#barristan iv

[istumpysk]

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

ADWD: The Queen's Hand (Barristan IV) [Chapter 70]

Long ass chapter for no good reason.

The Dornish prince was three days dying.

He took his last shuddering breath in the bleak black dawn, as cold rain hissed from a dark sky to turn the brick streets of the old city into rivers. The rain had drowned the worst of the fires, but wisps of smoke still rose from the smoldering ruin that had been the pyramid of Hazkar, and the great black pyramid of Yherizan where Rhaegal had made his lair hulked in the gloom like a fat woman bedecked with glowing orange jewels.

Perhaps the gods are not deaf after all, Ser Barristan Selmy reflected as he watched those distant embers. If not for the rain, the fires might have consumed all of Meereen by now.

+.+.+

He saw no sign of dragons, but he had not expected to. The dragons did not like the rain. 

We already know they hate the cold, and don't do well in the north, but not liking rain seems to be a new development. At least for me.

"I knew it would rain," he said in a gloomy tone. "My bones were aching last night. They always ache before it rains. The dragons won't like this. Fire and water don't mix, and that's a fact. You get a good cookfire lit, blazing away nice, then it starts to piss down rain and next thing your wood is sodden and your flames are dead."

Gerris chuckled. "Dragons are not made of wood, Arch."

"Some are. That old King Aegon, the randy one, he built wooden dragons to conquer us. That ended bad, though." - The Dragontamer, ADWD

+.+.+

Missandei sat at the bedside. She had been with the prince night and day, tending to such needs as he could express, giving him water and milk of the poppy when he was strong enough to drink, listening to the few tortured words he gasped out from time to time, reading to him when he fell quiet, sleeping in her chair beside him. Ser Barristan had asked some of the queen's cupbearers to help, but the sight of the burned man was too much for even the boldest of them. And the Blue Graces had never come, though he'd sent for them four times. Perhaps the last of them had been carried off by the pale mare by now.

It seems little Missandei can stomach some pretty gruesome things. Reminds me of another little girl in this story.

I'm going to pretend the Blue Graces aren't helping because they hate him.

+.+.+

The tiny Naathi scribe looked up at his approach. "Honored ser. The prince is beyond pain now. His Dornish gods have taken him home. See? He smiles."

Dornish gods?

+.+.+

How can you tell? He has no lips. It would have been kinder if the dragons had devoured him. That at least would have been quick. This … Fire is a hideous way to die. Small wonder half the hells are made of flame. "Cover him."

Says the Targaryen loyalist.

+.+.+

"I'll see that he's returned to Dorne." But how? As ashes? That would require more fire, and Ser Barristan could not stomach that. We'll need to strip the flesh from his bones. Beetles, not boiling. 

Something tells me House Martell won't be enjoying this skull as much as the last one.

+.+.+

"You should go sleep now, child. In your own bed."

"If this one may be so bold, ser, you should do the same. You do not sleep the whole night through."

How does she know that?

+.+.+

Grand Maester Pycelle had once told him that old men do not need as much sleep as the young, but it was more than that. He had reached that age when he was loath to close his eyes, for fear that he might never open them again. Other men might wish to die in bed asleep, but that was no death for a knight of the Kingsguard.

If there is any justice in this world, Barristan Selmy falls down a flight of stairs. Make it old man shit.

+.+.+

After the girl was gone, the old knight peeled back the coverlet for one last look at Quentyn Martell's face, or what remained of it. So much of the prince's flesh had sloughed away that he could see the skull beneath. His eyes were pools of pus. He should have stayed in Dorne. He should have stayed a frog. Not all men are meant to dance with dragons. 

Misleading. Remember everyone, the dance won't actually involve dragons, Daenerys or any other real Targaryen.

+.+.+

And with the sun arrived the Shavepate. Skahaz was clad in his familiar garb of pleated black skirt, greaves, and muscled breastplate. The brazen mask beneath his arm was new—a wolf's head with lolling tongue. 

LMAO.

Two for three! If this guy is in a rat mask at the start of TWOW, I'm going to lose my mind.

Can someone do me a favour and ask a Targ if it's a good thing when the poisoner dresses like a wolf?

+.+.+

"They await the Hand's pleasure below."

I am no Hand, a part of him wanted to cry out. I am only a simple knight, the queen's protector. I never wanted this. But with the queen gone and the king in chains, someone had to rule, and Ser Barristan did not trust the Shavepate. 

You realize you didn't have to do anything, you stupid jackass.

+.+.+

There are two hundred highborn gathered in the square, standing in the rain in their tokars and howling for audience. They want Hizdahr free and me dead, and they want you to slay these dragons. Someone told them knights were good at that. 

Personally, my money's on cripples, bastards, and broken things. And Samwell.

+.+.+

Men are still pulling corpses from the pyramid of Hazkar. The Great Masters of Yherizan and Uhlez have abandoned their own pyramids to the dragons.

You find any lions under that pyramid?

+.+.+

"Nine-and-twenty?" That was far worse than he could ever have imagined. The Sons of the Harpy had resumed their shadow war two days ago. Three murders the first night, nine the second. But to go from nine to nine-and-twenty in a single night …

Sounds like the perfect time to go to war, Barry.

When she opened her eyes again, Daenerys said, "I cannot fight two enemies, one within and one without. If I am to hold Meereen, I must have the city behind me. The whole city. I need … I need …" - Daenerys V, ADWD

+.+.+

Why do you look so grey, old man? What did you expect? The Harpy wants Hizdahr free, so he has sent his sons back into the streets with knives in hand. 

Both of these men thought Hizdahr was the Harpy.

+.+.+

The sign of the Harpy was left beside the bodies, chalked on the pavement or scratched into a wall. There were messages as well. 'Dragons must die,' they wrote, and 'Harghaz the Hero.' 'Death to Daenerys' was seen as well, before the rain washed out the words."

Damn, they forgot my favourite.

+.+.+

"Twenty-nine hundred pieces of gold from each pyramid, aye," Skahaz grumbled. "It will be collected … but the loss of a few coins will never stay the Harpy's hand. Only blood can do that."

"So you say." The hostages again. He would kill them every one if I allowed it. "I heard you the first hundred times. No."

He can deny him all he'd like, the blood is still on Barristan's hands if these kids die. He's the one who committed treason, and empowered this maniac.

+.+.+

Hizdahr's grotesque dragon thrones had been removed at Ser Barristan's command, but he had not brought back the simple pillowed bench the queen had favored. Instead a large round table had been set up in the center of the hall, with tall chairs all around it where men might sit and talk as peers.

The audacity of this man.

+.+.+

They rose when Ser Barristan came down the marble steps, Skahaz Shavepate at his side. 

[...]

"Whitebeard." Belwas smiled. "Where is liver and onions? Strong Belwas is not so strong as before, he must eat, get big again. They made Strong Belwas sick. Someone must die."

Someone will. Many someones, like as not.

You can only laugh. I'm sure Skahaz is.

+.+.+

Should Drogon return to Meereen without Daenerys mounted on his back, the city would erupt in blood and flame, of that Ser Barristan had no doubt. 

Wanna bet the same thing happens if she is mounted on his back?

+.+.+

Thus far both dragons seemed to have a taste for mutton, returning to Daznak's whenever they grew hungry. If either one was hunting man, inside or outside the city, Ser Barristan had yet to hear of it. The only Meereenese the dragons had slain since Harghaz the Hero had been the slavers foolish enough to object when Rhaegal attempted to make his lair atop the pyramid of Hazkar.

Uh, no actually, that's not accurate at all.

The dragon twisted violently in the air, wounds smoking, the girl clinging to his back. Then he loosed the fire.

It had taken the rest of the day and most of the night for the Brazen Beasts to gather up the corpses. The final count was two hundred fourteen slain, three times as many burned or wounded. Drogon was gone from the city by then, last seen high over the Skahazadhan, flying north. - The Queensguard, ADWD

Convenient to forget something like that. I bet Barristan is going to be forgetting a lot of things in the future.

+.+.+

"We have more pressing matters to discuss. I have sent the Green Grace to the Yunkishmen to make arrangements for the release of our hostages. I expect her back by midday with their answer."

Barristan Selmy sending the Harpy to go negotiate with Yunkai is the most Barristan Selmy thing he could have done.

+.+.+

Skahaz Shavepate slammed his fist upon the table. "The Green Grace will accomplish nothing. She may be conspiring with the Yunkai'i even as we sit here. Arrangements, did you say? Make arrangements? What sort of arrangements?"

"Ransom," said Ser Barristan. "Each man's weight in gold."

Of course the Shavepate would be the one to correctly suspect treachery.

+.+.+

"Their sellswords will want the gold, though. What are the hostages to them? If the Yunkishmen refuse, it will drive a blade between them and their hirelings." Or so I hope. It had been Missandei who suggested the ploy to him. He would never have thought of such a thing himself. In King's Landing, bribes had been Littlefinger's domain, whilst Lord Varys had the task of fostering division amongst the crown's enemies. His own duties had been more straightforward. Eleven years of age, yet Missandei is as clever as half the men at this table and wiser than all of them.

Hm, it's usually Arya. This is the first time Missandei has given off older sister vibes.

+.+.+

"They will refuse, even so," insisted Symon Stripeback. "They will say they want the dragons dead, the king restored."

"I pray that you are wrong." And fear that you are right.

Reasonable demand.

214 people dead.

+.+.+

"Your gods are far away, Ser Grandfather," said the Widower. "I do not think they hear your prayers. And when the Yunkai'i send back the old woman to spit in your eye, what then?"

"Fire and blood," said Barristan Selmy, softly, softly.

✨ foreshadowing ✨

+.+.+

Skahaz Shavepate stared through the eyes of his wolf's head mask and said, "You would break King Hizdahr's peace, old man?"

"I would shatter it." Once, long ago, a prince had named him Barristan the Bold. A part of that boy was in him still. "We have built a beacon atop the pyramid where once the Harpy stood. Dry wood soaked with oil, covered to keep the rain off. Should the hour come, and I pray that it does not, we will light that beacon. The flames will be your signal to pour out of our gates and attack. Every man of you will have a part to play, so every man must be in readiness at all times, day or night. We will destroy our foes or be destroyed ourselves." He raised a hand to signal to his waiting squires. "I have had some maps prepared to show the dispositions of our foes, their camps and siege lines and trebuchets. If we can break the slavers, their sellswords will abandon them. I know you will have concerns and questions. Voice them here. By the time we leave this table, all of us must be of a single mind, with a single purpose."

