon and Joffrey and the possibility of Jon being Sansa’s fifth Targaryen betrothed, is actually foreshadowed in the Books. Let’s read this passage from Sansa’s first chapter in ACOK:

The morning of King Joffrey’s name day dawned bright and windy, with the long tail of the great comet visible through the high scuttling clouds. Sansa was watching it from her tower window when Ser Arys Oakheart arrived to escort her down to the tourney grounds. “What do you think it means?” she asked him.

“Glory to your betrothed,” Ser Arys answered at once. "See how it flames across the sky today on His Grace’s name day, as if the gods themselves had raised a banner in his honor. The smallfolk have named it King Joffrey’s Comet.”

Doubtless that was what they told Joffrey; Sansa was not so sure. “I’ve heard servants calling it the Dragon’s Tail.”

“King Joffrey sits where Aegon the Dragon once sat, in the castle built by his son,” Ser Arys said. “He is the dragon’s heir—and crimson is the color of House Lannister, another sign. This comet is sent to herald Joffrey’s ascent to the throne, I have no doubt. It means that he will triumph over his enemies.

"Is it true? she wondered. Would the gods be so cruel? Her mother was one of Joffrey’s enemies now, her brother Robb another. Her father had died by the king’s command. Must Robb and her lady mother die next? The comet was red, but Joffrey was Baratheon as much as Lannister, and their sigil was a black stag on a golden field. Shouldn’t the gods have sent Joff a golden comet?

— A Clash of Kings - Sansa I

See? From “Glory to your betrothed,” to “King Joffrey sits where Aegon the Dragon once sat, in the castle built by his son” “He is the dragon’s heir” Every word from Arys Oakheart’s mouth evokes Jon, not Joffrey. Joffrey is not a dragon, far less the dragon’s heir; he’s not even a stag.

If Joffrey had truly been the son of Robert Baratheon, he indeed would have had a bit of Targaryen blood, because Robert’s grandmother was the Princess Rhaelle Targaryen, but that’s not the case.  

And the red comet could never be ‘Joffrey’s Comet’ as Sansa correctly pointed out when she said: “Shouldn’t the gods have sent Joff a golden comet?” The servants were right; the red comet was related to dragons, just as the person who knows everything in ASOIAF stated emphatically:  

Bran asked Septon Chayle about the comet while they were sorting through some scrolls snatched from the library fire. "It is the sword that slays the season,” he replied, and soon after the white raven came from Oldtown bringing word of autumn, so doubtless he was right.

Though Old Nan did not think so, and she’d lived longer than any of them. “Dragons,” she said, lifting her head and sniffing. She was near blind and could not see the comet, yet she claimed she could smell it. “It be dragons, boy,” she insisted. Bran got no princes from Nan, no more than he ever had.

Hodor said only, “Hodor.” That was all he ever said.

—A Clash of Kings - Bran I

Sadly the last part of this passage from Sansa’s first chapter in ACOK, also foreshadowed the Red Wedding. The Lannisters once more would take her family from her; this time Catelyn and Robb.

But let's stick with the good part, the part where she is called the betrothed of the dragon’s heir, that is not Joffrey, but Jon Snow, her own Dragonknight, her Black Knight of the Wall, her dark haired prince hiding in the north. We can only hope that this time the betrothal will end in a real marriage, because Sansa’s betrothal record isn’t so good thus far:

Joffrey Baratheon (the Psychopath Bastard), the betrothal was broken.

Willas Tyrell (the Cripple), the betrothal was cancelled.

Tyrion Lannister (the Imp), the marriage was not consummated.

Harrold Hardying (the Arse), the betrothal still stands but the bride is Alayne Stone.

Jon Snow (is dead but on the third day he will rise again from the dead).

But against the odds, I believe Sansa will wear a Targaryen Cloak, and under that protection, she will slay her enemies.  

VI. A TARGARYEN CLOAK

As I mentioned before, in the Books Sansa is in the Vale in the guise of Alayne Stone, eating lemony lemony lemon cakes and trying to charm, entice and bewitch Harry the Arse the Heir, her fourth betrothed:

Harrold Hardyng, often called Harry the Heir and sometimes the Young Falcon, is a gallant, handsome squire, and a ward of Lady Anya Waynwood. He is the heir presumptive of Lord Robert Arryn and would ascend to rule the Vale as "Harrold Arryn" should Lord Robert die without issue. [x]

The Arryn sigil is a sky-blue falcon soaring against a white moon on a sky-blue field. [x]

Shortly before Sansa found out about her fourth betrothal, while observing a blue falcon, she wished she had wings, but not precisely falcon wings; she just wanted to fly from her tower/cage and be free:

A falcon soared above the frozen waterfall, blue wings spread wide against the morning sky. Would that I had wings as well.

