#asha i | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

istumpysk · 2 years

Text

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

ADWD: The Wayward Bride (Asha I) [Chapter 26]

Asha Greyjoy was seated in Galbart Glover's longhall drinking Galbart Glover's wine when Galbart Glover's maester brought the letter to her.

The Greyjoys always tell on themselves.

Same chapter:

"Asha of House Greyjoy. This is my castle."

+.+.+

And that seal … the Boltons of the Dreadfort went into battle beneath pink banners spattered with little drops of blood. It only stood to reason that they would use pink sealing wax as well.

This is poison that I hold, she thought. I ought to burn it. Instead she cracked the seal. A scrap of leather fluttered down into her lap. When she read the dry brown words, her black mood grew blacker still. Dark wings, dark words. The ravens never brought glad tidings. The last message sent to Deepwood had been from Stannis Baratheon, demanding homage. This was worse. "The northmen have taken Moat Cailin."

"The Bastard of Bolton?" asked Qarl, beside her.

"Ramsay Bolton, Lord of Winterfell, he signs himself. But there are other names as well." Lady Dustin, Lady Cerwyn, and four Ryswells had appended their own signatures beneath his. Beside them was drawn a crude giant, the mark of some Umber.

Those were done in maester's ink, made of soot and coal tar, but the message above was scrawled in brown in a huge, spiky hand.

We have to focus on the huge, spiky hand.

That same handwriting is present when Jon receives his first letter from Ramsay.

Ramsay Bolton, Lord of the Hornwood, it read, in a huge, spiky hand. - Jon VI, ADWD

But huge, spiky hand is never mentioned when Jon receives the Pink Letter, so many have speculated Ramsay didn't write it.

However I would argue huge, spiky hand is implied.

The wildling gave the letter a dubious look and handed it right back. "Feels nasty … but Tormund Thunderfist had better things to do than learn to make papers talk at him. They never have any good to say, now do they?" - Jon XIII, ADWD

Tormund can't read, what's making him think the letter feels nasty?

+.+.+

It spoke of the fall of Moat Cailin, of the triumphant return of the Warden of the North to his domains, of a marriage soon to be made. The first words were, "I write this letter in the blood of ironmen," the last, "I send you each a piece of prince. Linger in my lands, and share his fate."

Asha had believed her little brother dead. Better dead than this. The scrap of skin had fallen into her lap.

Asha learns Theon is alive, which is important for later.

+.+.+

Whether Sybelle Glover would find any joy in the fall of Moat Cailin, Asha could not say. Lady Sybelle all but lived in her godswood, praying for her children and her husband's safe return. Another prayer like to go unanswered. Her heart tree is as deaf and blind as our Drowned God. Robett Glover and his brother Galbart had ridden south with the Young Wolf. If the tales they had heard of the Red Wedding were even half-true, they were not like to ride north again. Her children are alive, at least, and that is thanks to me. Asha had left them at Ten Towers in the care of her aunts. Lady Sybelle's infant daughter was still on the breast, and she had judged the girl too delicate to expose to the rigors of another stormy crossing.

Unreliable narrator Asha Greyjoy.

Her young children would also be alive and with her if you hadn't claimed their castle.

+.+.+

"Euron has no interest in Balon's conquests. My nuncle's off chasing dragons." The Crow's Eye had summoned all the strength of the Iron Isles to Old Wyk and sailed out into the deepness of the Sunset Sea, with his brother Victarion following behind like a whipped cur.

Lmao.

Forgive me, Vicky.

+.+.+

"We should go to Torrhen's Square and join the fight," urged Quenton Greyjoy, a distant cousin and captain of the Salty Wench.

Somehow I knew he was going to be dead by the end of this chapter.

+.+.+

Asha had four longships and not quite two hundred men … including Tristifer Botley, who could not be relied on. For all his talk of love, she could not imagine Tris rushing off to Torrhen's Square to die with Dagmer Cleftjaw.

Numbers update!

Asha has 4 longships.

Asha has 200 men.

I don't know how many men are still alive after this chapter.

And those ships are anchored on the western coast of the north. Unless there's a mission involving the Shadow Tower, the Frostfangs, or Bear Island, they're not terribly useful.

+.+.+

"I'd sooner fuck you." One quick slash unlaced her jerkin. Asha reached for her axe, but Qarl dropped his knife and caught her wrist, twisting back her arm until the weapon fell from her fingers. He pushed her back onto Glover's bed, kissed her hard, and tore off her tunic to let her breasts spill out. When she tried to knee him in the groin, he twisted away and forced her legs apart with his knees. "I'll have you now."