Horse shit, this is exactly what he's wanted from the beginning.

"You mean to take the field?" The Shavepate's voice was thick with disbelief. "That would be folly. Our walls are taller and thicker than the walls of Astapor, and our defenders are more valiant. The Yunkai'i will not take this city easily."

Ser Barristan disagreed. "I do not think we should allow them to invest us. Theirs is a patchwork host at best. These slavers are no soldiers. If we take them unawares …" - Daenerys V, ADWD

x

The queen sighed. "What do you counsel, ser?"

"Battle," said Ser Barristan. "Meereen is overcrowded and full of hungry mouths, and you have too many enemies within. We cannot long withstand a siege, I fear. Let me meet the foe as he comes north, on ground of my own choosing." - Daenerys V, ADWD

Ahem.

Ser Barristan is a valiant knight and true; but none, I think, has ever called him cunning."

"Knights know only one way to solve a problem. They couch their lances and charge. A dwarf has a different way of looking at the world. What of you, though? You are a clever man yourself." - Tyrion II, ADWD

I'm dying at the author giving the Daenerys side a beacon. I'm used to Stannis copying her.

+.+.+

And when all that had been discussed, debated, and decided, Symon Stripeback raised one final point. "As a slave in Yunkai I helped my master bargain with the free companies and saw to the payment of their wages. I know sellswords, and I know that the Yunkai'i cannot pay them near enough to face dragonflame. So I ask you … if the peace should fail and this battle should be joined, will the dragons come? Will they join the fight?"

They will come, Ser Barristan might have said. The noise will bring them, the shouts and screams, the scent of blood. That will draw them to the battlefield, just as the roar from Daznak's Pit drew Drogon to the scarlet sands. But when they come, will they know one side from the other? Somehow he did not think so. 

A little friendly fire. No biggie.

I wonder which ally is getting smoked.

+.+.+

Ser Barristan took two of his new-made knights with him down into the dungeons. 

Ego always wins in the end.

As he watched them at their drills, Ser Barristan pondered raising Tumco and Larraq to knighthood then and there, and mayhaps the Red Lamb too. It required a knight to make a knight, and if something should go awry tonight, dawn might find him dead or in a dungeon. Who would dub his squires then? On the other hand, a young knight's repute derived at least in part from the honor of the man who conferred knighthood on him. It would do his lads no good at all if it was known that they were given their spurs by a traitor, and might well land them in the dungeon next to him. They deserve better, Ser Barristan decided. Better a long life as a squire than a short one as a soiled knight. - The Kingbreaker, ADWD

+.+.+

Ser Gerris punched a wall. "I told him it was folly. I begged him to go home. Your bitch of a queen had no use for him, any man could see that. He crossed the world to offer her his love and fealty, and she laughed in his face."

"She never laughed," said Selmy. "If you knew her, you would know that."

"She spurned him. He offered her his heart, and she threw it back at him and went off to fuck her sellsword."

"You had best guard that tongue, ser." Ser Barristan did not like this Gerris Drinkwater, nor would he allow him to vilify Daenerys. "Prince Quentyn's death was his own doing, and yours."

This will be the man who tells Dorne what happened. I couldn't be happier.

She did laugh, and she did influence him.

+.+.+

Barristan Selmy could not dispute the truth of that. He had spent the best part of his own life obeying the commands of drunkards and madmen.

Sounds like another king I know.

Jon laughed, laughed like a drunk or a madman, and his men laughed with him. - Jon VIII, ASOS

+.+.+

To Ser Barristan the big knight said, "No need to come and talk if you meant to hang us. So it's not that, is it?"

"No." This one may not be as slow-witted as he seems. 

You can't be serious.

This POV is unbearable, I can't believe I have one more to get through.

+.+.+

Ser Archibald grimaced. "Why is it always ships? Someone needs to take Quent home, though. What do you ask of us, ser?"

"Your swords."

"You have thousands of swords."

"The queen's freedmen are as yet unblooded. The sellswords I do not trust. Unsullied are brave soldiers … but not warriors. Not knights." He paused. "What happened when you tried to take the dragons? Tell me."

Even 11-year-old Sansa wasn't this deluded about knights.

+.+.+

The chains … there were bits of broken chain everywhere, big chains, links the size of your head mixed in with all these cracked and splintered bones. And Quent, Seven save him, he looked like he was going to shit his smallclothes. Caggo and Meris weren't blind, they saw it too. Then one of the crossbowmen let fly. Maybe they meant to kill the dragons all along and were only using us to get to them. You never know with Tatters. 

What a weird thing to write.

+.+.+

"Ah, what did you expect, Drink? A cat will kill a mouse, a pig will wallow in shit, and a sellsword will run off when he's needed most. Can't be blamed. Just the nature of the beast."

Still holding out hope this isn't only about Brown Ben Plumm.

+.+.+

"What did Prince Quentyn promise the Tattered Prince in return for all this help?"

He got no answer. Ser Gerris looked at Ser Archibald. Ser Archibald looked at his hands, the floor, the door.

"Pentos," said Ser Barristan. "He promised him Pentos. Say it. No words of yours can help or harm Prince Quentyn now."

"Aye," said Ser Archibald unhappily. "It was Pentos. They made marks on a paper, the two of them."

There is a chance here.

If you thought Barristan Selmy sending the Harpy to Yunkai was the dumbest thing he would do in this chapter, I've got some news for you.

"Pentos?" Her eyes narrowed. "How can I give him Pentos? It is half a world away."

"He would be willing to wait, the woman Meris suggested. Until we march for Westeros."

And if I never march for Westeros? "Pentos belongs to the Pentoshi. And Magister Illyrio is in Pentos. He who arranged my marriage to Khal Drogo and gave me my dragon eggs. Who sent me you, and Belwas, and Groleo. I owe him much and more. I will not repay that debt by giving his city to some sellsword. No."

Ser Barristan inclined his head. "Your Grace is wise." - Daenerys IX, ADWD

+.+.+

"I mean to send them back to the Tattered Prince. And you with them. You will be two amongst thousands. Your presence in the Yunkish camps should pass unnoticed. I want you to deliver a message to the Tattered Prince. Tell him that I sent you, that I speak with the queen's voice. Tell him that we'll pay his price if he delivers us our hostages, unharmed and whole."

Yup that's right, Barristan Selmy promised to give Pentos to a sellsword. PENTOS.

There are no words.

+.+.+

"Why not? The task is simple enough." Compared to stealing dragons. "I once brought the queen's father out of Duskendale."

Past your prime, peaked in high school energy.

+.+.+

The simple part, at least, thought Barristan Selmy, as he made the long climb back to the summit of the pyramid. The hard part he'd left in Dornish hands. His grandfather would have been aghast. The Dornishmen were knights, at least in name, though only Yronwood impressed him as having the true steel. Drinkwater had a pretty face, a glib tongue, and a fine head of hair.

God, shut up.

He would have a thin blue line bumper sticker, I know it.

Edit: Necessary addition.

+.+.+

By the time the old knight returned to the queen's rooms atop the pyramid, Prince Quentyn's corpse had been removed. Six of the young cupbearers were playing some child's game as he entered, sitting in a circle on the floor as they took turns spinning a dagger. 

Uhh, that doesn't feel like a good omen.

+.+.+

Far off to the east, beyond the city walls, he saw pale wings moving above a distant line of hills. Viserion. Hunting, mayhaps, or flying just to fly. He wondered where Rhaegal was. Thus far the green dragon had shown himself to be more dangerous than the white.

He sure is!

+.+.+

The Dornishmen, Hizdahr, Reznak, the attack … was he doing the right things? Was he doing what Daenerys would have wanted? I was not made for this. 

NO YOU CLOWN.

I want no war with Yunkai. How many times must I say it? - Daenerys VI, ADWD

+.+.+

Galazza Galare was attended by four Pink Graces. An aura of wisdom and dignity seemed to surround her that Ser Barristan could not help but admire. This is a strong woman, and she has been a faithful friend to Daenerys.

That's all the Harpy confirmation I need.

It's not clear what Pink Graces do. I am reminded of House of Pahl.

+.+.+

"I am pleased to hear that. The Wise Masters of Yunkai asked after him. You will not be surprised to hear that they wish the noble Hizdahr to be restored at once to his rightful place."

"He shall be, if it can be proved that he did not try to kill our queen. Until such time, Meereen will be ruled by a council of the loyal and just. There is a place for you on that council. I know that you have much to teach us all, Your Benevolence. We need your wisdom."

"I fear you flatter me with empty courtesies, Lord Hand," the Green Grace said. "If you truly think me wise, heed me now. Release the noble Hizdahr and restore him to his throne."

"Only the queen can do that."

But you can arrest the king, start a war with Yunkai, and give away Pentos?

+.+.+

The pyramid of Hazkar has collapsed into a smoking ruin, and many of that ancient line lie dead beneath its blackened stones.

How about twins? Any set of twins under that pyramid?

+.+.+

"And murder. The Sons of the Harpy slew thirty in the night."

"I grieve to hear this. All the more reason to free the noble Hizdahr zo Loraq, who stopped such killings once."

And how did he accomplish that, unless he is himself the Harpy?

+.+.+

"Her Grace gave her hand to Hizdahr zo Loraq, made him her king and consort, restored the mortal art as he beseeched her. In return he gave her poisoned locusts."

"In return he gave her peace. Do not cast it away, ser, I beg you. Peace is the pearl beyond price. Hizdahr is of Loraq. Never would he soil his hands with poison. He is innocent."

"How can you be certain?" Unless you know the poisoner.

If he would take one fucking second to listen to the words pouring out of his dumb idiotic mouth, he might realize there's no motive here.

+.+.+

"They did. No amount of gold will buy your people back, I was told. Only the blood of dragons may set them free again."

It was the answer Ser Barristan had expected, if not the one that he had hoped for. His mouth tightened.

Should the hour come, and I pray that it does not, we will light that beacon.

+.+.+

"I know these were not the words you wished to hear," said Galazza Galare. "Yet for myself, I understand. These dragons are fell beasts. Yunkai fears them … and with good cause, you cannot deny. Our histories speak of the dragonlords of dread Valyria and the devastation that they wrought upon the peoples of Old Ghis. Even your own young queen, fair Daenerys who called herself the Mother of Dragons … we saw her burning, that day in the pit … even she was not safe from the dragon's wroth."

"Dragons," Aemon whispered. "The grief and glory of my House, they were." - Samwell III, AFFC

+.+.+

Ser Barristan was on his feet at once. "What is it?"