—A Feast for Crows - Alayne I

Unbeknownst to Sansa, she is imagined by the smallfolk as a ‘winged wolf’ who freed herself from her captors and flew away:

“What wife?”

“I forgot, you’ve been hiding under a rock. The northern girl. Winterfell’s daughter. We heard she killed the king with a spell, and afterward changed into a wolf with big leather wings like a bat, and flew out a tower window. But she left the dwarf behind and Cersei means to have his head.”

That’s stupid, Arya thought. Sansa only knows songs, not spells, and she’d never marry the Imp.

—A Storm of Swords - Arya XIII

Big leather wings reminds me of dragons instead of bats, and I think that was George’s intention, he was subtly referring to dragon’s wings:

“Tell me how my child died.”

“He never lived, my princess. The women say …” 

(…)

“They say the child was …”

(…)

“Monstrous,” Mirri Maz Duur finished for him. The knight was a powerful man, yet Dany understood in that moment that the maegi was stronger, and crueler, and infinitely more dangerous. “Twisted. I drew him forth myself. He was scaled like a lizard, blind, with the stub of a tail and small leather wings like the wings of a bat. When I touched him, the flesh sloughed off the bone, and inside he was full of graveworms and the stink of corruption. He had been dead for years.

—A Game of Thrones - Daenerys IX

In the center of the Plaza of Pride stood a red brick fountain whose waters smelled of brimstone, and in the center of the fountain a monstrous harpy made of hammered bronze. Twenty feet tall she reared. She had a woman’s face, with gilded hair, ivory eyes, and pointed ivory teeth. Water gushed yellow from her heavy breasts. But in place of arms she had the wings of a bat or a dragon, her legs were the legs of an eagle, and behind she wore a scorpion’s curled and venomous tail.

—A Storm of Swords - Daenerys II

So, the fascinating image of Sansa as a wolf with big leather wings created by George in ASOS, for me is a foreshadowing of her, in the future, wearing a Targaryen Cloak.

VII. THE PRINCE THAT WAS PROMISED BY NED

When Ned told Sansa that her betrothal to Joffrey was a terrible mistake, he also promised to make a better match for her:

“Father, I only just now remembered, I can’t go away, I’m to marry Prince Joffrey.” She tried to smile bravely for him. “I love him, Father, I truly truly do, I love him as much as Queen Naerys loved Prince Aemon the Dragonknight, as much as Jonquil loved Ser Florian. I want to be his queen and have his babies.”

“Sweet one,” her father said gently, “listen to me. 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. This match with Joffrey was a terrible mistake. That boy is no Prince Aemon, you must believe me.”

“He is!" Sansa insisted. "I don’t want someone brave and gentle, I want him. We’ll be ever so happy, just like in the songs, you’ll see. I’ll give him a son with golden hair, and one day he’ll be the king of all the realm, the greatest king that ever was, as brave as the wolf and as proud as the lion.” 

Arya made a face. "Not if Joffrey’s his father,” she said. “He’s a liar and a craven and anyhow he’s a stag, not a lion.”

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa III

It is very probable that Ned was not thinking about Jon Snow when she promised someone brave and gentle and strong for Sansa. But the mentioned qualities certainly suit Jon very well. And the mention of Prince Aemon the Dragonknight with all the parallels shared with Jon, make me think of no other than him.

Also, please read these quotes:

"You said you'd help me," Gilly reminded him.

"I said Jon would help you. Jon's brave, and he's a good fighter, but I think he's dead now. I'm a craven. And fat. Look how fat I am. Besides, Lord Mormont's hurt. Can't you see? I couldn't leave the Lord Commander."

"Child," said the other old woman, "that old crow's gone before you. Look."

—A Storm of Swords - Samwell II

Jon is brave, a good fighter and willing to help women and children in need, in other words, the epitome of chivalry.

"My father once told me that some men are not worth having," Jon finished. "A bannerman who is brutal or unjust dishonors his liege lord as well as himself."

"Craster is his own man. He has sworn us no vows. Nor is he subject to our laws. Your heart is noble, Jon, but learn a lesson here. We cannot set the world to rights. That is not our purpose. The Night's Watch has other wars to fight."