"Do it," she spat, "and I'll kill you in your sleep."

George would call this consensual love making.

+.+.+

She was sopping wet when he entered her. "Damn you," she said. "Damn you damn you damn you." He sucked her nipples till she cried out half in pain and half in pleasure. Her cunt became the world. She forgot Moat Cailin and Ramsay Bolton and his little piece of skin, forgot the kingsmoot, forgot her failure, forgot her exile and her enemies and her husband. Only his hands mattered, only his mouth, only his arms around her, his cock inside her. He fucked her till she screamed, and then again until she wept, before he finally spent his seed inside her womb.

[...]

She liked the feel of his smooth, soft skin beneath her fingers. She liked the way his long, straight hair brushed against his shoulders. She liked the way he kissed. She liked how he grinned when she brushed her thumbs across his nipples. The hair between his legs was a darker shade of sand than the hair on his head, but fine as down compared to the coarse black bush around her own sex. She liked that too. He had a swimmer's body, long and lean, with not a scar upon him.

[...]

Drunk, smiling, she crawled beneath the furs and took him in her mouth. Qarl stirred in his sleep, and after a moment he began to stiffen. By the time she had him hard again, he was awake and she was wet. Asha draped the furs across her bare shoulders and mounted him, drawing him so deep inside her that she could not tell who had the cock and who the cunt. This time the two of them reached their peak together.

why

+.+.+

The room was cold. Asha rose from Galbart Glover's bed and took off her torn clothes. The jerkin would need fresh laces, but her tunic was ruined. I never liked it anyway. She tossed it on the flames. The rest she left in a puddle by the bed. Her breasts were sore, and Qarl's seed was trickling down her thigh. She would need to brew some moon tea or risk bringing another kraken into the world.

This never happens. . .

+.+.+

A shy smile, strong arms, clever fingers, and two sure swords. What more could any woman want? She would have married Qarl, and gladly, but she was Lord Balon's daughter and he was common-born, the grandson of a thrall. Too lowborn for me to wed, but not too low for me to suck his cock.

If he knocked you up, you can make him your salt wife.

+.+.+

"My sweet lady," he murmured after, in a voice still thick with sleep. "My sweet queen."

No, Asha thought, I am no queen, nor shall I ever be.

We're still trying to figure that one out, Asha.

'Sweet lady' is almost exclusively reserved for Sansa and Catelyn in this story, but I think it would be a stretch to suggest the above has anything to do with Sansa.

+.+.+

To east and west were empty fields. Oats and barley had been growing there when Asha took the castle, only to be crushed underfoot during her attack. A series of hard frosts had killed the crops they'd planted afterward, leaving only mud and ash and wilted, rotting stalks.

+.+.+

It was an old castle, but not a strong one. She had taken it from the Glovers, and the Bastard of Bolton would take it from her. He would not flay her, though. Asha Greyjoy did not intend to be taken alive. She would die as she had lived, with an axe in her hand and a laugh upon her lips.

I respect it, Cersei.

+.+.+

If anyone fled, it was me. The memory still shamed her.

[...]

"If I stand with my other uncles …"

"… you will die outcast, with every hand against you. When you put your name before the captains you submitted yourself to their judgment. You cannot go against that judgment now. Only once has the choice of a kingsmoot been overthrown. Read Haereg."

Only Rodrik the Reader would talk of some old book whilst their lives were balanced on a sword's edge. "If you are staying, so am I," she told him stubbornly.

"A book can be as dangerous as a sword in the right hands," said Haldon. - Tyrion IV, ADWD

Rodrik the Reader will save the world.

There might be clever wordplay happening above, see if you can catch it.

+.+.+

"Don't be a fool. Euron shows the world his smiling eye tonight, but come the morrow … Asha, you are Balon's daughter, and your claim is stronger than his own. So long as you draw breath you remain a danger to him. If you stay, you will be killed or wed to the Red Oarsman. I don't know which would be worse. Go. You will not have another chance."

Is this about Euron or someone else? Why not both!

+.+.+

Asha was still at Ten Towers taking on provisions when the tidings of her marriage reached her. "My wayward niece needs taming," the Crow's Eye was reported to have said, "and I know the man to tame her." He had married her to Erik Ironmaker and named the Anvil-Breaker to rule the Iron Islands whilst he was chasing dragons.

[...]