"The trebuchets," the Shavepate growled. "All six."

Galazza Galare rose. "Thus does Yunkai make reply to your offers, ser. I warned you that you would not like their answer."

They choose war, then. So be it. Ser Barristan felt oddly relieved. War he understood. "If they think they will break Meereen by throwing stones—"

"Not stones." The old woman's voice was full of grief, of fear. "Corpses."

Yeah no shit, I would also feel relief if I manipulated the system for a specific outcome, then got exactly what I wanted.

I wish him well. Barristan Selmy is not allowed to die in Meereen with a sword in his hand.

Final thoughts:

Live look at me trying to get through the last three chapters.

-> return to menu <-

[asoiafreadthru]

A Game of Thrones, Catelyn IV

“Nothing happens in this city without Varys knowing. Ofttimes he knows about it before it happens.

“He has informants everywhere. His little birds, he calls them.

“One of his little birds heard about your visit. Thankfully, Varys came to me first.”

“Why you?”

He shrugged. “Why not me? I am master of coin, the king’s own councillor. Selmy and Lord Renly rode north to meet Robert, and Lord Stannis is gone to Dragonstone, leaving only Maester Pycelle and me.

“I was the obvious choice. I was ever a friend to your sister Lysa, Varys knows that.”

[trbotunnel]

this game rules except when the rng fucks me over :)

this was supposed to be a poster but i felt like turning it into an oldschool ttrpg module/retro game module because the game lends itself well to that. shoutout to vermis for inspo fr!!!

[agentrouka-blog]

Favourite sassy Sansa moments ??

This one is still my favourite:

“When Lady Anya first told me of this match, I was afraid that you might look like your father."

"Little pointy beard and all?" Alayne laughed.

“I never meant..."

"I hope you joust better than you talk."

I know she’s technically playing a role here but SANSA STARK’S SASS IS UNDERRATED!!!! she’s so unintentionally funny

Anon, I am pretty sure it's intentional. ^_^

Sansa is dang charming and funny when she's allowed to be.

The older man in white spoke to Sansa gently. "Ofttimes Ser Ilyn frightens me as well, sweet lady. He has a fearsome aspect." "As well he should." The queen had descended from the wheelhouse. The spectators parted to make way for her. "If the wicked do not fear the King's Justice, you have put the wrong man in the office." Sansa finally found her words. "Then surely you have chosen the right one, Your Grace," she said, and a gale of laughter erupted all around her. "Well spoken, child," said the old man in white. "As befits the daughter of Eddard Stark. I am honored to know you, however irregular the manner of our meeting. I am Ser Barristan Selmy, of the Kingsguard." He bowed. (AGOT, Sansa I)

This isn't quite as hilarious at first glance, but she's very much working her audience here, to great effect.

Of course, she rarely has the opportunity to openly speak at all, let alone with sass, so a lot of her snark happens internally.

One of my favorite unspoken lines is this:

The king leafed through it with no interest. "And what is this, Uncle?" A book. Sansa wondered if Joffrey moved those fat wormy lips of his when he read. (ASOS, Sansa IV)

The classic:

"They say my brother Robb always goes where the fighting is thickest," she said recklessly. "Though he's older than Your Grace, to be sure. A man grown." (ACOK, Sansa V)

I'm sure there are many that escape me right now.

But yeah, the TWOW sample chapter is pure gold in terms of watching Sansa be closer to her carefree self. Excitedly overseeing preparations, running and gossiping with a friend, free to bite back for once, free to let her thoughts indulge silly details or observations that don't specifically serve to protect her from harm.

Alayne loved it here. She felt alive again, for the first since her father… since Lord Eddard Stark had died. [...]

Not to be outdone, the pimply knight hopped up and said, "Ser Ossifer speaks truly, you are the most beautiful maid in all the Seven Kingdoms." It might have been a sweeter courtesy had he not addressed it to her chest. "And have you seen all those maids yourself, ser?" Alayne asked him. "You are young to be so widely travelled." [...]

Myranda rolled her eyes. "They're from the Sisters. Did you ever know a Sisterman who could joust? They clean their swords with codfish oil and wash in tubs of cold seawater." "Well," Alayne said, "at least they're clean." "Some of them have webs between their toes. I'd sooner marry Lord Petyr.  [...] She danced with all three Sunderlands, none of whom had webs between their fingers, though she could not vouch for their toes. [...]

And there he stood, Harry the Heir himself; tall, handsome, scowling. [....]

"And is Ser Harrold with them?" Horrible Ser Harrold. "He is." [...]

Ser Harrold had the grace to blush. "Her father says she is more precious to him than gold. He's rich, the richest man in Gulltown. A fortune in spices." "What will you name the babe?" she asked. "Cinnamon if she's a girl? Cloves if he's a boy?" That almost made him stumble. "My lady japes." "Oh, no." Petyr will howl when I tell him what I said.

Alayne is the Sansa that she could have been all this time, the girl who liked to giggle and be silly with Jeyne Poole, had no great issue holding her own in conversation, who drew pleasure and energy from the world around her.

I mean, we know she is playing a role and based Alayne partially on Jon Snow... but that girl there is not a terse and moody grump. She's not even a lean shadow laughingly racing to the bridge with his brother. She is a highborn lord's daughter, inhabiting the center of attention with confidence like she was born to it. Like Sansa.

[amber-laughs]

Jon and Catelyn: The Accidental Progeny

Survival

Catelyn saw the shadow slip through the open door behind him. There was a low rumble, less than a snarl, the merest whisper of a threat, but he must have heard something, because he started to turn just as the wolf made its leap. They went down together, half sprawled over Catelyn where she'd fallen. The wolf had him under the jaw. The man's shriek lasted less than a second before the beast wrenched back its head, taking out half his throat. A Game of Thrones - Catelyn III

And suddenly the corpse's weight was gone, its fingers ripped from his throat. It was all Jon could do to roll over, retching and shaking. Ghost had it again. He watched as the direwolf buried his teeth in the wight's gut and began to rip and tear.  A Game of Thrones - Jon VII

Reassurance

Her hand groped beneath her cloak, her fingers stiff and fumbling. The dagger was still at her side. She found she had to touch it now and then, to reassure herself. A Game of Thrones - Catelyn IV

He flexed the burned fingers of his sword hand. Longclaw was slung to his saddle, the carved stone wolf's-head pommel and soft leather grip of the great bastard sword within easy reach. A Storm of Swords - Jon II

Family

His mouth tightened. "And you see fit to loose the Kingslayer. You had no right." "I had a mother's right." A Storm of Swords - Catelyn I

“You wanted a way to save your little sister and still hold fast to the honor that means so much to you, to the vows you swore before your wooden god." She pointed with a pale finger. "There he stands, Lord Snow. Arya's deliverance.” A Dance with Dragons - Melisandre I

Vengeance

"Give me Cersei Lannister, Lord Karstark, and you would see how gentle a woman can be," Catelyn replied. A Game of Thrones - Catelyn XI

"It's death and destruction I want to bring down upon House Lannister, not scorn." A Dance with Dragons - Jon II

Pain

When Loras Tyrell unhorsed him, many of us became a trifle poorer. Ser Jaime lost a hundred golden dragons, the queen lost an emerald pendant, and I lost my knife. Her Grace got the emerald back, but the winner kept the rest." "Who?" Catelyn demanded, her mouth dry with fear. Her fingers ached with remembered pain. A Clash of Kings - Catelyn IV

Ser Barristan had been the Old Bear's best hope, Jon remembered; if he had fallen, what chance was there that Mormont's letter would be heeded? He curled his hand into a fist. Pain shot through his burned fingers. "What of my sisters?" A Game of Thrones - Jon VIII

Intuition

"Robb." She stopped and held his arm. "I told you once to keep Theon Greyjoy close, and you did not listen. Listen now. Send this man away. I am not saying you must banish him. Find some task that requires a man of courage, some honorable duty, what it is matters not… but do not keep him near you."  A Storm of Swords - Catelyn II

All of a man's crimes were wiped away when he took the black, and all of his allegiances as well, yet he found it hard to think of Janos Slynt as a brother. There is blood between us. This man helped slay my father and did his best to have me killed as well. "Lord Janos." Jon sheathed his sword. "I am giving you command of Greyguard." A Dance with Dragons - Jon II

Inheritance

"That is as cruel as it is unfair. Jon is no Theon." "So you pray. Have you considered your sisters? What of their rights? I agree that the north must not be permitted to pass to the Imp, but what of Arya? By law, she comes after Sansa... your own sister, trueborn… " A Storm of Swords - Catelyn V

I had hoped to bestow Winterfell on a northman, you may recall. A son of Eddard Stark. He threw my offer in my face." Stannis Baratheon with a grievance was like a mastiff with a bone; he gnawed it down to splinters. "By right Winterfell should go to my sister Sansa." A Dance with Dragons - Jon I

Peace

"Wars need not be fought until the last drop of blood." Even she could hear the desperation in her voice. "You would not be the first king to bend the knee, nor even the first Stark." […] Robb's face was cold. "Is that why you freed the Kingslayer? To make a peace with the Lannisters?" "I freed Jaime for Sansa's sake . . . and Arya's, if she still lives. You know that. But if I nurtured some hope of buying peace as well, was that so ill?" A Storm of Swords - Catelyn IV

"If it please m'lord, the lads were wondering. Will it be peace, m'lord? Or blood and iron?" "Peace," Jon Snow replied. "Three days hence, Tormund Giantsbane will lead his people through the Wall. As friends, not foes. Some may even swell our ranks, as brothers. Now back to your duties." A Dance with Dragons - Jon XI

Fear

In the midst of slaughter, the Lord of the Crossing sat on his carved oaken throne, watching greedily. There was a dagger on the floor a few feet away. Perhaps it had skittered there when the Smalljon knocked the table off its trestles, or perhaps it had fallen from the hand of some dying man. Catelyn crawled toward it. Her limbs were leaden, and the taste of blood was in her mouth. A Storm of Swords - Catelyn VII

Men were screaming. Jon reached for Longclaw, but his fingers had grown stiff and clumsy. Somehow he could not seem to get the sword free of its scabbard. A Dance with Dragons - Jon XIII

Death

"Make an end," and a hand grabbed her scalp just as she'd done with Jinglebell, and she thought, No, don't, don't cut my hair, Ned loves my hair. Then the steel was at her throat, and its bite was red and cold. A Storm of Swords - Catelyn VII

Pain washed over him. Stick them with the pointy end. When the third dagger took him between the shoulder blades, he gave a grunt and fell face-first into the snow. He never felt the fourth knife. Only the cold… A Dance with Dragons - Jon XIII

Resurrection

“Sometimes she felt as though her heart had turned to stone.” A Game of Thrones - Catelyn VI

“Instead, he blamed Jon Snow and wondered when Jon's heart had turned to stone.” A Feast for Crows - Samwell III

[visenyaism]

30 and 31 for the ask meme

30. A POV character you wish wasn’t

i do not think we needed both areo and arys and i dislike the arys chapters a lot more. also I think pate the pig boy is fine but ive kind of been obsessed with the secret affc first draft prologue that's from rosey's POV where she has a big ol crush on alleras that's cute.