Other wars. Yes. I must remember. "Jarman Buckwell said I might have need of my sword soon."

—A Clash of Kings - Jon III

Jon is not only brave and a good fighter; he also has a noble heart and pursues justice, in other words, a man who is worthy.  

"Swimming? In the storm?" She laughed at the notion. "Is this a trick t' get the clothes off me, Jon Snow?"

"Do I need a trick for that now?" he teased. "Or is that you can't swim a stroke?" Jon was a strong swimmer himself, having learned the art as a boy in Winterfell's great moat.

Ygritte punched his arm. "You know nothing, Jon Snow. I'm half a fish, I'll have you know."

—A Storm of Swords - Jon V

Jon is strong, a strong swimmer. Have you seen the bodies of the swimmers during the Olympics??? He also likes girls kissed by fire with fire in their hair and that are half a fish… See? There is a pattern here: Catelyn, Ygritte… Sansa… OH GEORGE!

Who would be better for Sansa than a man who was raised by her own father? Also, take into account that our good old Ned Stark always, always, always kept his promises, no matter what, and not even the death could prevent him from keeping his word.

And just imagine how Sansa would feel/react when she finds out that:

Jon beheaded Janos Slynt.

Jon refused Stannis’ offer to get legitimized as Jon Stark and be named Lord of Winterfell, because he did not want to despoil her of her rights.

Jon fondly imagined her amazement should she gaze upon the magic beyond The Wall.

Jon put in practice her lessons about being courteous with girls.

Jon lovingly remembered how she’d brush out Lady's coat, singing to herself, before he died.

Jon was jealous of Joffrey because she looked radiant walking beside that little shit.

Jon had a wildling girlfriend with fire in her hair that was half a fish.

***FAITH IN MEN RESTORED***

I rest my case.

[beauzilr336-blog]

Anxiety: Feeling More Than Simply Bla'se' Fair

"I have the benefit, as a doctor, of meeting with women in my workplace every day to talk about symptoms and concerns related to the natural aging procedure. The consultations that I provide can enter lots of instructions whether it hormonal agents, emotions, physical requirements, or psychological needs. I ought to also preface this post by saying that these ladies I meet services in every walk of life and are in every phase of life from young to old. I offer care to executives, local celebs, healthcare providers, school instructors, stay-at-home mommies, ministry better halves, building and construction workers, and almost any function you can envision. After years of doing this, I can say without a doubt that nobody, despite professional status or responsibility, is exempt from the effect of anxiety. Each time I do an assessment, I constantly touch on the concern of anxiety and anxiety to fully assess the factors for different issues. The ""cause"" of depression is in some cases recognizable, however frequently is not. For some, depression can be explained as an intrinsic propensity to depression due to a strong family history of the disorder; for others it's induced by tension and psychological injury; for others it's a slow downward decrease due to unhealthy relationships and bad social media networks; for others it's the consistent sensations of failure or not meeting expectations; and for others it's due to endocrine and biological shifts of the body due to some other illness state. The reality is that whatever the cause, the results can be significant and lasting for some women who battle with clinical depression.

These are the hardcore stats about anxiety so you have an understanding of how considerable this is:

- The World Health Organization identified anxiety as the 3rd most important cause of disease burden worldwide in 2004, and it is approximated that, internationally, depression will be the second leading cause of special needs by the end of 2020.

- In the U.S., depression is the most common kind of mental disorder (affecting 26% of grownups).

- Ladies experience anxiety two times more than males.

- Bringing the stats ""closer to house"" (so to speak), I did an audit of charts that I keep in the office and realized that 88% of my clients reacted ""Yes! I have experienced depression"". Twenty-five percent mentioned they had actually experienced it one or two times in their life. Twenty-three percent stated they experienced anxiety once or twice a year.

- Then to bring it ""actually near to home"", I found that anxiety amongst those that I occur to understand are in ministry (or simply ministry partners) experienced a typical age onset of anxiety in their early thirties. That's our YOUNG WOMEN in MINISTRY. WOW!!! The bulk experienced depression at or near 5 to 6 years in their ministry profession. Mentoring young women in ministry are clearly needed and crucial. The first five years have a SUBSTANTIAL impact psychologically for those starting their journey in ministry.

What should a lady do if she has constant feelings of depression?