She had to pay her nuncle his just due. With one stroke, Euron had turned a rival into a supporter, secured the isles in his absence, and removed Asha as a threat. And enjoyed a good belly laugh too. Tris Botley said that the Crow's Eye had used a seal to stand in for her at her wedding. "I hope Erik did not insist on a consummation," she'd said.

Lol, how can you not love Euron?

Arya fans like to use this proxy wedding to support their belief that Arya is Lady of Winterfell. Nobody tell them this is a different religion, and that's the dumbest thing anyone has ever said.

+.+.+

The sound of the waves washing against a rocky shore was in her blood, but there were no waves at Deepwood Motte … only the trees, the endless trees, soldier pines and sentinels, beech and ash and ancient oaks, chestnut trees and ironwoods and firs. The sound they made was softer than the sea, and she heard it only when the wind was blowing; then the sighing seemed to come from all around her, as if the trees were whispering to one another in some language that she could not understand.

Tonight the whispering seemed louder than before. A rush of dead brown leaves, Asha told herself, bare branches creaking in the wind.

BRAN?!

+.+.+

"It's not food I want, my lady. You know that." Tris had grown himself a thick brown beard at Deepwood. He claimed it helped to keep his face warm.

Yeah, I bet that's why.

Qarl pleased her more than all the rest together. He might shave but once a fortnight, but a shaggy beard does not make a man. - The Wayward Bride, ADWD

You ever notice there's numerous love triangles that feature one spurned man, who isn't wanted by the girl? :)

+.+.+

"Would you have me run?"

"I would have you live. I love you."

No, she thought, you love some innocent maiden who lives only in your head, a frightened child in need of your protection. "I do not love you," she said bluntly, "and I do not run."

Be fair Asha, I'm sure there's many men who fantasize about these things, whether they admit it or not.

+.+.+

"I have hostages, on Harlaw," she reminded him. "And there is still Sea Dragon Point … if I cannot have my father's kingdom, why not make one of my own?" Sea Dragon Point had not always been as thinly peopled as it was now. Old ruins could still be found amongst its hills and bogs, the remains of ancient strongholds of the First Men. In the high places, there were weirwood circles left by the children of the forest.

What a weird insertion that was.

Why in the world would a Greyjoy who worships a Drowned God mention that?

+.+.+

"You are clinging to Sea Dragon Point the way a drowning man clings to a bit of wreckage. What does Sea Dragon have that anyone could ever want? There are no mines, no gold, no silver, not even tin or iron. The land is too wet for wheat or corn."

I do not plan on planting wheat or corn.

Please learn to sow. Don't doom yourself like the other one.

+.+.+

"Do you know what I think?"

"I am about to, I suspect."

"I think the Damphair's dead. I think the Crow's Eye slit his throat for him. Ironmaker's search is just to make us believe the priest escaped. Euron is afraid to be seen as a kinslayer."

"Never let my nuncle hear you say that. Tell the Crow's Eye he's afraid of kinslaying, and he'll murder one of his own sons just to prove you wrong."

She's right, he does not care.

"Not even you would dare," said the Damphair. "I am your brother. No man is more accursed than the kinslayer."

"And yet I wear a crown and you rot in chains. How is it that your Drowned God allows that when I have killed three brothers?" - The Forsaken, TWOW

He ties Dam-phair to the prow of his ship for everyone to see. Is he really worried about appearances?

+.+.+

"Even if you did find your uncle Damphair, the two of you would fail. You were both part of the kingsmoot, so you cannot say it was unlawful called, as Torgon did. You are bound to its decision by all the laws of gods and men. You—"

Asha frowned. "Wait. Torgon? Which Torgon?"

"Torgon the Latecomer."

"He was a king during the Age of Heroes." She recalled that much about him, but little else. "What of him?"

"Torgon Greyiron was the king's eldest son. But the king was old and Torgon restless, so it happened that when his father died he was raiding along the Mander from his stronghold on Greyshield. His brothers sent no word to him but instead quickly called a kingsmoot, thinking that one of them would be chosen to wear the driftwood crown. But the captains and the kings chose Urragon Goodbrother to rule instead. The first thing the new king did was command that all the sons of the old king be put to death, and so they were. After that men called him Badbrother, though in truth they'd been no kin of his. He ruled for almost two years."

Asha remembered now. "Torgon came home …"

"… and said the kingsmoot was unlawful since he had not been there to make his claim. Badbrother had proved to be as mean as he was cruel and had few friends left upon the isles. The priests denounced him, the lords rose against him, and his own captains hacked him into pieces. Torgon the Latecomer became the king and ruled for forty years."