31. Who would you elevate to a POV character?

I think it would've been soooo cool if the Mereen POV in Dany's absence was Irri or Jhiqui instead of Barristan. I think getting some Olenna interludes in Feast also would've killed.

[turtle-paced]

Did Rhaegar hate Elia?

The old knight hesitated. "Princess Elia was a good woman, Your Grace. She was kind and clever, with a gentle heart and a sweet wit. I know the prince was very fond of her." Daenerys IV, ADWD

That's about the most we've got on that - Rhaegar liked Elia but did not love her in a romantic sense. I don't see much reason to doubt Barristan's word on this one either, since a lot of Rhaegar's actions that impacted Elia negatively can be explained by carelessness, thoughtlessness, or differing priorities instead of active hatred.

[medievalandfantasymelee]

Hot Medieval and Fantasy Men Melee Masterpost

Qualifying Round

Day 1

Guy of Gisborne [Michael Wincott] VS. Guy of Gisburne [Robert Addie]

King Arthur [Graham Chapman] VS. Robin Hood [Richard Todd]

Antonius Block [Max von Sydow] VS. Arman [Matvey Lykov]

Edward III [Blake Ritson] VS. Ivanhoe [Anthony Andrews]

Edward the Black Prince [James Purefoy] VS. Henry Tudor [Luke Treadaway]

Pero Tovar [Pedro Pascal] VS. Sir Thomas Grey [Nigel Terry]

Richard III [Benedict Cumberbatch] VS. Edward IV [Max Irons]

Éomer [Karl Urban] VS. Gimli [John Rhys Davies]

Elrond Half-Elven [Hugo Weaving] VS. Elrond Half-Elven [Robert Aramayo]

Carlos I [Álvaro Cervantes] VS. Mr. Tumnus [James McAvoy]

Niccolò Machiavelli [Julian Bleach] VS. Niccolò Machiavelli [Thibaud Evrard]

The Sheriff of Nottingham [Alan Wheatley] VS. Finan [Mark Rowley]

Guy of Gisbourne [Basil Rathbone] VS. Nasir [Mark Ryan]

William Thatcher [Heath Ledger] VS. King Arthur [Charlie Hunnam]

Darkness [Tim Curry] VS. Zbyszko z Bogdanca [Mieczyslaw Kalenik]

King Vortigern [Jude Law] VS. Uther Pendragon [Anthony Stewart Head]

Corlys Velaryon [Steve Toussaint] VS. Simon Aumar [Justice Smith]

Asbjörn [Tom Hopper] VS. Connor MacLeod [Christopher Lambert]

Hamlet [Christopher Plummer] VS. Mat Cauthon [Donal Finn]

Ned Stark [Sean Bean] VS. Lurtz [Lawrence Makoare]

~~~

Day 2

Dong Yilong [Henry Lau] VS. Frodo Baggins [Elijah Wood]

King Ecbert [Linus Roache] VS. Bofur [James Nesbitt]

Beowulf [Gerard Butler] VS. Henry V [Kenneth Brannagh]

King Arthur [Sean Connery] VS. Robin Hood [Sean Connery]

Thorin Oakenshield [Richard Armitage] VS. Thierry of Janville [Jean-Claude Drouot]

Björn Ironside [Alexander Ludwig] VS. Hamlet [Laurence Olivier]

Martin [Rutger Hauer] VS. Criston Cole [Fabien Frankel]

Bard the Bowman [Luke Evans] VS. Perrin Aybara [Marcus Rutherford]

Leofric [Adrian Bower] VS. King Marke [Rufus Sewell]

Miles Hendon [Errol Flynn] VS. Amleth [Alexander Skarsgård]

Jorah Mormont [Iain Glen] VS. Little John [Nicol Williamson]

Odda the Elder [Simon Kunz] VS. Barristan Selmy [Ian McIlhinney]

King Arthur [Nigel Terry] VS. Nicodemus Ravens [Jakob Oftebro]

Brian de Bois-Guilbert [Sam Neill] VS. Brian de Bois-Guilbert [Ciaran Hinds]

Edward I [Stephen Dillane] VS. Robert the Bruce [Chris Pine]

Prince Charmont [Hugh Dancy] VS. Galessin [Alexis Hénon]

King Arthur [Richard Harris] VS. Ulrich von Jungingen [Stanislaw Jasiukiewicz]

Brother Cadfael [Derek Jacobi] VS. Thomas Beckett [Richard Burton]

Father Beocca [Ian Hart] VS. The Mayor of Hamelin [Claude Rains]

Bronn [Jerome Flynn] VS. Mikoláš Kozlík [František Velecký]

~~~

Day 3

Balian de Ibelin [Orlando Bloom] VS. Athelstan [George Blagden]

[goodqueenaly]

Do you think there was any truth to the daemon blackfyre and Daenerys were in love story? I honestly would think not except for the so spake Martin where grrm said they were in love

Do I think it's possible that Daemon and/or Daenerys may have been interested, and indeed perhaps mutually interested, in one another? Sure. We know virtually nothing about Daenerys with respect to either her personality or her appearance, but it certainly might have been the case that Daemon found her attractive - by her own merits, because he saw himself as having the right to a Targaryen royal bride (as perhaps Prince Aerion may have a generation later), a combination of these or some other reason, who knows. Likewise, just as I think Daenerys' nephews (who were of an age with Daenerys herself, of course) may have gotten along reasonably well with Daemon in the years prior to the First Blackfyre Rebellion, so I think it is at least possible Daenerys found herself romantically inclined toward Daemon, a handsome, charming, very martially talented knight of her own age and a familiar presence at the Targaryen court (especially, perhaps, compared to her brother's faraway, "foreign" brother-in-law, who may or may not have been close to her in age). So I would say it's certainly in the realm of possibility that either or both these two young people felt some level of romance for one another. (That obviously doesn't mean that their feelings never changed either: it's always worth keeping in mind that Daemon was a husband and the father of at least nine children when he died, while Daenerys was herself a wife and the mother of an unknown number of children by Prince Maron.)

Do I think it is just as possible, and not mutually exclusive with the above, that pro-Blackfyre propagandists as well as future storytellers and singers seized upon and made much of the Daemon-Daenerys relationship, including some degree of exaggeration and romanticization? Absolutely. Yandel himself notes when discussing the lack of evidentiary support for the proposed love affair, stating that "[i]n the years afterward [i.e. after the First Blackfyre Rebellion], Daenerys was never aught but a loyal wife to Prince Maron, and if she mourned Daemon Blackfyre, she left no record of it". We as readers are in turn are reliant on (as yet unknown) contemporary accounts and later interpretations of events to understand Daemon's and Daenerys' personal feelings, without the benefit of being able to separate the story from the (fictional) reality.

So for pro-Blackfyre propagandists, the idea of a doomed love affair between Daenerys and Daemon may have aided in their characterization of both Daeron II and Daemon: "Daeron Falseborn" was so wicked, the story might have gone, that he would personally deny the happiness of both his half-brother and his sister and so damnably xenophilic that he would prefer to sell his only sister to the Dornish; Daemon, for his part, might then have had no choice (again, according to this propaganda) but to stop the pro-Martell terror of King Daeron, for his own sake and that of the kingdom. (Yandel indeed even hints at the political advantage of such stories, noting that "some of Blackfyre's partisans later claimed" that Aegon IV had promised Daemon that he, Daemon, could take two wives.) Singers and storytellers, for their part, may have seen such a relationship, to whatever extent it actually existed, as too fertile ground to ignore for creative inspiration. How perfectly tragic it might have seemed for these creators, the daughter of a queen who was herself supposedly the subject of a doomed love affair (even though I doubt that was really the case), pining for the dashing royal rebel who longer for her in turn, the anguish of the hearts turning into a massive national civil war where they would be forced to opposite sides.

Do I think that, as Barristan Selmy remembers the story, "Daemon Blackfyre loved the first Daenerys, and rose in rebellion when denied her"? Probably not, at least to that level of simplicity. Whatever personal feelings Daemon may have had toward Daenerys, and/or she toward him, the First Blackfyre Rebellion was a conflict whose origins had been simmering for years prior to its official start in 196 AC. From the moment of the aggressively pro-war Daeron I's assassination and the accession of the aggressively pro-peace Baelor, the parameters of political divide among Westerosi power players had been set. Aegon IV and Daeron II had only hardened that factionalization of the kingdom: father and son had come to embody the division of attitudes toward Dorne, with Aegon IV extending his personal hatred and pettiness toward Daeron to politico-military actions against both Daeron and his Dornish allies, while Daeron's personal familial relationship with the ruling family of Dorne extended to greater political patronage toward the Martells and Dornish more generally, culminating in the nuptial peace with Prince Maron. These divides had existed and been developing before Daemon Blackfyre was born, and while I am certainly not absolving Daemon of any agency when it comes to the First Blackfyre Rebellion, I don't think the war can simply be boiled down to an unfulfilled romantic affair.

Do I think GRRM will simply leave the matter at that SSM from back in 2012, where he noted that "[d]espite Daemon and Daenerys being in love, her brother the king, Daeron the Good, was more concerned with matters of state than matters of love"? Probably not. GRRM is a storyteller himself, after all, and I would be very surprised if he didn't take the opportunity to explore the potential romance between Daenerys and Daemon. Fire and Blood Volume 2 will undoubtedly provide more details regarding this period, and while that story is obviously not a traditional novel/novella-style narrative that allows for a lot of character interiority, it's very possible we'll get more third-party observer accounts about the relationship between Daenerys and Daemon from this period.

[baelontargaryen]

Daenerys Targaryen Appreciation Month 2022

Day 26 → The Key Five: Arya Stark

“As you command.” The knight gave her a curious look. “You are your brother’s sister, in truth.”

“Viserys?” She did not understand.