Talk with your partner, talk with your most trusted mentor or good friend, and go see your physician. One of the most significant mistakes made by well-meaning individuals is to provide someone who is crying out for help the old ""it'll get better"" pat of dismissal on the shoulder. That, sadly, is often what takes place when someone tries to reveal the sensations of being children in care transport in a deep blue sea fair state. Many women and particularly young women become puzzled that anxiety is a state of weak point and find themselves extremely vulnerable in reaching out because of the viewpoints and recommended antidotes of others. Or, they simply quickly realize that it's the ""thing I dare not speak of"" because of the actions of the past. If there is something I've found out over the years, it is to take these discussions about anxiety very seriously and ask the ideal questions to direct each female, as a specific, towards the proper help. Frequently having an outlet to share feelings and disappointments is all that is required (along with excellent research studies of the Word obviously), but constantly bear in mind that from time to time, there requires to be medical intervention.

In covering this up, I want to end on the power that faith keeps in the battle with depression. Maybe it's more easy to understand to explain the impact of a manipulated perspective in this way. I once had a restroom scale that was certainly broken and unreliable. I could step on the scale and it would show 108 pounds. That seemed terrific till my seven-year-old child and my spouse each stepped on it and it exposed the precise same number. The scale was clearly broken, however I believe we as ladies wish to utilize a malfunctioning scale to determine our status in life. Plain and basic, you can't utilize society's undependable ""self-regard"" scale to figure out YOUR own self-regard. I constantly inform ladies not to get their hands captured in the contrast trap. It will fracture you and your spirit in a heart beat. The scripture is clear on the reality that we are each highly preferred by God. No doubt, our earthly life will bring with its trials, temptations, loss, and in some cases defeat, but God's view people does not change and is not defective in any way. The bible says that He is the magnificence and the lifter of our heads. (Ps. 3:3) There will be times when we need to utilize the scripture to re-evaluate and re-calibrate our view of ourselves.

I want to inform you what God has to say about you (By the way, His scale is never broken).

Mark: we are to be believers and not doubters.

John: Christ's pal, designated, and a recipient.

Romans: Justified, redeemed, without regret, and holy

Corinthians: A new production, fixed up.

Ephesians: blessed selected, redeemed, forgiven, God's workmanship

Timothy: conserved and called

Peter: a living stone, developed, chosen, royal, God's own, and a partaker.

Each people might state that ""He loves me the most!"" and we would be right. I strongly think that God is our ultimate Source and we constantly need to be wanting to Him. I likewise believe that he has called and equipped pastors, leaders, coaches, and health care specialists to minister to others who require a helping hand and a gracious heart as they struggle through the anxiety. I believe it's the time we become sensitive to others and especially to those that are more youthful in ministry. Our actions and suggestions could mean all the difference ""IN THE WORLD"". Actually."

[pencilkey]

Zodiac: Cancer (Cancerain)

Quote: I Nurture

Symbol: The Crab

Element: Water

Quality: Cardinal

Color(s): White, Silver, Pastels, Blue, Puce

Best Day(s): Monday, Thursday

Ruling Planet: Moon

The Most Compatible Signs: Taurus, Cancer, Virgo, Scorpio, Pisces, Capricorn

The Least Compatible Signs: Aquarius, Aries, Libra, Sagittarius

Lucky Numbers: 2, 3, 5, 9, 15, 20, 48

Birthstones: Moonstone, Pearl, Emerald, Ruby

Date Range: June 21st - July 22nd Strengths: Tenacious, Highly imaginative, Loyal, Emotional, Sympathetic, Persuasive, Protective

Weaknesses: Moody, Pessimistic, Suspicious, Manipulative, Insecure, Emotionally Sensitive, Cranky, Unpredictable

Likes: Hobbies, Romance, Children, Home and Country, Parties, Art, Relaxing near or in water, Helping loved ones, A good meal with friends

Dislikes: Strangers, Any criticism of Mom or Lover, Revealing of personal life, Aggravating situations, Failure, Opposition, Being told what to do, Advice (good or bad)

Bio:

The fourth sign of the zodiac is Cancer (June 21st - July 22nd ) and it is represented by the crab. Appropriately enough, Cancerians can seem easygoing, sympathetic, and patient one minute, then cranky and irritable the next. Because of this ability to make a sudden change, Cancer is the least predictable of all signs.