Asha took Tris Botley by the ears and kissed him full upon the lips.

Well looky here.

Asha learns Theon is alive, and then we get this. The one time a kingsmoot was overthrown, it was because the king's eldest son Torgon wasn't present. Urr(Eur)agon the Badbrother was chosen instead.

There's only one way to interpret that, but I think the author might be playing tricks.

Only once has the choice of a kingsmoot been overthrown. Read Haereg.

Red herring.

I'm sorry, there isn't an ironborn alive who would look at Theon and think he's king material. This version, or the one from ACOK.

+.+.+

She broke off suddenly. When Tris tried to speak, she shushed him, listening. "That's a warhorn. Hagen."

[...]

"Cromm and Hagen saw them coming over the wall," Grimtongue explained.

"Just these two?" asked Asha.

"Five. We killed two before they could get over, and Harl slew another on the wallwalk. These two made it to the yard."

[...]

"How many more?" she said. "Tell me, or I'll make your dying last until the dawn."

"Many," he finally sobbed, between screams. "Thousands. Three thousand, four … aieeee … please …"

Numbers update!

Stannis has 3000-4000 men.

Stannis had come north with no more than fifteen hundred men - Davos III, ADWD

1500-2500 of those men are the mountain clans, and we desperately need most of them to survive his downfall.

+.+.+

Galbart Glover's maester had claimed the mountain clans were too quarrelsome to ever band together without a Stark to lead them. He might not have been lying. He might just have been wrong.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but we'll later learn the mountain clans are only helping Stannis to restore Stark rule, yes?

+.+.+

The maester pushed forward, with blood dripping from a broken nose. "Lady Asha, I beg you, strike your banners and let me bargain for your life. You have used us fairly, and with honor. I will tell them so."

"We will exchange you for the children." Sybelle Glover's eyes were red, from tears and sleepless nights. "Gawen is four now. I missed his nameday. And my sweet girl … give me back my children, and no harm need come to you. Nor to your men."

The last part was a lie, Asha knew. She might be exchanged, perhaps, shipped back to the Iron Islands to her husband's loving arms. Her cousins would be ransomed too, as would Tris Botley and a few more of her company, those whose kin had coin enough to buy them back. For the rest it would be the axe, the noose, or the Wall. Still, they have the right to choose.

All I can think about is Theon.

"I do not speak of running. Take the black."

"The Night's Watch?" Theon let the bow unbend slowly and pointed the arrow at the ground.

"Ser Rodrik has served House Stark all his life, and House Stark has always been a friend to the Watch. He will not deny you. Open your gates, lay down your arms, accept his terms, and he must let you take the black."

A brother of the Night's Watch. It meant no crown, no sons, no wife . . . but it meant life, and life with honor. Ned Stark's own brother had chosen the Watch, and Jon Snow as well.

I have black garb aplenty, once I tear the krakens off. Even my horse is black. I could rise high in the Watch—chief of rangers, likely even Lord Commander. Let Asha keep the bloody islands, they're as dreary as she is. If I served at Eastwatch, I could command my own ship, and there's fine hunting beyond the Wall. As for women, what wildling woman wouldn't want a prince in her bed? A slow smile crept across his face. A black cloak can't be turned. I'd be as good as any man . . . - Theon VI, ACOK

+.+.+

The wooden watchtower was the tallest thing this side of the mountains, rising twenty feet above the biggest sentinels and soldier pines in the surrounding woods. "There, Captain," said Cromm, when she made the platform. Asha saw only trees and shadows, the moonlit hills and the snowy peaks beyond. Then she realized that trees were creeping closer. "Oho," she laughed, "these mountain goats have cloaked themselves in pine boughs." The woods were on the move, creeping toward the castle like a slow green tide.

This is so cool. I want to see the crannogmen fight next.

+.+.+

She thought back to a tale she had heard as a child, about the children of the forest and their battles with the First Men, when the greenseers turned the trees to warriors.

Yo, the trees are warriors!

Everything turned inside out and upside down, and Bran found himself back inside his own skin, half-buried in the snow. The burning wight loomed over him, etched tall against the trees in their snowy shrouds. It was one of the naked ones, Bran saw, in the instant before the nearest tree shook off the snow that covered it and dropped it all down upon his head.

[...]

"The snow," Bran said. "It fell on me. Buried me."

"Hid you. I pulled you out." Meera nodded at the girl. - Bran II, ADWD

Kill Melisandre. Do it.

+.+.+

"We cannot fight so many," Tris Botley said.