“No,” he answered. “Rhaegar.” He galloped off.

—AGOT, Daenerys VI

“I think you are Rhaegar Targaryen’s sister,” Ser Jorah said with a rueful half smile.

— ASOS, Daenerys IV

“No,” said Alleras. “It was Prince Rhaegar’s young son Aegon whose head was dashed against the wall by the Lion of Lannister’s brave men. We speak of Rhaegar’s sister, born on Dragonstone before its fall. The one they called Daenerys.”

— AFFC, Prologue

“Wasn’t there some princess too?” asked a whore. She was the same one who’d said the meat was grey.

“Two,” said the old fellow. “One was Rhaegar’s daughter, t’other was his sister.”

[...] “Daenerys,” Davos said. “She was named for the Daenerys who wed the Prince of Dorne during the reign of Daeron the Second. I don’t know what became of her.”

— ADWD, Davos II

Ser Barristan went to one knee before her. “My queen, your realm has need of you. You are not wanted here, but in Westeros men will flock to your banners by the thousands, great lords and noble knights. ‘She is come,’ they will shout to one another, in glad voices. ‘Prince Rhaegar’s sister has come home at last.’ ”

— ADWD, Daenerys III

And then Prince Aegon spoke. “Then put your hopes on me,” he said. “Daenerys is Prince Rhaegar’s sister, but I am Rhaegar’s son. I am the only dragon that you need.”

...

“Some,” allowed Homeless Harry, “not many. Rhaegar’s sister has dragons. Rhaegar’s son does not. We do not have the strength to take the realm without Daenerys and her army. Her Unsullied.”

— ADWD, The Lost Lord

~

So it was. “I was seven when Elia died. They say I held her daughter Rhaenys once, when I was too young to remember. Aegon will be a stranger to me, whether true or false.” The princess paused. “We looked for Rhaegar’s sister, not his son.” Her father had confided in Ser Daemon when he chose him as his daughter's shield; with him at least she could speak freely. “I would sooner it were Quentyn who’d returned.”

— TWOW, Arianne I

—

“Was ever snow so black?” asked Lord Wyman. “Ramsay took Lord Hornwood’s lands by forcibly wedding his widow, then locked her in a tower and forgot her. It is said she ate her own fingers in her extremity … and the Lannister notion of king’s justice is to reward her killer with Ned Stark’s little girl.”

—ADWD, Davos IV

“And do you imagine the Hornwood men have forgotten the Bastard’s last marriage, and how his lady wife was left to starve, chewing her own fingers? What do you think passes through their heads when they hear the new bride weeping? Valiant Ned’s precious little girl.”

— ADWD, The Turncloak

But the wolves insisted; Roose Bolton could not be suffered to hold Winterfell, and the Ned’s girl must be rescued from the clutches of his bastard. So said Morgan Liddle, Brandon Norrey, Big Bucket Wull, the Flints, even the She-Bear.

...

“Ned’s girl,” said Morgan Liddle. He was the second of three sons, so the other wolves called him Middle Liddle, though not often in his hearing.

...

“Ned’s girl,” echoed Big Bucket Wull. “And we should have had her and the castle both if you prancing southron jackanapes didn’t piss your satin breeches at a little snow.”

...

“Winter is almost upon us, boy. And winter is death. I would sooner my men die fighting for the Ned’s little girl than alone and hungry in the snow, weeping tears that freeze upon their cheeks.”...

— ADWD, The King’s Prize

[istumpysk]

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

TWOW: Tyrion I (summary)

Don't worry, it will be over quickly.

Chapter opens with Tyrion and Brown Ben Plumm playing cyvasse and listening to the Yunkish trebuchets throwing corpses over the walls. They have a lively conversation, with Tyrion discussing how you can tell which trebuchet is launching based on its sound. Tyrion seems to be in much better spirits and back to his old, insufferably witty self.

x

For the second chapter we joined Tyrion playing cyvasse with Brown Ben, while they wait for 'Ser Grandfather's' army to sally forth and try to break the siege of Meereen.  These two share banter with other of Brown Ben's staff about what's the worst thing about waiting for the battle to start, punctuated by the sound of the trebuchets as they fling more plague corpses into Meereen.  

Oh boy, I can hardly wait to read this. I can already feel the laughter bubbling up inside of me.

+.+.+

Brown Ben muses that the two dragons are wild cards which could attack anyything on either side during the battle. 

🚩🚩🚩

Uh oh! UH OH.

That is the second time that prospect has been mentioned, essentially guaranteeing it will happen.

They will come, Ser Barristan might have said. The noise will bring them, the shouts and screams, the scent of blood. That will draw them to the battlefield, just as the roar from Daznak's Pit drew Drogon to the scarlet sands. But when they come, will they know one side from the other? Somehow he did not think so. - The Queen's Hands, ADWD

Can't wait to hear the excuses when the Unsullied and "freedmen" are caught in the crosshairs.

+.+.+

Tyrion (while slowly beating him at cyvasse) floats the idea of Brown Ben returning to Dany’s service and freeing Daario and the other hostages. Brown Ben seems very concerned with the money the Yunkish lords are wasting and doesn’t immediately reject the idea. 

x

They assume Dany will return on the third dragon and speculate about rescuing the three hostages - Daario, the eunuch and the horse boy - and delivering them to Meereen thereby changing sides a second time but claiming that they only pretended to change sides before so as to learn the Yunkish plans.  

Of course he's winning.

We learn two things:

Daario is still alive. No trebuchet.

Tyrion and Brown Ben are probably going to rescue him.

+.+.+

Tyrion thinks any skepticism about this will be outweighed by gratitude that he killed Dany's most dangerous enemy - Tywin. 

How hard will I laugh when Tyrion Lannister talks circles around this girl, and eventually convinces her to accept him as an ally? God, how embarrassing.

Anyway, she seems poised to misidentify the lion from Quaithe's warning, just as we all anticipated.

+.+.+

Someone spots sails on the horizon and they think the Volantenes have arrived, but Jorah Mormont spots the Krakens on the sails and says they are also flying dragon banners.

x

Just as Tyrion is about to win the cyvasse game Jorah bursts in with news of black sails in the bay (ironborn ships) flying dragon banners.

🚩🚩🚩

Everyone stop everything, it's DRAGON BANNERS.

Tyrion I dramatically ends with Victarion's fleet entering the battle, proudly displaying dragon banners atop their masts. It's like he already knows her love language.

Why might this be important?

We must go back!

Glowing like sunset, a red sword was raised in the hand of a blue-eyed king who cast no shadow. A cloth dragon swayed on poles amidst a cheering crowd. From a smoking tower, a great stone beast took wing, breathing shadow fire. . . . mother of dragons, slayer of lies . . - Daenerys IV, ACOK

This vision from the House of the Undying is almost always assigned to Aegon VI Targaryen.

Why?

"A dead man in the prow of a ship, a blue rose, a banquet of blood . . . what does any of it mean, Khaleesi? A mummer's dragon, you said. What is a mummer's dragon, pray?"

"A cloth dragon on poles," Dany explained. "Mummers use them in their follies, to give the heroes something to fight." - Daenerys V, ACOK

Because of Daenerys.

Despite mummers never making an appearance in that chapter or having any connection to the vision, Daenerys concludes that a cloth dragon swaying on poles is referencing stunts performed by mummers.

This becomes even more convoluted when books later Quaithe actually does warn Daenerys about a mummer's dragon.

"No. Hear me, Daenerys Targaryen. The glass candles are burning. Soon comes the pale mare, and after her the others. Kraken and dark flame, lion and griffin, the sun's son and the mummer's dragon. Trust none of them. Remember the Undying. Beware the perfumed seneschal." - Daenerys II, ADWD

As a result, many connect Quaithe's mummer's dragon to the cloth dragon swaying on poles from the House of the Undying. It's all Aegon, everything is Aegon.

I don't want to get too deep into this, because we've already covered Quaithe and the HotU extensively, but I will say I think there's a lot of problems here.

Reaching a conclusion that largely relies on Daenerys' interpretation of any vision is a bad idea.

I believe the "mother of dragons, slayer of lies" group of visions are interconnected through the concept of Azor Ahai being a lie, which has nothing to do with Aegon.

The author consistently portrays engaging in a violent pursuit of the Iron Throne as inherently immoral, and that will have to include Aegon (I'm sorry). It's hard to imagine a scenario where common folk rally to an invading army causing mass devastation, and starvation.

The vision perfectly complements Daenerys' cult of personality, and messianic complex.

Finally, and this is the most crucial thing to note, anyone following the story closely should recognize it's Daenerys who is fixated on the idea of people supporting her cause under the symbol of her dragon banners.

"They are your people, and they love you well," Magister Illyrio said amiably. "In holdfasts all across the realm, men lift secret toasts to your health while women sew dragon banners and hide them against the day of your return from across the water." - Daenerys I, AGOT

x

Dany rode close beside him. "Still," she said, "the common people are waiting for him. Magister Illyrio says they are sewing dragon banners and praying for Viserys to return from across the narrow sea to free them." - Daenerys III, AGOT

x

"When the day comes that you raise your banners, half of Westeros will be with you," Whitebeard promised. "Your brother Rhaegar is still remembered, with great love." - Daenerys II, ASOS

x

"Tell me, then—when he touched a man on the shoulder with his sword, what did he say? 'Go forth and kill the weak'? Or 'Go forth and defend them'? At the Trident, those brave men Viserys spoke of who died beneath our dragon banners—did they give their lives because they believed in Rhaegar's cause, or because they had been bought and paid for?" Dany turned to Mormont, crossed her arms, and waited for an answer. - Daenerys II, ASOS

x

I ought to have a banner sewn, she thought as she led her tattered band up along Astapor's meandering river. She closed her eyes to imagine how it would look: all flowing black silk, and on it the red three-headed dragon of Targaryen, breathing golden flames. A banner such as Rhaegar might have borne. - Daenerys III, ASOS

You are more than welcome to believe that vision is Aegon, there's not a lot of evidence either way, but I'm going to stick with the girl who spends five books fantasizing about dragon banners and the people's adoration.

In conclusion, I don't know if Vic's dragon banners are the cloth dragon banners, but I haven't come across a more convincing alternative.

Final thoughts:

48 down, 1 to go. PRAISE BE.

Next chapter: Barristan II (summary)

-> return to menu <-

[asoiafreadthru]

A Game of Thrones, Eddard IV

“We are but five,” he pointed out.

“Lord Stannis took himself to Dragonstone not long after the king went north,” Varys said.