They are ruled by the moon and have water as their element, so their mood swings can be compared to the turbulence of the shifting tides. If they feel they need to, they will retreat to their own emotional shell to keep others out. This is why it can very hard to talk to a Cancerian about their personal problems, because they choose to try and solve it themselves instead of seeking help, out of fear that they may drive away, or annoy people with their problems.  However, Cancerians can be very sympathetic to others and readily show their affection. Cancerians are also very emotional and sensitive, which may be why they are so empathetic towards others.

Cancerians need a lot of attention due to their unpredictable character, but if you give them the support they need, they will offer you their undying loyalty and love. Once you have won their trust, nothing anyone else can say or do will sway them against you.

Dating a Cancer:

If you wish to date a Cancerian, there are some key things you’ll want to know. Cancer is a very emotional sign, and feelings are the most important thing in their relationships. Gentle and caring, they will show their sensibility to the world without even thinking they might get hurt. For partners, they always choose a person who is able to understand them through non-verbal, silent contact, and a shared daily routine, and their affection won't last long with superficial, flaky or unreliable partners. The lack of initiative these individuals suffer from won't make it easy for them to build a sex life they wish for, if they don't find a partner who is able to make them feel calm, protected, and free to express. Any lack of emotion will make people appear heartless to them, and this can cause them to shut people out of their lives entirely.

Another thing to note is that you may notice that Cancer can get highly protective and very possessive of their partners. This is because Cancer view their partners as a precious treasure that they feel must always be protected and well kept. They enjoy showering their partners with all the love and attention of the Moon. To some signs, this can be a bit over whelming, while to others, they know they’re going to get constant attention and be taken care of every day and they will love it.

Now because of their moody and unpredictable nature, some people would rather not date a Cancer because of how overbearing their emotions get. While it is true that when a Cancer is upset, they’ll get quiet and rather dodgy about certain things, such as they’re personal problems. But if you approach them with care and concern, and show them you’re willing to help them through, regardless of what they may be upset about, then they’ll become more trusting of you and open up to you a lot more. Remember, the more care and comfort you give them, you’ll be getting back double the amount of love and affection from them.

Cusps

Cancer+Gemini Cusp

Name of Cusp: The Cusp of Magic

Date Range: June 17 to June 23

Strengths: Fun, flirty, curious, intellectual, affectionate, caring, devoted, sensitive and inspirational.

Weaknesses: Moody, overly emotional, scatterbrained, selfish, depressive and self-destructive.

If you were born on the Gemini-Cancer cusp, from about June 17 to June 23, you're a magical individual! The energies of Gemini and Cancer combine to create truly inspirational human beings -- both lighthearted and fun, but also caring and devoted.

Emotions can run high for those born on "The Cusp of Magic," but with love and affection from plenty of friends and family, it's likely most will lead an active, stimulating and happy life.

Cancer+Leo Cusp

Name of Cusp: The Cusp of Oscillation

Date Range: July 19 to July 25

Strengths: Loving, devoted, expressive, creative, cheerful, passionate.

Weaknesses: Self-absorbed, insensitive, dramatic, dependent, volatile.

If you were born on the Cancer-Leo cusp, from about July 19 to July 25, you have some challenges to face. When you combine the sensitive nature of Cancer and the expressive drama of Leo, it results in some contrary elements to your personality. Your life may be one of extreme ups and downs!

Cancer-Leo cuspers can be sensitive and shy one moment, and theatrical drama queens the next. This is because they're born of a conflicting mix of water (Cancer) and fire (Leo), which will take discipline to mix successfully.

If you can learn to center yourself and find more balance, your life will be filled with lots of love and lasting relationships.

Cancer Men:

Everything you need to know about Men born under the Cancer Sign.

www.astrology-zodiac-signs.com…

Cancer Women:

Everything you need to know about Women born under the Cancer Sign.

www.astrology-zodiac-signs.com… Compatibility:

Find out if your sign is Compatible with the Cancer Sign.

www.astrology-zodiac-signs.com… Some side notes about the Cancer Sign:

www.yourtango.com/2015257153/f… ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Yep, I learned a lot about myself while doing all this research =3=

Well Happy Birthday to me I suppose. I figured to celebrate I’d draw a picture of me and everything that my zodiac sign represents. And yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s obvious that I pretty much copy and pasted most of this from my research sources, but eh, who cares. I gotta say though, when you do this kind of research, it’s actually scary, with accurate it is about you O-O. Like I read a lot of stuff that I kept me saying “Wow, yeah, I actually am like that!” and then there would be others that I would read that at first I would say “I’m not like that” but then you put more thought into it and then take a moment to remember a time that you might have been like that, and realize you are like that. If there’s anything that I’ve learned it’s that you are more like your zodiac sign than you may realize. But in any case, I hope you all enjoy, and I thank you all in advance for the Birthday wishes~ uvu

Love you all~!