"We can fight as many as come, pup," insisted Cromm. "The more there are, the more the glory. Men will sing of us."

Aye, but will they sing of your courage or my folly?

She knows the answer to that.

+.+.+

Asha was not ready to die, not here, not yet. "A living man can find the sea more easily than a dead one. Let the wolves keep their gloomy woods. We are making for the ships."

Smart girl.

Greyjoys being adamant they must die near water is my favourite thing.

+.+.+

From beyond Deepwood's mossy wooden walls came the sudden sound of trumpets.

Trumpets? Wolves with trumpets? That was wrong, but Asha had no time to ponder it.

Here comes the loser with his trumpet to ruin a fun stealth mission.

+.+.+

As Hagen came scrambling down the watchtower steps, a wolfling's arrow caught him in the belly and sent him plunging headfirst to the ground. His daughter ran to him, wailing. "Bring her," Asha commanded. This was no time for mourning. Rolfe the Dwarf pulled the girl onto his horse, her red hair flying.

I don't know what to make of this red-headed girl.

+.+.+

Deepwood was aptly named. The trees were huge and dark, somehow threatening. Their limbs wove through one another and creaked with every breath of wind, and their higher branches scratched at the face of the moon. The sooner we are shut of here, the better I will like it, Asha thought. The trees hate us all, deep in their wooden hearts.

[...]

After the scouts had vanished into the trees, the rest of the ironborn resumed their march, but the going was slow. The trees hid the moon and stars from them, and the forest floor beneath their feet was black and treacherous.

[...]

Asha cursed beneath her breath, wondering if it had been a mistake to leave the castle. No. If we had stayed and fought, we might all be dead by now. But it was no good blundering on through the dark either. These trees will kill us if they can.

THIS SHOULD BE STANNIS.

Stannis should have to fight threatening trees! It's not fair he gets to weaponize them! Where's the justice!

+.+.+

Hagen's red-haired daughter seized Tris Botley by the hand to draw him off into the trees. When he refused her, she went off with Six-Toed Harl instead.

Would that I could do the same. It would be sweet to lose herself in Qarl's arms one last time.

Sex before the final battle is a classic trope, but this is a little out there.

+.+.+

Something flew from the brush to land with a soft thump in their midst, bumping and bouncing. It was round and dark and wet, with long hair that whipped about it as it rolled. When it came to rest amongst the roots of an oak, Grimtongue said, "Rolfe the Dwarf's not so tall as he once was." Half her men were on their feet by then, reaching for shields and spears and axes. They lit no torches either, Asha had time enough to think, and they know these woods better than we ever could. Then the trees erupted all around them, and the northmen poured in howling. Wolves, she thought, they howl like bloody wolves. The war cry of the north.

[...]

"Seven," shouted Grimtongue, but beside him Lorren Longaxe sprawled with one leg twisted under him, and the shadows kept on coming, shouting and rustling. We are fighting shrubbery, Asha thought as she slew a man who had more leaves on him than most of the surrounding trees. That made her laugh.

I'm so bitter the author wasted this on Asha instead of Stannis.

+.+.+

Behind her Grimtongue shouted, "Nine, and damn you all." Hagen's daughter burst naked from beneath the trees with two wolves at her heels. Asha wrenched loose a throwing axe and sent it flying end over end to take one of them in the back. When he fell, Hagen's daughter stumbled to her knees, snatched up his sword, stabbed the second man, then rose again, smeared with blood and mud, her long red hair unbound, and plunged into the fight.

This girl is ruining the immersion.

+.+.+

The world went red and black and red again. Pain crackled up her leg like lightning, and far away she heard her northman say, "You bloody cunt," as he lifted up his axe for the blow that would finish her.

A trumpet blew.

That's wrong, she thought. There are no trumpets in the Drowned God's watery halls. Below the waves the merlings hail their lord by blowing into seashells.

She dreamt of red hearts burning, and a black stag in a golden wood with flame streaming from his antlers.

Is that hidden foreshadowing or more R'hllor nonsense?

Patchface is a servant of the Drowned God, confirmed.

Patchface jumped up. "I will lead it!" His bells rang merrily. "We will march into the sea and out again. Under the waves we will ride seahorses, and mermaids will blow seashells to announce our coming, oh, oh, oh." - Jon XIII, ADWD

Final thoughts:

This doesn't count as a victory for Stannis. The trees and Jon Snow won.

-> return to menu <-

#operation stumpy re-read #adwd #the wayward bride #asha i

47 notes · View notes