“And our gallant Ser Barristan no doubt rides beside the king as he makes his way through the city, as befits the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard.”

[mneiai]

Jon Snow's Living Situation in ASOIAF

A lot of people take for granted that it was "unusual" for Jon Snow to be raised at Winterfell, so I tried to gather information on as many natural born children mentioned in ASOIAF and related materials to see if that was true.

And it seems not to be, even in the South (outside of Dorne, even). The children born out of wedlock to highborn parents seem to be kept with them or nearby.

This is admittedly a small sample size (around 80 characters, and I didn't go too deep into it so I'm missing at least some), but it's not like this is real history, and the fact that Jon's situation is not unusual seeming from what we're shown in the books just adds to the idea that people's impressions of what is normal are not the truth of what is normal.

Northern Bastards that lived/probably lived with their families (other than Jon himself):

Brandon Snow (Torrhen Stark’s brother, most likely lived at Winterfell)

Sara Snow (Rickon Stark’s daughter during the Dance, if she existed definitely lived at Winterfell)

Dacey, Alysane, Lyra, Jorelle, and Lyanna Mormont (Maege Mormont’s daughters, father(s) unknown and most likely not married to Maege)

Denys Snow (Bastard of Barrowtown, bastard of House Dustin)

Lonnel Snow (Son of Brandon Stark from Daeron II’s reign, possibly the origin of House Cassel)

Timothy Snow (the Bastard of Flint’s Finger, presumably lived with his Flint relatives)

Northern Bastards who were acknowledged and fostered elsewhere in the North:

Larence Snow (Halys Hornwood’s son, fostered with the Glovers)

Other Bastards who seem to have lived with/near their families:

Addison Hill (Bastard of Cornfield during the Conquest)

Alys River (House Strong, a wet nurse at Harrenhal)

Aurane Waters (Bastard of Driftmark, Lord Monford Velaryon’s brother)

Bastard of Blackhaven (House Dondarrion during the conquest)

Bastard of Harrenhal (House Lothston during Daeron II’s reign)

Bryden Rivers (Bloodraven), Gwenys Rivers, Mya Rivers

Cedrik Storm (Bastard of Bronzegate, House Buckler bastard, fought Barristan Selmy)

Daemon Sand (Bastard of Godsgrace, son of Ryon Allyrion)

Daemon Waters (aka Daemon Blackfyre, son of Princess Daena and Aegon IV)

Falia Flowers (daughter of Humfrey Hewitt, though made a servant)

Joy Hill (Gerion Lannister’s daughter)

Lynora Hill (daughter of Ser Jason Lannister, works at Casterly Rock)

Obara Sand, Nymeria Sand, Tyene Sand, Sarella Sand, Elia Sand, Obella Sand, Dorea Sand, and Loreza Sand (the Sand Snakes)

Orys Baratheon (rumored bastard of Aerion Targaryen)

Red Robb Rivers (the Bowman of Raventree, bastard of House Blackwood)

Rolland Storm (Bastard of Nightsong, House Caron)

Ronald Storm (son of Ser Ronnet Connington)

Ronard Storm (House Durrandon, usurped his brother King Morden II)

Tom Flowers (Bastard of Bitterbridge, from House Caswell during the Dance)

Tyler Hill (Bastard of Lannisport, son of Lord Lyman during Maegor’s reign)

Tyrion Tanner (Lollys Stokeworth’s son)

Walda Rivers (great-granddaughter of Walder Frey)

Walder Rivers (Walder Frey’s oldest bastard son)

Walys (Maester at Winterfell under Rickard Stark, while becoming a Maester might normally be seen as sending the child away, he was the son of a Hightower and an Archmaester)

Wex Pyke (son of Sargon Botley)

(I don’t think it’s a stretch to assume if someone is called “Bastard of [seat of their family]” that they lived with their family, as Jon Snow is the “Bastard of Winterfell”)

Other Bastards who possibly lived with their families (at least for a time)

Blackshield (Bastard of Uplands, possibly of House Mullendore)

Ellaria Sand (daughter of Harmen Uller)

Garrett and Garse Flowers (Mace Tyrell’s first cousins, presumably lived with their father)

Harry Rivers (Bastard of Bracken, son of Lord Jonos Bracken)

Shiera Seastar (daughter of Aegon IV, not really confirmed where she lived her early years I don't think, though most likely in King’s Landing)

Bastards definitely not raised at home:

Aegor Rivers (Bittersteel, would have been raised in King’s Landing but Daeron and Aemon forced Aegon to send him away)

Cotter Pyke (Night’s Watch member, most likely did not live with his highborn relatives)

Edric Storm (Robert Baratheon’s son, technically was raised at his family’s seat in Storm’s End, but not at the Red Keep)

Gendry Waters (Robert Baratheon’s son)

Mya Stone (Robert Baratheon’s daughter)

All the rest of Robert Baratheon's kids

Notable bastards whose situations are not at all comparable to Jon’s:

Ramsey Snow (Roose Bolton’s son, a product of a First Night rape)

Benedict I Justman (a Blackwood/Bracken mix, so basically an abomination in the eyes of the gods lol)

Addam and Alyn Velaryon (Lord Corlys Velaryon’s probable sons, most likely purposefully hidden)

Franklyn Flowers (mother was a small folk raped by Fossoways of Cider Hall)

Glendon Flowers (could not prove parentage, claimed to be Quentyn Ball’s son with a camp follower)

Jayne and Jon Waters (Alyn Velyaron and Elaena Targaryen’s children, Alyn died when they were young but had planned to marry Elaena)

Joffrey, Tommen, and Myrcella (obviously)

All of Lyonel Hightower and Samantha Tarly’s children (weren’t allowed to marry, but had children anyway)

Named bastards we don’t have enough information on:

Addam Rivers (briefly a river king)

Humfrey Waters (Commander of the City Watch)

Jafer Flowers (Night’s Watch member)

Mervyn Flowers (King Aegon III KG)

Robert Flowers (former LC of the KG)

Robin Hill (former LC of NW)

Ser Samuel Stone (Runestone master-at-arms)

Tristan Rivers (Golden Company)

[warsofasoiaf]

“All knights must bleed, Jaime. Blood is the seal of our devotion.”“Arthur: And now it begins.”“Our knees do not bend easily.”“Arthur: Then you shall have it, ser.”Joncon said “It was a camp that even Arthur Dayne might have approved of —compact, orderly, defensible”He also got good rights and sorted out the people who hid the kingswood brotherhood. But in these quotes, doesn’t Arthur come off quite like stannis? Stubborn, rigid, single-mindedly devoted? Not the typical chivalrous act or virtue

A compact, orderly, and defensible camp is actually just a solid idea all around - one of Rome's claims to fame was that their military officers excelled at campcraft. You want your camp to be efficiently run so that everyone knows where gear can have repairs done, where the daily muster points are, where the pickets are sent and who mans them. You also want to ensure that it's pitched in a defensible location so that you can't be attacked when your camp is sleeping in a night attack. So Arthur Dayne isn't being a stubborn and single-minded individual, that's just sensible military craft.

"Our knees do not bend easily," does have this sense though. Remember, the rebellion started because Aerys decided to just up and murder a bunch of nobles, and Arthur Dayne stands in defense of that. Arthur also defends Lyanna's about-to-be-born baby, but didn't ensure that she had access to good medical care, so he's standing in support of actions that lead to her early grave.

That's the Kingsguard though. Aerys's Kingsguard used their oaths of obedience to force the Kingsguard to turn a blind eye to Aerys committing sexual violence on his wife. Aegon IV's Kingsguard had men who swore oaths to "protect all women" who would abduct them for Aegon IV's predatory appetites. Criston Cole's fixation on sexual purity led him to commit murder and helped lead a coup. Barristan was as quiet as a country mouse when Rickard and Brandon were murdered. On the surface, the Kingsguard are paragons of knightly virtue, but in fact, they enable some of the system's worst abuses.

Thanks for the question, Anon.

SomethingLikeALawyer, Hand of the King

[minsyal]

Long May He Reign, Pt. IV

Tywin Lannister x Targaryen!Reader

Summary: The Hand of the King spends years vying for the princess's affections. Only fate would have it that the two cannot be. As Aerys Targaryen II slowly descends into madness, can their love survive his instability and the war to come?

Warnings: General Game of Thrones violence later on, death and stuff, shitty characterizations, eh age differences, Ser Barristan being a lovely darling ✨

Everyone dined separately that night following the tournament. Aerys had sequestered himself to his provided chambers and ordered Ser Lewyn and Ser Grandison to keep guard through the darkness into the safety of the daylight. He feared for his life in such a densely Lannister place, but he came out of principle. The crown has no fears, he would tell himself repeatedly in his mind as he jittered at the slightest of foreign sounds. Ser Barristan and Ser Arthur had drank with Rhaegar, with none of the men falling to the full temptation of their fiery liquids. Laughter rang into the evening air as the three found amusement in the results of the joust. But once the Rock quieted and a sleepy hush fell over the people, only the euphonious notes of a despondent song lingered in the thin air.

The musical tune echoed through the emptied hallways, jumping off of the cold stone of the passages and climbing down from the many balconies that extended throughout the Rock. Rhaegar’s long fingers plucked at the strings of his harp and his lips buzzed with the constant hum of his sorrowful ballad. A lean leg hung from an open windowsill, stretching downward toward the waters that waved their white-capped hands skyward. His head hung down, closing off the space between his chin and chest. If his fingers had not been moving, one would have assumed him to have fallen asleep.

“Farewell, my brother.” The princess stepped from her position in the hallway. After she and Ser Barristan navigated the winding corridors that led to doors in all directions, she bid him goodnight at her chambers and promised to lock the doors from the inside. Her mind could not sleep, even as her body beckoned her to the bed. It raged with vigor from the eventful days and coming nights as the court eventually set off for King’s Landing. She wondered what her father would say about her leaving. She thought of Viserys, the poor babe, who could not even attend a tourney thrown in his honor. But she mostly thought of Tywin.

She eventually found herself pacing the corridors until her weary feet brought her to Rhaegar’s side. “A ballad about the Cargyll brothers' plight in the Dance of the Dragons.” Adjusting the draping of her dress, she joined him on his perch and listened as the crashing waves of the Sunset Sea harmonized with the hypnotic flow of his eloquent playing. “A sad choice of song for such a joyous event. Is this your projection of your loss to Ser Arthur?”