Also sorry that the description is so big, I was wanting to put all the info about Cancer I found, but was trying so hard not to overdo it, so I can understand if you don’t read it all unu

© of artwork- myself

[hella-queer-hero]

HOW TO CHOOSE YOUR DIAMOND

In an ideal world with unlimited budgets and an infinite supply of diamonds, everyone would have beautifully cut "D Flawless" diamonds. In the real world every diamond is unique. There are plenty of gorgeous diamonds to go around - you just need to know how to find one.

Choosing a diamond is about balancing several factors to make the most of your budget. Each factor contributes to the beauty and prestige of your diamond. I will explain these factors so you will be prepared to make an informed decision about your diamond purchase.

FACTOR 1: CARAT WEIGHT

People often use the word Carat when discussing how big a diamond is, however "Carat" actually refers to the weight of a diamond.

There is no rule as to what carat weight you should buy, but you'll doubtless have heard that "bigger is better." If you ask me, I think bigger is great but you shouldn't forget about the other aspects of a diamond's quality.

A useful tip: if you're looking at Certified Diamonds, you may find it valuable to compare the diameters of different diamonds. Since every diamond is individually cut, some may appear larger than others of the same weight.

FACTOR 2: SHAPE

Approximately 75% of diamonds sold worldwide are Round Brilliants. Rounds diamonds are the most popular, most brilliant, and most expensive. If you are purchasing a diamond as a surprise, Round Brilliant is generally your safest bet.

There is no real hierarchy of shapes being better or worse - it is truly a matter of personal preference. Princess Cuts are the second most popular, and a classic alternative to round diamonds. Cushion Cuts are trendy and have a beautiful vintage look. If you want something different but not too crazy, try an Oval Cut, Asscher Cut, or Radiant Cut diamond.

While no shape is better, there are some significant differences between shapes. Take for example, the radiant cut vs the emerald cut. Though they are a similar shape, the extra facets of the radiant cut give it additional fire and sparkle. If you prefer the emerald cut's understated elegance, consider that it's easier to spot any imperfections and select a higher clarity grade.

Another tip: Diamonds (even round diamonds) may not be perfectly symmetrical. It's nothing to worry about if your diamond's width does not precisely match its height, but if your diamond is much longer than it is wide it may not be what you're expecting. This is especially the case in shapes like Cushion and Oval, where a more asymmetrical diamond might look "skinny", with much of the fire and brilliance concentrated at the ends.

FACTOR 3: CUT

"Cut" refers to a diamond's finish and proportions, and is critical in determining its beauty. Getting the angles right ensures a beautiful diamond that's full of life. In many cases it can be more difficult to spot flaws in a fiery, brilliant diamond.

Cut is generally graded in five categories: Poor, Fair, Good, Very Good, and Excellent. Excellent is the highest graded awarded by GIA (whereas other labs may use terms like "ideal" or numbers like "0"). If you want to play safe, stick to "Very Good" and "Excellent" cuts when you choose your diamond.

FACTOR 4: CLARITY

Almost all diamonds have naturally­ occurring features called "inclusions." Inclusions form as the diamond crystallizes deep underground, and they are unique to each diamond. They take many different forms, and can help you identify a diamond as your own. However, large and prominent inclusions can detract from the beauty of a diamond.

There are many different types of inclusions, and not all are created equal. If your diamond certificate has an "inclusion map," check where the inclusions are. Try to find a diamond with inclusions near the edge where they will be masked by sparkle or hidden by the setting of your diamond.

If your budget is limited, I recommend buying "SI" clarity or better. "SI" stands for "Slightly Included." With close inspection you can usually spot the inclusions in an SI­ graded diamond, but these inclusions will most likely not be visible once your diamond is set in jewellery. If you want to be sure your diamond will look "eye clean", even up close, I recommend selecting a VS2 clarity diamond or better. "VS" stands for "Very Slight Inclusion," and imperfections in VS clarity stones are rarely seen by the naked eye.

FACTOR 5: COLOUR

The term "colour" usually refers to how much warm tint is in a diamond. The scale ranges from D (colorless) to Z (very strongly tinted yellow or brown). Pure white diamonds are considered more desirable, and are more expensive. Warmer­-hued diamonds (such as K, L, and M) are not necessarily less attractive, but they are significantly less valuable.