Ignoring his sister’s coltish jab, he plucked a few more notes. The cobalt effervescence of the glowing moon cast shadows across her softened features. Despite being out of line in leaving King’s Landing and having the anticipation of her father’s wrath looming overhead, she felt an acute calmness that stretched further than any consequence could. Footsteps bounced from the walls, shaking Rhaegar from his thoughts as the glint of a necklace he had not seen before flashed under the sapphire irradiation.

“A new necklace? It is not difficult to imagine where that has been sourced, sister dearest.” He kicked his leg out, blithely jabbing it against her hip. The footsteps did not amount to anything, as whoever they belonged to never exited onto the outlook. Still, Rhaegar lowered his voice.

“It would be an insult to not accept a gift when you are a guest in someone’s home.”

He snorted, “it is not often that a gift is made to conceal whom it stemmed from.”

“It was left in my room. For all I am aware it could be from another lord.”

“Another lord?” Rhaegar mused, closing his eyes in a playful flutter as he rested the crown of his head against the pillar he sat against. “Lord Addam Marbrand, perhaps?” He leveled his head to cast his sister a knowing look. “I heard you made acquaintance with him before bursting into my tent… I also heard you had been escorted away from Addam on Tywin’s arm.”

“Word travels at an alarming pace.”

“It does.” Rhaegar hummed in agreement as he became enamored with the gold plating of his harp with intricately spun designs pressed into its sides. “Father harbors a growing disdain for his Hand.” He peered over his shoulder and around hers, ensuring they were alone. “He could not keep his focus off of you during the joust.” There was a strange severity in his tone that she had not heard often from her genial brother. “Lord Tywin brings you happiness like no other, I understand that… He commands a crowd and holds great power.” Leaning forward, he muted his volume so that she had to strain to hear him. “But to a king, he is powerless.”

His insinuation was clear as the waters that flowed from the gardens in Dorne. Whatever she and Tywin had built could easily be disassembled brick by brick whether it be by Aerys himself or his growing court of people ready to please. They were willing to do anything to climb their way to the king’s side. Yet, she debated whether it was a place people truly wanted to reside.

“All I ask is that you remain ever cautious.”

She wet her lips, unable to comprehend the twisted web of dangers she had been playing in for the past three years. Then, reassuringly, she took Rhaegar’s hand in hers and cradled it in her other. “Worry is not a suiting expression on you, brother.” Her lighthearted ability to brighten his mood was a gift. “I assure you that I will approach the future with vigilance.”

The return to King’s Landing was done without Tywin as he and Cersei followed a few days behind. Aerys had instructed Ser Barristan to keep a close watch on the princess so as to not have her wander off again. Formally henceforth, he was assigned as her personal guard. No true punishment had been enacted from her actions and she was more than happy to have the company.

Strolling down the Blackwater, she relaxed in the midday sun. It shone down brightly from the cloudless sky, warming her chilled skin with its golden rays. The entourage had stopped for lunch at the behest of the king who, despite his unease with his distance from the Red Keep, much preferred dining when it was not an in-motion affair. This allowed the princess to venture from the rear room of the carriage house to the freedom of the outdoors.

“Do you foresee your new assignment being satisfactory?” She chided to Ser Barristan who walked in step with her nearest to the water’s edge. “Royal nursemaid to the princess who by happenstance does not appear to be an infant… at least as far as I am aware.”

He chuckled. “It is my duty to protect the royal family, princess. By definition, that would include all the royals.” Casting a glance outward to the flowing water, he watched as a lone log floated fastly downward, carrying on the harsh current. “I have always enjoyed my time in your company. I do not believe that will change in the coming days, weeks, months, even years.”

“You think that I will be watched this closely for years?”

“It could be a possibility.”

“By the gods, you will be guarding me even once father sends me away.” She brushed her fingers against the necklace draped on her breastbone. “Your life will soon be overflowing with boredom. You will be begging him to station you elsewhere.” Everything she said was in jest, but the undertones to her overcast words was clear to the man who had watched her grow.

“You underestimate yourself, princess. Kingsguard or not, I would follow you to the end of the earth.”

She considered his words for a moment, allowing the sounds of nature to overtake their conversation. Birds wings flapped together, crafting a harmonious buzz of feathers and wind as they spiraled through the open sea of blue that hung overhead. The water splashed against the eroding river banks, ripping away at the tearing and fraying grass that clung to the dry dirt. Chatter erupted from the small camp of knights and Kingsguard who hung around the wheelhouse, waiting for the king to give his approval on the move forward.

“I will keep you honest to your word then, Ser Barristan.”

“I would not expect anything less.”

Upon their official return to the Red Keep and Kings Landing, the king Aerys II confined himself to the spaces of his chambers. Her mother, Rhaella, had been quartered into the Holdfast with no provisions to leave and very few to keep her company. At times, she would seek her mother’s audiences but would often be met with the septa’s that trailed behind her much like Ser Barristan had taken to following the princess. Though, even before, she rarely saw her mother.

The birth of Viserys caused Aerys II to plummet in his state of mind. His nails grew longer in line with his unwashed and unkempt hair. Fear began to strike his heart as his beliefs of conspiratory behavior struck his veins and seized his waking moments. When he did sit the throne, he returned to the Holdfast with cuts littering his fingers and clothes. All needed to be treated by Pycelle, who would also attempt to calm him with medicinal treatments but nothing would put a halt on his increasing paranoia.

When Tywin returned to Kings Landing he brought with him his daughter to continue living at court as she daydreamed of the life she intended for her and the crowned prince. News of the young Melara Heatherspoon’s death swam through the halls of the Red Keep for a short time before it disappeared all together and she became nothing more than a faded memory. It was a tragic death, a mere accident, that started in the woods and ended at the base of a dried well.

The princess took to her lifestyle prior to her short-lived rebellion. Attending frequent lessons with her septa, strolling silently through the gardens, and slowly rebranding herself as the royal’s diligent princess was part of her routine. The king did not name her a husband, nor did he seek for one.

She met infrequently with Tywin, mostly enjoying his company on days when the sun was the brightest and the inhabitants of the Red Keep flocked to the outdoors to enjoy the sunlight in the midst of a chilling winter. It was often said that she was most striking in the frozen weather. Her gowns became more ornate and crafted of richer silks, her skin flushed with a soft rose that spread from her ears to her nose, and the cloaks that covered her shoulders in the outdoors were delightfully ethereal in the way they glittered against the snow.

The colors she opted for in the winter were of a deep red or rich green. Contrasting against her silken skin, the luxuriant fabrics made her appear like a shining star in the glittering snowfall. She radiated a phantom aura of her ghostly complexion and everywhere she stepped seemed to sing.

There was something about the cold of winter that seemed to wake the fire that burnt within.

“Lord Tywin.” Ser Barristan, who did not appear to mind the cold that blew through the skyward towers of the Red Keep, welcomed the figure to their company. Though guarded and ever scrutinizing of their relations, he recognized that the princess required some light in her often-dim life. With a respectful nod, he side-stepped away from the lord and retreated to a spot a comfortable distance away.

Tywin assumed the emptied spot next to the princess. She could not feel the warmth that lingered on the surface of his clothing, the light brushing of his arm against her cloaked shoulder was enough. “I often wonder how the Northerner’s withstand the winter when we struggle here in the south.” He could see the plushness of her lips and redness of her nose past the hood of insulated furs draped softly over her immaculate hair.

From their comfortable viewpoint, they could look down into the streets of King’s Landing. Plumes of white smoke rose from each active chimney, emanating life in such a desolate landscape. The people moved like ants in the crowded streets, barely visible among the stone walls of their homes and shops. The city was bursting at the seams with people clamoring from outside the walls to the interior for the safety of the crown. Peasants begged on the streets while others died in the alleys. The bodies were carted outside the walls to be discarded in pits.

“How do they ensure little loss of life in times such as these?” She pondered aloud as Tywin shifted from one foot to the other.

He looked commanding in his choice of fabrics. Summer tunics made of brocade and silk were quickly exchanged for wool and leather. His shoulders appeared broader and strengthened by the cloak of black wool and tanned fur that hung from golden clips securing the fabric to his body. She liked the way he looked in the winter.

“The Northerners understand winter better than any of us ever will.” Tywin turned his attention to the streets. “That is not to say that they do not suffer casualties in the same capacity.”

“We have an abundance of barley and wheat in storage. Can we not utilize it to keep the people fed?”

“You have a good heart but lack the mind for politics, princess.”

“You have a mind for politics,” she turned her head to face him, “but lack a good heart, Lord Tywin.” Any other would never dare speak to him in such a manner, but the princess found herself among the very few exceptions. Not only was she heavily protected as the daughter of the king but she also held a part of his heart that had only been open to one other in his lifetime. “Each child who perishes in the winter storm is not given the opportunity to prosper in the spring rains. I wish to see to it that they may open their eyes to the summer sun and bloom as the gardens here do.”

“How is it that you intend on seeing to this?”

She scrunched her nose and narrowed her eyes in thought. Thus far, she held no true power in Westeros. She acted as a symbol of regality among the other royals who roamed the halls. Rhaegar had made contributions to the prosperity of their father’s reign, but she had not been given the chance. “I am not sure.”

“Perhaps should you find yourself in the good graces of the Hand, he would assist in fulfilling your wishes.”

A smile was brought to her lips as her infectious grin somehow spread to the sullen man. Ser Barristan had told the princess that he had never seen Tywin in such a light before he was assigned as her personal guard. The lady Joanna was the only one to pull the old lion out of his stone-faced and serious mood until the princess started harboring feelings for him.

“What must I do to find myself in such a situation?”

Tywin’s hand was warm against her skin as he reached out and cradled the necklace between his fingertips. The back of his palm rested against her collarbones. He had distinctly removed the moleskin glove that covered his fingers before, holding it in his other hand. A fingernail popped open the clasp that held the large ruby to the center of her necklace. “Never remove this.”

It was the herringbone-linked necklace, crafted with gold from the Lannister mines, that had been left in her chambers during the tourney at Casterly Rock. Rich and heavy, it was connected with large ruby embellishments that had been cut into trillion shapes for the outer links and three fine navette jewels that were framed in gold at the center. To anyone else, it appeared as fine jewelry with the red signifying the Targaryen dragon. But to them, it was a wordless promise and an act of a Lannister marking his claim.

“I do not feel it is often that men request a lady to keep her clothing on, my lord.” The princess joked, burning a beet red as his fingers grazed over base of her neck.

An amused chortle passed by the scruff of his upper lip. Yet, no smile or even small tug of the corners of his mouth followed. He was solemn and serious, holding true to the face he showed the rest of the world. The smile that had lit his face moments prior was now nothing as the hardened lines of his softened skin became clear.

He had always been a thoughtful man. Not in nature, as the man did not do favors or deeds for glory, but in mind. Like his son, his inner monologue never ceased. Every move he made was calculated and propelled him further toward some unknown goal that tingled in the back of his head.

Because in the end, no matter what he must do, Tywin would get what he wanted.

~~~*~~~

“Do not be nervous, princess.” Ser Barristan stood at the castle’s gates with a small armada of escorts and servants carrying overflowing carts of supplies. A deep mahogany palanquin waited in the courtyard with four men ready to depart.

“I am not nervous.” The young woman feigned, tugging at the skirts of her dress as she pushed fallen hair from her face. “I just am not accustomed to public outings.”

“Your only official trip was on the wind.” He added, providing a hand for her to grasp as she stepped inside. “You have the finest knights in all of Westeros at your aid. When the people understand why you are walking amongst them, they will rejoice in your presence.”

“I do hope you are right.”

The cart jostled and shook as the men carried it dutifully down the steps from the high hill to the streets of King’s Landing. She watched as the people looked on with curiosity, wondering why someone was venturing onto their streets.

Lord Tywin Lannister had discreetly set aside the minuscule funding required to purchase a ten room building located on the edge of Flea Bottom nearest to Rhaenys’s Hill on the northeastern portion of town. The building was run down and leaning slightly to one side. Old tattered curtains hung from the broken windows and moss covered the outermost stone that cradled the cracked street.

When she had stepped out from the palanquin, the sunlight burst through the skyline that stretched overhead. She could hear the inquisitive murmur of whispers as a group of young men watched her enter the building. The stone floors were packed full with cement made of mud and clay, large smooth rocks were crammed together within to form an uneven surface.

“Princess.” A familiar voice called out from the doorway. Ser Alliser Thorne was a man loyal to the Targaryen household. He was older than the princess, nearly a decade to be exact. With striking and sharp features, the man presented himself as a hardened soldier with great respect for those in authority. “The crone.”

Stepping aside, he presented her with a frail old woman of an age she could not imagine. She walked like she was in her early eighties but appeared as if she was alive during the Dance. The skin of her face sagged into her neck and her nose was pimpled with sunspots.

“That is no way to address a woman, Ser.” The princess scolded lightly as the woman swatted her wrinkled hand in the air to dispel the tension in the young girl’s shoulders.

“Nonsense!” Her voice was ragged and raspy but held a certain tune that filled her with loving joy. “No woman is insulted by her own name.” She shortly nodded her head to the princess in lieu of a courtesy. “Apologies, my dear. The years have not been kind. My knees do not bend as they once did. The young boy was simply calling me what I am. The Old Crone. You should do well to follow suit.”

The princess looked to Ser Barristan for any form of assistance only to find his shoulders shrugged.

“Very well then.” She watched as men and woman piled through the doors and began fortifying the various areas of the house that needed improvement. “I am very glad you have accepted the responsibility of running this home for me, my lady. I believe it will prosper under your eye.”

“Under my eye?” The woman let out a garbled laugh that sounded disgusting to most but warmed the princess’s heart. “Can’t see much out of this one,” her overgrown nail pointed to her left eye, “the other will have to do what it can. Been searching for proper housing for years, my dear. Any roof is better than the god’s one… this one won’t rain on this old head.”

Stifling a laugh, the princess nodded. “We should hope so at the very least. I want this to be more than a shelter.” A man passed by, loading beams inside that would soon hold the floors up higher. “I want this to be a home for you and anyone else should they need it.”

“A home would be nice.” The Crone mused, hiking her skirts to her lap as she sat ungracefully upon one of the many stools that littered the boundaries of the room. “Well then, let us get to work.”

The princess hesitated as she cast a security glance to Ser Barristan. As she turned her head back to the Crone, a pile of cotton was thrust into her arms along with a needle and thread. “A home isn’t much of a home without blankets for the beds, deary. You know how to sew, right? You haven’t been skipping your lessons, have you?”

Ser Barristan smiled as the princess frantically ruched the fabric in her arms and followed the Crone as she made for a back room. “Never, my lady.”

“You!” The Crone hollered back at Ser Alliser who stood awkwardly in the room nearest to Ser Barristan. “Start a fire in the hearth, would you?”

The fluttering of her skirts was the last thing the older knight saw before he too joined them in the old rickety room. Her footsteps were followed by the scratchy voice of the Crone as she dismissed the proper title once more.

The winter was in its midst as Lord Steffon Baratheon was sent across the Narrow Sea to Essos with the intention of finding the crowned prince Rhaegar a wife of Valyrian blood. The princess had found herself busied with the nonsense work of finding and maintaining sufficient funding for the shelter house while also looking to local craftsmen for apprenticeships to aid the residents in starting new lives.

“Lord Steffon searches day and night to find a bride befitting a crowned prince.”

“Yes, but that was not my question, sister dearest.” Rhaegar pat his hand on hers as they walked through the gardens together with her arm laced through his. “Who do you think they’ll match me with?”

Rhaegar and his sister walked amongst the gardens, framed beautifully by the soft blooming winter flowers. Talk of finding him a wife was in circulation. Many tried to get on the king’s good side by finding Aerys as much information as they could that would cast someone else in a bad light. The majority of the talk seemed to revolve around the Hand of the King.

“Someone who is not of your own blood.”

Brushing a stray hair from his face, he noticed the group of women who whispered amongst themselves and turned quickly when they made eye contact. “He should have matched us.”

Her feet stopped moving as the back of her skirt hit her legs. “You’re mad, brother.”

“No.” Swatting away her disapproval, he gathered her hands in his and pulled her forward to one of the overlook balconies. Snow frosted ivy grew up the sides of the two large white pillars that held up dark wooden beams.. “You’re mad that you did not think of it before I.” He sat himself down on a stone bench and guided her down by his side. “We wed, fulfill our duties, but still seek our own happiness. You found yours with,” his voice lowered, “our Lord Hand. I should be allowed to find mine also.”

“I don’t dispute that you deserve happiness, but our lineage does not bode well for the future of our house. One can only marry brother and sister for so long before madness ensues. Perhaps, if you were so in love with me you should have bid this idea to father many years ago.”

“I thought it was I who was deemed the more interesting of the king’s children.” Rhaegar found great amusement in the princess’s relaxed state as their father became absent in their lives. “You are developing too much personality, sister. I would bet a hundred golden dragons that it is solely derived from your extended company of Ser Barristan.” He joked, poking fun of the Kingsguard who only tilted his head backward for a fleeting second to display the painted smile on his lips.

Cold winds blew in off Blackwater Bay, carrying their silver hair in its gentle breeze like a loose piece of silk hanging on a clothes line. The smell of the capitol was more pleasant in the chilled months. The summer sun could not bake the filth and grime to the streets. Smells that did rise on the air were carried for many more leagues than before. From the highest tower in Maegor’s Holdfast, even the worst of noses could smell the steaming freshly baked goods on the street of flour.

“I think you would have made a fitting bride.” Rhaegar commented as he released the strained tenseness that riddled his pointed shoulders.

“You do not believe the words you speak.” The princess placed her hands on the stone wall that separated the siblings from the sea. Her fingers chilled atop its frozen surface, but she found comfort in its uncertain ease. “You fear that Lord Steffon will return with a woman you will not love.” His eyes were suddenly empty and hollow. Playful jolts of electric energy died down as a palpable hesitancy clawed its way down his dried throat.

After a passing moment filled with the static of silence, Rhaegar let out a pume of hot breath into the open air. “How can one love another when they are not certain in the prospected changing of the tides?”

“Certainty is not afforded to those who carry the name Targaryen… Lord Steffon is a reasonable man. He will not bring back anyone who is not fit to hold the title of ‘queen.’”

“With personality came wisdom.” He snickered, turning fastly as his uncertainty faded into nothingness. “You should be sent away to the Citadel to assemble your chain.”

Shaking her head, she pushed her hand against his arm and rolled her eyes. “Ser Barristan would grow bored surrounded by such a group. Perhaps I should instead be sent North. I can shed the wisdom and replace it with bravery.”

“The Targaryen princess banished to The Wall.” Rhaegar chided. “You can fight with the brothers in black against The Others.”

“The prince is to come of your lineage, not mine.”

“Oddities of the world are not set in stone. The prince could be a princess.”

“I was right.” The princess smiled with her teeth and tucked her chin to her chest as she looked down at her hands. “You are truly mad.”

Rhaegar’s hand shook her shoulder as he clasped it firmly over her cloak. “Madness is a disease we are rather prone to, sister. At the very least my form will not turn the realm to ash and dust.”

Tag List:

@issybee0611 @yellowbadgermole @ladysindar @usernameosv @thanyatargaryen @kishie8

[jonquilspool]

canonically GOOD AT BEING A KNIGHT kingsguard (facts only. we ignore jaime’s wet dreams for this ranking. also ignoring tourneys no tourney knights here)

ser joffrey doggett (served 🤢jaehaerys i🤮)—literally commanded his own army and killed multiple knights and lords in true open battle. opposed maegor

ser duncan the tall (served aegon v)—obviously. you know why

ser barristan selmy (served jaehaerys ii aerys ii and robert)—killed maelys blackfyre in single combat and showed out during the war of the ninepenny kings. c’mon now

ser gwayne corbray (served daeron ii)—this one is biased. what abt it. he dueled daemon blackfyre for literal hours and didn’t die he had to be at least good

ser arthur dayne (served aerys ii)—NOWWW we get into the guys everyone talks abt. killing the smiling knight and routing the kingswood brotherhood gets him here sure why not.

ser criston cole (served viserys i and aegon ii)—killed a lot of old ppl. did ok in battle before getting arrowed. lame death and the riverlands runaround bump him down to here. also aegon ii got FUCKED UP on his watch

ser aemon dragonknight (served aegon iii, daeron i, baelor, viserys ii, aegon iv)—did like nothing while they were in dorne, daeron i died in front of him and he was rescued by BAELOR. then did tourney knight things while kings dropped around him until he died.

ser jaime (served aerys ii joffrey and tommen)—ok i know germ SAYS canonically jaime is the best but he really. hasn’t done all that much. fought the kingswood brotherhood, hung out in king’s landing during the rebellion until he killed aerys ii, got captured by a 14 year old and was carted around the riverlands until a lady freed him and then he lost his hand… just like. not a lot going on there