Conventional wisdom is to select J colour or better. Personally, I love G and H colour diamonds ­- they hit the "sweet spot" where most people will not notice colour in the diamond unless they're doing a direct comparison. However, an I or J colour diamond that is well cut and has a lot of life can give you a beautiful diamond at a bargain price.

Depending on how they are cut, different diamonds will display colour differently. This is why colour grades are assigned by looking at a diamond upside­down. Generally, more­ brilliant diamonds show their colour less than less brilliant diamonds.

FACTOR 6: FLUORESCENCE

Fluorescence has a bad rep, and most of it is unfair. Diamond Fluorescence refers to how a diamond responds when subjected to ultra­violet light. Fluorescent diamonds can glow any one of several colours, but the most common is blue.

In rare cases fluorescence can cause your diamond to have a milky appearance when viewed in direct daylight. This is most often the case with strong or very strong fluorescence and D/E/F colour diamonds.

However, there are many, many more cases where blue fluorescence is a positive thing. Imagine you were shining a blue light on a yellow diamond... the blue tint can make your diamond look whiter. If your diamond falls in the "near colourless," "lightly tinted," or "tinted" range I recommend looking for medium blue or faint blue fluorescence.

Warning: Green, red, and yellow fluorescence are rare, and they will not have the same benefit. If you are interested in a diamond that has strong blue, very strong blue, green, red, or yellow fluorescence, I recommend asking your salesperson to show you your diamond outside in natural daylight. If you're buying online, contact the seller prior to making your purchase so they can examine the diamond first in natural daylight.

FACTOR 7: GRADER

This should always be your first question: Says who? Every diamond grading laboratory has different standards, so comparing diamonds graded by different sources is extremely unreliable. One grader might grade a diamond K SI2, and another might call that same diamond F VS2. I know that sounds crazy, but I see it happen all the time.

The most reputable and consistent grading laboratories are GIA, AGS, IGI, and HRD. GIA is considered the global standard worldwide. AGS is a popular alternative in the U.S.A. while IGI and HRD are more common in Europe.

EGL is tricky because there are EGL labs all over the world, and some of them do a great job while others can be less reliable. We strongly recommend caution when buying an EGL certified diamond unless it's from EGL-­USA.

Many diamonds are assigned grades by valuation companies and in-­house graders. If your diamond does not come with a report from a major laboratory, you should always ask where the grader trained. He or she should be certified by a major grading laboratory: GIA, AGS, IGI, or HRD. Be smart and be cautious about reports done by uncertified shop owners, salespeople, or valuation companies.

[biofunmy]

SpaceX to Launch Starlink Internet Satellites Tonight After Postponement

SpaceX, the private rocket company founded by Elon Musk, will try again on Thursday evening to launch dozens of satellites at once.

Wednesday’s attempt to launch Starlink, the company’s bid to get into the space-based internet business, was postponed because of strong winds high in Earth’s atmosphere.

Mr. Musk’s goal is to one day send people to Mars, an exorbitantly expensive venture. And SpaceX, for all its successes, is still a fairly small company, with thin profit margins on its rocket launches. To make enough money for interplanetary journeys, the company hopes its Starlink satellites would provide high-speed internet access all over the world.

“This would provide connectivity to people who either don’t have any connectivity today or where it’s extremely expensive and unreliable,” Mr. Musk said during a Wednesday news conference.

[Sign up to get reminders for space and astronomy events on your calendar.]

When is the launch and how can I watch it?

A Falcon 9 rocket is set to launch from Cape Canaveral Air Force Station in Florida as early as 10:30 p.m. Eastern time. If there are any delays because of weather or technical glitches, the launch can be pushed back as late as midnight.

SpaceX’s webcast of the launch is to start about 15 minutes before liftoff.

This will be SpaceX’s sixth launch of the year. The company will land the booster stage on a platform named “Of Course I Still Love You” floating in the Atlantic Ocean.

What is the rocket carrying?

SpaceX — which usually ferries cargo to orbit for NASA or private companies — is its own customer this time. And the Falcon 9 rocket is not carrying just one satellite, but 60 identical ones.

Mr. Musk posted pictures of the Starlink satellites on Twitter.

The Starlink satellites will eventually form a constellation of satellites that are to offer internet to almost anywhere on Earth.

Last year, SpaceX launched two prototype satellites, called Tintin A and Tintin B.

The payload on this launch, at more than 30,000 pounds, is the heaviest ever launched by SpaceX, Mr. Musk said. He added that these satellites would be able to relay information by bouncing the data off a ground station. However, they lack a component planned for future versions: lasers that would allow the satellites to relay information to each other.

Each of the flat-panel satellites weighs about 500 pounds, powered by a single solar array. They are to be deployed about one hour after launch, steadily moving outward from a slowly spinning core. “It will almost seem like spreading a deck of cards on a table,” Mr. Musk said.

The satellites are to be switched on two to three hours after deployment.

Mr. Musk sounded a note of caution to tamp down expectations. “There is a lot of new technology here,” he said. “It’s possible that some of these satellites may not work. In fact, it’s possible, a small possibility, that all of the satellites may not work.”

Isn’t there already internet service from space?

A number of companies provide satellite internet using geostationary communications satellites 22,200 miles above the surface. At that altitude, the time for the satellite to complete an orbit is exactly one day and thus it remains over the exact same spot on Earth as the planet rotates at the same rate.

That makes it straightforward for one satellite to provide internet for a swath of the surface below, but current services have drawbacks. They are not available everywhere and they are usually fairly expensive.

Because the data signals have to travel up 22,200 miles and then back down, the performance can be laggy. That does not matter if you are watching a movie on Netflix, but it becomes excruciating when playing an online game that relies on fast reflexes.

What’s different about Starlink?

The Starlink satellites will orbit much lower — between 210 and 710 miles above the surface. That reduces the lagginess, or latency. SpaceX has said performance should be comparable to ground-based cable and optical fiber networks that carry most internet traffic today. Starlink would provide high-speed internet to parts of the world that currently are largely cut off from the modern digital world.

Because the satellites are lower, they travel faster. Thus, Starlink must provide a constellation of satellites whizzing around the planet. When one satellite moves away from one of its customers, another one must come into view in order to provide a continuous internet connection.

Mark Juncosa, vice president for vehicle engineering at SpaceX, said that with 12 additional launches, SpaceX could provide good coverage over the United States; 24 launches would put enough satellites to cover most populated areas; and 30 would cover the entire world.

If Starlink is successful, more satellites would be added to send and receive greater volumes of data.

Are other companies also looking to launch constellations of internet satellites?

Starlink’s competitors include OneWeb, Telesat, Iridium and Blue Origin, the rocket company started by Jeff Bezos, founder of Amazon.

Why is SpaceX, a rocket company, going into the internet business?

For Mr. Musk’s dream of sending people to Mars, he is developing a giant spacecraft called Starship. He noted that SpaceX’s rocket launching business might grow to about $3 billion a year. By contrast, internet revenue could bring in $30 billion a year for the company, Mr. Musk said.

“We see this as a way for SpaceX to generate revenue that can be used to develop more and more advanced rockets and spaceships,” Mr. Musk said. “We think this is a key steppingstone on the way to establishing a self-sustaining city on Mars and a base on the moon.”

Mr. Musk acknowledged that history is full of companies dragged into financial ruin by attempting to build ambitious constellations of communications satellites.

“I believe none have successfully gone into operation without going bankrupt,” he said. “I do believe we will be successful, but it is far from a sure thing.”

What about orbital debris?

There are about 2,000 operational satellites around Earth. That number will multiply as constellations like Starlink are deployed.

“A majority of the satellites in orbit will be SpaceX, if things goes according to plan,” Mr. Musk said. “That is a big if, of course.”

The worry is what happens when satellites die. The proliferation of satellites will greatly increase the risks of collisions, and the many pieces of debris would in turn pose danger to other satellites. Mr. Musk said each Starlink satellite would possess data on orbits on all known pieces of space debris and automatically steer away from any that might cross its path.

With so many satellites, there will also be much more debris falling from space in the coming years.

SpaceX said that 95 percent of a Starlink satellite would burn up on re-entry, but that would still mean that about 25 pounds of debris — in particular, an iron thruster that is part of the propulsion system and steel reaction wheels that keep the spacecraft pointed in the correct direction — would reach the surface. In a letter to the Federal Communications Commission on March 13, the company said that it had changed the design so that future versions of the satellites will be entirely destroyed during re-entry.

The chances of any one crashing satellite hurting or killing someone is small; the danger to you individually is negligible. But adding up the risks of tens of thousands of satellites to the 7.5 billion people on Earth, the probability of someone being hurt somewhere become more significant.

Sahred From Source link Business

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